Day Two

On Thursday, June 27th my parents tried to force me to see a therapist of their choosing. They said they were worried I was going to hurt myself and wanted me to get help. So they showed me a business card for a crisis center in Brockton. It had only one phone number and no website. I told them I wanted to look it up and see what it was about, or find a place of my choosing. (I had this wild idea that I should be able to choose my own therapist, silly me) My mother told me that I had to go to that place, right then & there, or else I couldn’t stay at their house. I said “okay”, walked upstairs and started reaching out to friends & family so I could have a safe place to lay my head for a few days. I wasn’t going to be forced to open up. I wanted to do it on my time but living under their, roof means I follow what they say, when they say it, despite my age. Less than two hours later, there was a knock on my door and I was greeted by three police officers, three firemen & two paramedics. I was enraged. I felt betrayed. This was the second time my parents had called 911 on me and got me taken away. I wanted to fight. I wanted to tear the whole house up but I knew if I had shown even the slightest aggression, they would restrain me. I choose to walk out only because I knew one of the firemen. We went to high school together, and I trusted him. He told me if I don’t go on my own, that they would take me. So I went “willingly”, but it was never my actual choice. After being evaluated at Good Samaritan, the psychiatrist told me she had no reason to admit me, until she called home and my parents said they didn’t feel safe with me being there. When they told me I was being admitted & they were just waiting on a bed to open up, my anxiety went through the roof. The betrayal felt deeper. I wanted to scream, but I could’t. I couldn’t even cry. When I started to, the nurse took the hospital phone away from me and said I could get it back when he felt I was being safe. I tried to cover my head with the blanket but the nurse sitting outside my door said she had to see my face at all times. I sat there and held everything in. Started to picture images of psych wards from movie scenes with padded walls and doors without handles and small windows. I had never been in a psych ward before, and I certainly didn’t want to go, or think I needed to be in one. I got there late that night around 11 pm. I wasn’t on any medication or drugs but my mind was so cloudy I can barely remember what I signed during the intake. After they showed me to my bed, I very quietly cried myself to sleep. I didn’t want to wake the girl next to me or alarm the staff as they were doing fifteen minute checks. The next morning, I woke up angry and felt trapped. I had no intentions of talking to anyone while I was in there. I just wanted to do my bid and get out as soon as possible. I had no initial intentions of participating in groups or interacting with anyone but the nurses and doctors (when I had to). It was my roommate that changed all of that. She was really sweet and didn’t seem like she belonged there, either. She seemed, “normal”. She told me “this place isn’t that bad” and the other people there are nice and I should try and be open minded. She invited me to play uno with some other really nice folks in there. By the end of my second day, I had met some really amazing people that I now consider my friends. We all shared pieces of our stories over monopoly and oreos. We laughed. We cried. We prayed (I’m not even religious and they had me reading the bible). We uplifted each other. Had it not been for the friends I made inside, I’m not sure how my stay at the psych ward would have went. Or if I would have been discharged when I was. They helped me. So much. They also thought it was really cool that I wrote poetry. This poem is a free write inspired by them. By their bright energy and positive outlook, despite their situations. I am forever grateful for the support I received and I can only hope I was able to do the same for them. If ya’ll are reading this, I love you, I’m still here for you, and I hope you are well. Take care of yourselves.

Day two is over

We survived again

And tomorrow

We will do the same

We will not allow locks

To cage our mind

Or our Love

This place

Is trigger happy

But my release date

Be my bullet proof vest

Be my matrix

And I be the chosen one

With a purpose, perhaps unknown

But still so important

And I know this

Because the universe told me so

When it pushed me to the edge

When it brought me here

When it gave me a notepad

When it gave me friends

When it gave me strength

I know I am important

I know I matter

I know I’m going to survive this

I know we all will.

3 thoughts on “Day Two

  1. Yo I just caught up on your entries from the make up routine to this one. So fuckin raw!!!!!! I just wanted to thank you for being so transparent. You really are a light even in your darkest moments! Keep shining, we see you ✊🏾❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Tsss since the first day i seen a picture of u i felt u i knew u were something special the first day i heard u talk i new u was important ur smile is lit as well im sorry u had to go threw that because u do matter but i appreciate u going threw it cus u do have the strength and i know u will help us who to are surviving


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