psych ➳ muke

15

If I believed in God, I would thank him for creating weekends and eight thirty wake up calls. But, I don't, so I internally express my gratitude as I pull myself from the bed and pad down the hallway. I follow the usual morning routine of collecting my toiletries and showering in the hall bathroom. Michael is still sound asleep when I return to Room 7, Harold is standing in the doorway calling helplessly to the boy.

"I'll get him," I state with a small smile, sliding through the frame.

Harold just nods, exhaustion apparent on his features. I set my bucket on the small counter placed under the metallic mirror, turning to face the boy. I move to sit on the edge of his bed, shaking him gently by the shoulder.

"Michael, love, wake up," I coo, sliding my hand to rest on his back, rubbing slow circles with the palm of my hand, "Come on, it's time to get up."

He groans, slapping a hand to his face in a sort of protest. He rubs at his eyes, "Don't wanna."

I chuckle, patting him on the shoulder, "Come on. I've already showered, you're running late."

Eventually, he rises from his bed and grumbles down the hall. I finish up, brushing my teeth and combing my hair, and return my bucket. In the room, I make both Michael and I's beds - even though he is meant to make his own.

At nine Louise starts morning group, which I have rendered as the most unimportant group of the day. She reads through her list of nurses whom are on shift today and follows up by asking how we are feeling. Everyone is fine or okay except for Jai, he's miserable.

A half an hour later at breakfast Jai still hasn't improved. He keeps his head down and is refusing to eat - he ends up being sent to his room to cool down. Yesterday he appeared just fine, it's as if he attitude changed entirely overnight. And if that isn't bad enough, Michael begins to fidget halfway through breakfast. His leg bounces uncontrollably and his eyes squint every time he looks up from his tray.

Luckily, Jai rejoins us for ten o'clock group and is looking much better than before. Louise runs group for the second time.

"Okay! Just as when Luke was admitted, we are going to introduce ourselves and state why we are here. Formal diagnosis' please!"

Ivy, "Manic depression."

Sawyer, "Volatile anger."

Acacia, "Nymphomaniac."

Brynn, "Severe suicidal tendencies."

Michael, "Schizophrenia."

Myself, "Major depression and bipolar disorder."

And then Jai clears his throat and stutters out, "Dissociative identity disorder."

Dissociative identity disorder? He has multiple personalities!

Louise thanks us for cooperating just as Acacia coughs out, "Sybil!". Brynn, her side bitch, laughs mockingly. I want to speak out in Jai's defense, but I stop myself. Don't get yourself in trouble. Acacia is corrected on here behavior and sent out of the room as punishment - she won't learn from it, she'll always be rude. Louise continues speaking for the rest of group, periodically asking for our input on the topics. She covers each of our disorders in detail, making sure we understand what each one of us is going through. It's different than other groups and for once, change is good. I suddenly feel closer to the other patients, as if I understand then just a little more.