I woke up the next morning to the buzzing of the intercom above my bed. It was time to check vitals, something they did twice a day. I groggily walked to the common room and sat down. I was now the center of attention among everyone. Since I had been admitted at three that morning no one had seen me sign in. It was similar, I would guess, to the initiations new prisoners would go through. "What's your name? Where you from? What you in for?" My turn came quickly, which I was grateful for. I'm not much of a talker first thing in the morning, especially given the current location. I sat in the chair, rolled up my sleeve and opened my mouth. I was a trained gorilla. Upon confirming that I was indeed alive, I retreated back to my room. I got dressed as best I could, lacking the essentials such as a brush, my deodorant, my shoe laces and my bra. All had been confiscated the night before. I flopped back on my bed and looked to the bed next to me. My roommate of the moment tearfully asked the normal initiation questions.

"You are so lucky," she said, "that you are getting help at such a young age. You're such a beautiful, young woman. You have your whole life ahead of you. What's someone like you doing in here, hun?" The buzzer above my bed went off again. It was time for breakfast. Thank God.

The food here was surprisingly good. It was definitely better than the undercooked or overcooked crap they served at the college, depending on the day. Breakfast usually consisted of bacon and eggs, toast, orange juice and a cup of coffee. Coffee would become my companion for the rest of my stay, as it had my other three stays. I quickly made friends with the other patients. Being in a setting such as this, one tends to form a very close, loving family, the kind of family one wishes they really had. These people would hear the deepest, darkest parts of my soul. They would become the ones who would pass the tissues across the table and give side hugs as we walked down the hall. These complete strangers already cared for me more than my mom.

After breakfast I fled to my bed. I knew the first group was next and I was in no mood to participate. When the buzzer went off I just ignored it and rolled over, putting the pillow over my head. Twenty minutes later the head nurse knocked on my door. "Since you're not going to go to group I might as well give you the aspirin you asked for." I followed her to the room where meds were administered. There were two young ladies sitting, waiting, observing. They were med students getting their field observations. Of course they had their lives together. I wonder what they thought of me… "You really should go to group," the head nurse lectured. "Don't tell me you're in here because of that boy. That's such a stupid reason to be depressed." I saw the med students staring at me. I knew the nurse was trying to make me feel better, but she was so invalidating. Didn’t she know how stupid I felt that this thing with Tim and I was stupid and that I felt stupid for it bothering me?

I just decided to go to group. I wasn't gonna give that nurse a reason to judge and embarrass me like that again. I entered the room and all eyes were on me. "You're back," said Jerry, one of the many therapists I had come to know and trust from my other three visits. "Can't say I'm glad to see ya to be honest. Nothing personal, you just seemed so much better when you left last week." The topic du jour was on being assertive as opposed to being passive, aggressive or the ever so popular passive-aggressive. I pulled out my journal and pen and began to copy the notes on the dry erase board. On the left was the list of words we were not allowed to say in group. These words had been on that board since my first hospitalization three years earlier. I imagined if I went over and tried to erase the marker it wouldn't come off.

Group was over and it was time to see Dr. Eaton, my psychiatrist. He had been my psychiatrist last week and was this time as well, so apparently I hadn't scared him off. "So this thing with you and Tim is still bothering you?" he asked compassionately. I liked him. There was no judgment or scolding in his voice. If he was judging me, his many years of work had taught him to hide it. "The nurse at the college suggested I try a mood stabilizer," I told him. "She thinks it'll even me out." This made sense of course, since my emotions were seemingly out of control all the time. I'd much rather be a robot if it would save my friendship with Tim. He smiled. "Okay. We can try that. I'll start you off on Trileptal and we'll see what happens. Usually it's given to people with Epilepsy to prevent seizures, but one can take it for mood as well. It's a fairly new medication, but it doesn't cause weight gain. Seems kind of silly to give a depressed woman something that would cause her to gain weight, don't you think?" Did I mention I liked him?

The rest of the day was full of groups and free time। No one came and visited me during visiting hours. I wasn't surprised. I was very tempted to call Tim. I wanted to talk to him so much, beg him to come see me. He never did of course. Why would he? I had scared him off. Who could love an emotional freak? At bedtime I took Trileptal for the first time. I was sitting in the common room watching Family Guy with a couple other patients. I began to feel drowsy and almost high. I could get used to this! Never had Family Guy ever been so amusing! After a while though the cloud 13 feeling turned into extreme dizziness, so I stumbled to my room and went to bed. Little did I know that I wouldn't remember waking up until after supper the next day. I wouldn't even remember getting up to get my vitals taken or use the bathroom.

~ Allyssa