Takes One To Know One

Chapter 1

I wake up and crawl out of my four-poster bed. I walk to the corner of my green painted room, where my mirror stands. I take one look at myself and sigh. Another day of looking like shit, I think to myself.

I think it’s quite obvious to just about everyone how depressed I am. I mean normally I remain in my room; cry, cut scars in my skin, and think about death. To me, that’s a normal life of a fifteen-year-old girl. To others, it’s a little different.

I didn’t choose to be this way, nor did I want it or anything. It’s not my fault I’m addicted to sadness. I would do anything to get out of this depressed life of mine, anything. I want to spend time with friends without being anxious. I want to look in the mirror without feeling insecure. I want to be happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.

With absolutely no energy, I pull off my plaid pajama pants and my old t-shirt with a band on it that I don’t even like anymore. I put on black skinny jeans and a pretty teal halter-top. I then stumble into the bathroom, and carefully place makeup on my face; it had to be perfect. One set of eyelashes couldn’t be longer than the other. Perhaps perfection is my problem. Maybe that’s why I’m so upset; I have such high expectations of perfection and then I’m let down.

I hear my mom screaming from downstairs, “Get down now! You only have 10 minutes!”

“Coming, Mom!” I yell while running down the steps. She hands me a chocolate chip muffin and I sit down at the brown rectangular table in the kitchen. She then hands me my medicine, three different pills, in the palm of my hand. I take three different types of medicine; depression medicine, anxiety medicine, and ADHD medicine. Clearly, I have many issues.

I get up from the table and pull on my grey boots and my large winter jacket. I take a deep breath, remembering where I’m going. Any normal teenager would be on their way to school right now, but not me. I’m on my way to a psychiatric center (more like a mental hospital but my mom doesn’t like me to call it that) for the first time. I’ve never been so anxious to go somewhere before. My shaking legs trouble me from standing as I put open the door to the outside.

“You ready?” Mom asks me reassuringly, knowing how worried I am to go. I silently nod yes then follow her into her large black GMC. We drive in silence, not quite knowing what to say; hence, I plug in my iPod and play Stereo Sound, my favorite band. I allow the lyrics to wrap around my head and clear the anxiety all throughout my body.

Before I know it, I arrive at the mental hospital, Central Centers. The layout of the hospital looks like a college campus, different houses and buildings. Each building is painted in light blue and signs are plastered on each one with the building name. The names changed from Child Center to Gym to Adult Impatient, then we finally arrive at the sign labeled Adolescent Center.  Mom parks in the closest spot to the small, one story building and turns off the car.

“Lets go,” she says quietly. I follow her command and slowly slide out the car door. She puts her arm around me as we walk and holds me tightly to her. I feel her steady heartbeat slowly increasing as we walk closer to the entrance.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispers to me. I smile at her encouragement and hope to believe it. What will it really be like? I’m only going to be here for two weeks, what can they do with me in only two weeks? I’m not even sleeping here either; it’s only a day treatment.

The worst part is I’m missing school for all this. I received all my work, but I’m probably going to fall so behind. I’ve had high honor roll straight through sixth and seventh grade, and now I’ll probably fall behind in eighth grade.

I open the clear glass door and step inside the warm house-like building. Since the holiday is only two weeks away, the walls are decorated with Christmas and Hanukkah stickers. We make a left out of the hallway and into a larger room where there’s a woman sitting at a desk.