511 Mill StreetA Story by MaddieI'm working on a novel about my experiences in treatment centers for adolescents struggling with depression, addiction, and other mental health issues. It's been 4 yrs since my last hospitalization!
Hello. This is the prologue to the novel I'm writing. During my high school career, I spent some time in treatment centers for kids struggling with mental health issues. It has been 4 years since I was last released out of the hospital (a huge milestone) and I feel like it's time to share some of my experiences. I met so many crazy (quite literally) and unique people with interesting stories during my multiple stays in treatment. Let me know what you think. I'm currently 5 chapters into the novel, but here's a snippet of the prologue.
tw: depression, hospitalization, drugs, murder, suicide mention
-------------------------------------------------------------------- The first night in
the hospital is always the worst. You’re lying in an uncomfortable bed that
makes noise with every toss and turn, with your head on a pillow that smells
like plastic, and your legs beneath a scratchy blanket. You stare up at the
ceiling, admiring the speckled tiles, both wanting to fall asleep but too
scared to close your eyes for long. These are the hours that it hits you, it
really hits you--you’re in a mental hospital. But then you ask yourself: do you
really belong here? Maybe they’ll let you out in the morning when they realize
you’re not as severe as the other kids. But, severe in what sense? Are you really less severely
insane, depressed, manic, angry, or crazy as the other kids? What are they
really quantifying here? Then you think
back to the questioning that led you to the hospital. The series of nurses in the
Emergency Room who asked you the three classic questions: do you self-harm, do
you have a suicide plan, have you attempted before? You realize that the nurses
wouldn’t ask these questions to someone who didn’t need to answer them. The
fact that you landed in the Emergency Room at all should say something; that
something is not right with you. You are crazy. You
are here for a reason. This wasn’t a silly mistake that the doctors made.
Doctors don’t recommend that just anyone be admitted to a mental hospital. They
locked you up because you deserve to be locked up in here. This is real, you’re
in a mental hospital because someone deemed you f*****g crazy. How long do
people usually stay here anyway? You look over at
your roommate, soundly asleep, and wonder why she’s here. You haven’t talked to
her enough to know exactly what her story is. She even seems, well, normal in
some sense. Did she kill someone? Was she found in a ditch drugged up on ecstasy
with her face planted in a puddle of mud? You hear the 4am
guard make his rounds through the long, dark hallway that is part of your home
now. He shines his light into your room to, allegedly, make sure you and your
roommate are both still there. He sees that you’re still awake and gives you a
smile; a warm, genuine smile. You watch his light slowly get dimmer as he walks
away, and you think you are alone to your thoughts again. Suddenly, his light
comes back and you sit up to see the guard standing by your bed with a paper
cup full of water. He hands it to you, with that calm smile still on his face,
and the cool water runs down your throat until you feel it hit your stomach.
The flashlight beam disappears back into that dauntingly long hall and you look
over at your roommate, still sound asleep. You lie back down and drift off to
the unsettling feeling that you’re supposed to be here. For some reason, you
were put in a ward with crazy kids and weirdly friendly security guards. © 2014 MaddieReviews
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2 Reviews Added on September 5, 2014 Last Updated on September 5, 2014 Tags: fiction, hospital, treatment, depression, prologue |