Diagnosed Chaos

Chapter 3 • Can I Sit Here? 👱🏻‍♀️

Jamaica, my mother, and I walked down a short hallway, stopping at a large set of lockers.
"You must put your phone, and car keys in a locker ma'am." Jamaica said.
My mother was finished unloading her things into an empty locker when Jamaica finished that sentence.
"Let's go, shall we?" Jamaica walked us a little further down he same hall, only to find ourselves at another set of large, wooden double doors. She waved her badge in front of a small metal box on the wall, the boxed beeped for a long second, and then the door popped open.
We went through the doors and now we were 'on the unit'. The unit is where the patients eat, sleep, and spend their entire day. In other hospitals, you are restricted to the unit for your first 24 hours, just until you get used to the environment. Then you can go to the cafeteria, the gym. But in this hospital, there is just, the unit. That is all. You stay, in the same room, at the same table, all day long, until you are discharged.
We were put in another room that looked like the interrogation room, except this one had a much more discreet camera. And the walls were the OPPOSITE of sound proof, so we could hear the screaming and crying coming from all directions. It had two chairs, a desk, a computer, and a gigantic filing cabinet. I sat down and so did Mom. Jamaica sat on the other side of the desk, in the office chair.
"Alright Ms. Lauren. Let's get this started, shall we?"
The admission process normally takes about 2 hours. Normally. My case must have been a little unusual because my admission took 5 hours.
Once the paperwork is sorted out, they took me back for my least favorite part. The strip-search.
This is something that every patient goes through upon arrival, to take into account all your cuts, bruises, and scars. They also want to make sure you're not trying to smuggle something in like a lighter or, I don't know. It's disgusting, I know. I mean, the nurse searching me said they do the 'squat and cough' method in case of CELL PHONES.
WHAT?! I just HOPE and PRAY that you are not going to a rehab center, so desperate to have your IPHONE 8 PLUS that you would go, THAT far. (That's the kind of phone I have, and no way in hell. I left my phone home, because no.) They WILL find it. And that IS gross. Anyway.
They took me to the QR, or the quiet room, to do my search. When you're a girl, like myself, it HAS to be two females doing the search. It was the charge nurse, Regan, in whom became one of my main allies, and Jamaica who were performing my search. Jamaica held up a hospital gown and then Regan stepped in.
"Okay sweetheart, I know this sucks, but let's make it quick." Regan said.
"First thing, I'll need your shorts, and your t-shirt."
My heart started pounding all of a sudden. I could feel myself trying to act calm, but my heart was beating a million miles minute. I slowly slid my shorts off, and I handed them to Regan. I put my fingertips on the hem of my t-shirt, and I actually felt my heart jump into my mouth. Why was I having such a hard time doing this? And then I remembered, I've been through some things that would make you want to shower with your clothes on . I slid my shirt off and handed it to Regan. As she handed me my shorts back, she asked,
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah." I said. I flashed her a quick trademark Lauren smile. The one that melts your worries for me away.
"Okay, now I need your bra and undies."
I looked at her in pain.
"I know honey, but I have to check them."
I took my bra off and gave it to her. Then I slid my undies off and handed them to her. She ran the scanner over everything. I felt more vulnerable than I ever have in my whole life standing there.
"Okay, it's all good. Here is everything back, we'll wait for you to redress." Regan said as she handed me all my clothes in a pile.
"Thanks." I said. It didn't sound very sincere. Probably because it wasn't.
Jamaica said she had something else she needed to do, so Regan to me back to my mother to say goodbye.
When I walked into the room, my mother stood and smiled.
"This is going to be good, yeah?" She said, trying to reassure herself, I think.
"Yeah, Mom. I'll see you in a few days at visitation?"
"Yes, of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world."
And with that, it was time for her to go. She left the room, and Regan and I were still standing there.
"Ready?"
"Nope. Let's go." I said.
Regan chuckled and opened the door for me, and I walked out. She walked me all the way down the hall, to the nurses station. She gave me a colored wristband that showed my name, birthday, and date of arrival. My wristband was yellow, meaning I had Dr. Timpani. He was a middle-aged Indian man in whom I'd met before. He was my doctor, the LAST time I came to Black Oak. And we disagreed on everything then, so I don't see how this time would be different. But oh well.
Once I got my band, they walked me across the hall to the 'day room'. It's where the patients spend their entire day. Literally. It was about the size of a small Burger King dining area. The wall facing the nurse's station was made mostly of glass. The wall opposite that was mostly glass as well, probably because it let outside to a courtyard. It's actually more like a concrete fishbowl, because the walls are about 15 feet high, and made of cold, grey cement.
Dreamy, right? In the giant room itself, add in 28 over-medicated, worn-out, judgmental teenage boys and girls. When I walked in, everyone got really quiet, and all eyes on me. Just fucking stared me. Like get your silverware out too while your at it, for Christ's sake.
People slowly went back to what they were doing, and I found an empty seat at an empty table. Normally boys and girls are separated, but at this particular they weren't. They were playing cards and laughing together. Sharing snacks and holding hands under the table. I thought that was so dumb. I was in my own world when legit, 10 girls walked over to my table carrying papers and crayons and buckets of markers. They were all staring at me. I felt like a cornered dog. One in the front spoke.
"Can we sit by you? You look scared."
I actually laughed out loud when she said that.
"Yes, of course. Go ahead, make yourselves comfy."
I moved my book over so they could set their things down. They brought chairs and MORE markers and I was actually kinda happy.
"What's your name?" I asked the girl who spoke to me.
"Rose. Yours?" She asked.
"Lauren." I said.
"Really? I like that name." Rose said with a smile. I could tell she was trying to make me feel welcome.

All of a sudden I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders.
"LAUREN? LAUREN E.? Oh my gosh it's you! I know you! I know her! She was at Hartpledge with me! Oh my gosh, I missed you!" She went to hug me and a worker pulled her back.

I hadn't even turned around yet and I knew exactly who that fucking was.
Kay.

Thank you for reading and supporting me!
Chapter 4, tomorrow @ 5pm.❤️💫

Update: The character in the story 'Rose' meant a lot to me and was a very big help in my recovery. Unfortunately in March of 2018, she commited suicide. It was devastating for me and it really reminded me that sometimes we really get better, and sometimes we just get better at hiding our pain. Never be afraid to ask for help.

National Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255