waves and ripples

treatment

day four in the hospital

— jessie's pov
i stayed to myself, for the first ten days there was a no visitation policy. they were so many rules.

* no electronics until you've gained a " good amount" of weight
* you have to participate in group therapy or a punishment is served
* can't shave
* someone has to watch me shower ( i got a pass on that because of my trauma )
* I can't walk over 5000 steps

it was like a prison, the treatment center in america was a lot better. I throw my feet over the bed, another day. another therapy session.

this time it was a one on one session, with a psychiatrist which was just another fancy word for a counselor who can prescribe stuff.

today was diagnostic day which meant she would practically tell me what's wrong with me. I slip on the fluffy slippers and tie up my hospital gown waiting for the nurse to take me to the office.

" hello, ms.prentiss." i let out a bs smile and walk with her , my stomach was still full from the toast , jam , sausage and orange juice they gave me.

I only ate the toast with jam, and Ms. Spider eyes ( the old nurse ) forced me to down three ensures.
she left me at the office, and i sat down on the brown seat.

the lady had red hair curly hair with freckles, she looked in her late thirties but it seemed like she's aged more than that.

therapy was better than what these sessions where, I could talk about what I wanted to in therapy or not talk at all. But, with her she knew everything about me. I had to talk or she would just hold me in contempt , like it was a prison!

" Hi, Jessie. how's your day going?" she comes and sits beside me in the other chair. she was wearing pumpkin perfume. it smelled like penelope.

" it's ok." i focus on the painting of a minimalistic heart on her wall. it had the words keep fighting on it. such a cliche.

" so, i know that you been adjusting and you probably don't even want to be here." she actually said something true, I don't want to be here. I nod my head in agreement.

" but, after our psych evaluation we have your diagnostics." i keep my ear open. " depression , anorexia nervosa, anxiety and suicidal ideation." her european accent was very thick.

But, I already knew that I was that mentally messed up. she starts talking again but I focus on another painting on her wall. It was a picture of the beach- just the beach.

It took me back to the time derek and his sisters. The first time I actually felt happy after Emily's " death".

I wonder how they were doing, if Emily had told about my hospitalization or did she just cut them off, keeping her way of life ominous.

— emily's pov

i see the officers bringing in the killer, Jamison Andrews. he killed 23 woman across London. Our undercover Jada, made the capture.

I was filling out the last bit of paperwork concerning the situation, adding the names of the details involved with the arrest. " Hi, Ms. Prentiss?" I turn around to see one of the interns. her name was slipping from the top of my head. " Courtney."

" oh, yes Courtney!" I motion her to come in. " what can I help you with?" she sits across from me.

" it's about your daughter," those words brought my heart to the floor. " she's not dead or anything." it seemed like she saw where my head went to. " her psychiatrist faxed in her mental evaluation." she hands me a paper.

Jessie Prentiss
Diagnosis:

Anxiety
Depression
Suicidal ideation
Anorexia Nervosa

I let my breath go, i felt tears escape my eye. i quickly wipe it off. but, it doesn't help. I break down on the spot. crying into the palms of my hand.

I knew I was showing weakness towards the intern but i couldn't hold it in anymore. I was failing her.
everything i did or tried to do wasn't helping her at all.

" Ma'am," i turn my head towards Courtney. " if I may interrupt, I don't know your child but I do know you. sort of, and I do know that you try you best to provide and do what you can for her. it's hard to do this kind of job and still come home and be a mother." she hands me a box of tissues. " your trying your hardest, but what I would advise is that you need to lay down the law a little more and stop beating yourself up."

I turn to her mostly clueless, what does she mean by lay down the law. " your daughter is mentally unstable, so is almost half of London. she's suffering from an eating disorder, so is most boys and girls her age. But, your doing amazing parenting- and it's not your fault. think of your life back when you where her age."

I actually did think about it, young emily prentiss. " wasn't your life a mess?" it was a mess, I was pregnant, depressed and suicidal. just like her.
" and your parents were trying the best they were, but sometimes you can't stop the inevitable. no matter how good the parenting is."

that statement made me see the semi-brighter side of things, she was right. I need to stop blaming myself. but, theirs still some key factors of the situation that happened because of me.

I just need to focus on becoming a better mother for her, I told myself this before but I need to really act on it. she serves my help now. " thank you, Courtney." she rubs my back as a final exit.

— jessie's pov
it was finally over, they had provided me three different types of medication to combat my "illnesses" but nothing really mattered. I just wanted to get out of here without gaining weight.

I had come here 90 pounds and today I was 89.7 pounds. Only because of my emergency stash of laxatives I kept in my bra.

but that weight meant I wasn't going to be able to leave here anytime soon and the psychiatrist said that with that weight I'm looking at over 3 months here.

I don't know I have to do something.