Kobe

Toddler

I've given up on speaking at this point. Every time I open my mouth I either gag or groan. This is the longest I've stayed up for, about ten minutes. I've studied this room inside and out well enough to know I am in a hospital. Wires are popping out of my chest and arms, I have a one-to-one half asleep next to me.

Wait...

I'm alive.

I'm fucking alive.

I open my mouth, hoping words will come out to let my sleepy one-to-one know I am awake. And something does come out. Throw up.

I mean, I guess that's one way of letting her know I'm awake. The sleepy one-to-one shot out of her seat and started to talk to me like I was a toddler.

You know, toddlers. The kind of humans that think they have it bad because they didn't get their snack.

I want to be a toddler again.

• • •

There's a dog on my mother fucking bed. Why is there a dog on my bed.

With a birthday hat.

"Come on Caitlin, look at the dog! Look, she likes you!"

"No", I manage to spit out. I could barely move my face. It's not until then I realize there are about five people in this room with me, four unrecognizable faces, and my mom.

I want to throw my arms around her and tell her I'm sorry for everything. But I just stare. I just stare at her tear stained, red face. This is frustrating. I can't do what I need or want to do I don't have control.

I remember what happened. Clearly. I found bottles of pills and thought that it was the end. Well, I was wrong. Dead. Fucking. Wrong.

I'm crying now.

My face is wet.

So is my bed.

Shit.

Before I knew it, the only face I know got kicked out, and I was left with four nurses.

Sleepy nurse was here.

There was a nurse who had dark purple hair, purple nurse.

There was the third nurse, who to be quit honest looked younger than me, young nurse.

And the last nurse, had kind of a face that told you to go fuck yourself. Mean nurse.

It took four of them to lift my almost 105 pound body. Sleepy nurse pulled down my diaper that I just now realized I was wearing, she took a small wipe and wiped the diaper and pulled it back up.

Shouldn't you change it? Am I going insane? Instead of saying something, as much as I really wanted to, I cried even harder.

Then I heard my mothers voice, asking the doctor what is wrong with me, choking back tears. I don't have to see her to know that.

I tossed my body onto this shitty hospital bed and let out all my emotions, until I drifted into what I hoped was death, but I knew, I was just going to wake up again.

• • •

"I have no sympathy for you Caitlin."

I stared at my father, then my step mother.

"Do you not realize how fucking selfish you are by doing this? What about Alec, or Vicki? What would I tell them?"

I don't give a fuck.

"I'm going home." I said, my father stood up and raised his voice,

"No. You are going to a hospital that has the patience to care for you that's where you're going."

"I'm going home!" I screamed. My father stood up and left in anger as I continued screaming.

That is all I could remember. Until the day I left to get transferred to another slice of heaven. Mather hospital. I have been there about three times prior, and I'm not kidding when I say that it's a slice of heaven. Compared to the other shit shows around here, Mather is a vacation home.

I am beyond grateful I'm not going anywhere else.

Before I was completely possessed to overdose, I was in a day program. My friends Layla and Emmit where there from my day program so I mean, I know people.

A man and woman lifted up my stretcher. Without movement for about 5 days, once the stretcher lifted up and smiled like a toddler. Ah a toddler.

"You like amusement park rides?" The man asked smiling, I smiled back, "yes" I replied happily.

The whole time getting pushed on that stretcher the man moved it around and bounced me up and down on it and I couldn't help but just smile and think to myself, "this is not happening anymore".

Of course, it is.

My tear stained face mother walked along my side silently trying her hardest to force a smile. It made me feel bad that my smile was actually genuine. From a fucking moving stretcher.

Again, I don't remember much of this, and even if I did, I don't want to. But I have to because it's a part of my life now. It shouldn't be though.

An actual huge part of me knows I'm going home.

"Knows"

This is a shit show.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So as I was saying this is a true story of my life. The first parts (especially this one) are gonna be short and painful haha. But everything in this story is 100% true and all happened in the summer of 2017. When I was 15. The photo on top was taken the day I overdosed.