SCARRED (Scars) (3 page)

CHAPTER
3

Rehab

              This sucks. “Voluntarily committed” – my ass. It seems like mom dropped me off and left me here with a hug and an ‘I love you’, then she was gone. Thanks mom, I love you too. She left me to make my way through this place. I don’t want to be here. I don’t need to be here.

Day 1

              My first day of rehab consists of getting settled in, a drug test, an alcohol test, a physical, and filling out the paperwork to get my assignments for school. Yes school, I may be in rehab but I still have to do my assigned school work so that I don’t get behind.

Ha Ha. These people are so funny.

              I am assigned to a room with another girl, I don’t know what she looks like or even what her name is. I haven’t seen her since I got here. The counselor takes me to my room and starts going through my bags. Complete invasion of privacy. She proceeds to take my razor, so apparently I will have hairy legs and armpits for my stay.

             
“Some people take the blades out and try to commit suicide.”

             
She also informs me that I can only use stick deodorant and cannot have mouthwash. Apparently they contain alcohol and addicts have been known to consume these items in a time of need.

             
Yuck! So not going to happen here
.

             
They take my tennis shoes and give me flip-flops because I may be at risk of hanging myself.

             
Really? I’m the one that needs help. I don’t think so. This place is crazy.

             
One of the last things that I am informed of before we leave my room to go to meet my psychologist is that there is absolutely no contact with the males that are housed in another wing of the facility.

             
The rest of my day here is very mundane, just going around getting the lay of the land and meeting the personnel who will be “helping me through my stay”. Then we are instructed that it is time for lights out. Of course, I finally meet my roommate ten minutes before we are to go to bed.

             
This is just great, I am sharing a room in the loony bin with come crazy girl named Cigi who stares at me while I try to sleep and may or may not try to kill me.

Day 2

              At five o’clock in the morning an alarm that sounds worse than any fire alarm I have ever heard begins blaring through our wing. I shoot straight up in the bed ready to run for the nearest exit when I realize that is how they wake us up daily. Not that I got any really good sleep as it was. I didn’t time them but I know someone kept coming into the room at specific intervals all through the night, apparently to check on us.

             
Isn’t this supposed to be a place to de-stress, not line up for a nervous breakdown
.

             
“Come on, throw on your flip-flops and get in line, we have to go take our meds.” My new roommate informs me.

             
“What meds?” I ask.

             
“Whatever your doctor deems is the best for you. For most people they are strictly vitamins but there are a few here that take some heavy shit.” She responds.

             
“Okay! Then what?”

             
“Lets hurry and get in line, first ones through the line have more time to get ready in the morning. We have thirty minutes after meds before heading to the cafeteria for breakfast.” Cigi states.

             
“What if I can’t eat this early. I am not much of a breakfast person until at least until after ten in the morning?”

             
“You need to do the best you can because if you don’t eat properly they will put you on a strict diet and will also put you on suicide watch.”

             
“Are you serious?” I ask in a bit of a shock.

             
“As I will ever be. Have you ever been spoon fed? Well that is what will happen if they are not pleased with what, when and how you eat.”

             
I slide a robe over my pajamas, which by the way has no tie either so I can’t hang myself with it, before I slip on my make shift shoes and take my place in line in the hallway for my morning meds. Once I have choked down three horse pills I head back to my room to shower and go have breakfast.

After
breakfast is over, all of the girls on this wing meet in the recreation room for a spirituality meeting then head to the classroom for “school”. There is a wide range in age so even though it is a classroom with one teacher for four hours, we are pretty much on our on to learn. If we have a question about something, we had better figure it out ourselves because the lady sitting in the room with us acts more like a hall monitor than a teacher. We stay in the classroom until lunchtime.

             
After lunch we get the privilege of spending an hour outside for “exercise” before we are corralled inside for a “group therapy session” where we “share our addictions and problems with our peers”. I am guessing this is meant to be a support group, however, there are quite a few girls in this room way more fucked up than I am.

             
Note to self: My roommate is fucking crazy. Sleep with one eye open at all times.

             
The rest of the afternoon is spent either in the recreation room watching television, reading, or just hanging out with the rest of the craziness while we alternate one on one therapy sessions with a counselor. I manage to find a nice corner to sit and read, alone.

             
My counselor is a woman, mid thirties, named Mrs. Gosling. Today is the first day I meet with her so I am unsure of what to really do. She says she is here to let me “talk” while she “gets a feeling for me”. In teenager language she is “analyzing how crazy or fucked up I am”. I spend most of my hour sitting in a chair across from her silent.

             
That therapy session went well
.

             
An hour before dinner we are all sent to the gym to exercise. By gym, I am not talking about the gym you find at school with a basketball court, etc. This is a real gym, with treadmills, elliptical machines, weights, bikes and more. They really expect us to work out. I guess I will spend my hour on the treadmill.

             
After dinner, we have another group session which is more of a team building session. The goal is for us to get to know each other, work with each other, and help out in different situations. Personally, this is probably the most fun I have had all day. If I didn’t know half of these girls would kill without batting an eye, I would probably hang out with a few of them outside of this place.

             
We get one hour after the night session for phone calls and writing letters before bedtime, which is strictly enforced to be nine o’clock. I am never going to be able to go to sleep that early. Oh well, I guess I will lay here and stare at the ceiling pondering how fucked up my short life has been.

Day 3

              I wake up before the alarm goes off in a cold sweat and shaking uncontrollably. My head is killing me and my entire body aches.

             
Oh my God, I’m gonna be sick.

             
I jump up and run to the bathroom barely making it to the toilet before I start throwing up everything in my stomach. I am freezing cold and trembling but I cannot find any strength to stand and wash my face or rinse my mouth out.

             
A nurse comes into the bathroom to help me up and get me cleaned up before getting me back in the bed. She covers me with a few blankets before leaving the room. When she returns she is carrying a paper cup of water and a smaller paper cup with my horse pill vitamins and two Tylenol.

             
“Take these, the Tylenol will help your headache.” She explains.

             
“How in the hell did I end up with the flu? It’s not even flu season yet.”

             
“You don’t have the flu, Jordan. You are going through detox.”

             
“Detox? I am not going through detox, I don’t have a drug problem.” I yell.

             
“Yes, you are going through detox, and while we are here to help you through it the only thing we can give you is vitamins and Tylenol. You will have to withstand the rest until the worst of this is over.” She explains.

             
“I am not going through detox!” I yell again but it seems that no one is paying attention to me, not even my roommate who apparently woke while I was retching in the bathroom and is sitting on her bed nodding her head at me.

             
“Ok Jordan, you stay in bed and I will have your meals brought to you today. With you going through detox and the withdrawal symptoms it is best that you stay in your room today so that we can monitor you properly without putting the other patients at risk.”

             
This bitch is crazy
.

             
“Whatever you say, but I am not going through detox.” I grumble before I roll over and snuggle into the covers. Even with all the blankets I am still freezing and my body hurts like hell.

Day 5

              Today, I can finally get out of bed, get out of this room. I have been sick as hell for the past two days with nurses hovering over my every move. The only help they would give were my vitamins and Tylenol, as well as helping me clean up after I would puke and keeping me warm in bed. I can finally take a shower alone without someone in the bathroom watching me. I know I am still stuck in this hell hole but it will feel good to see the other crazies here.

             
My head still hurts and my body is achy but no where near the extent it has been over the past forty-eight hours. The only problem I have today is that I am pissy as hell. I snap at everyone and everything. I guess now I have to get caught up on all the schoolwork I have missed lately as well as enjoy all the glares I get from the other girls. They just better not cross me today because I am bound to explode any moment now.

Day 7

Yeah, It’s Saturday!

             
Wait, what the fuck…we still have to go to class today. I guess I missed all that bullshit when I was being admitted last weekend. From what I understand, today is also the one day each week we are allowed visitors and apparently my mom has come to see me.

             
After we are finished with lunch we have a group session while the facility apparently cleans the cafeteria because that is where we have visitation. I am escorted to the cafeteria where I see my mom sitting alone at a table waiting. I slowly move across the room and when I approach her I ask “Where is everybody else?”

             
“Your dad has to work and I am not going to bring your sisters here to see you like this.” Mom answers.

             
“So why did you come?” I ask.

             
“I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. You haven’t called so I was worried.”

             
“I didn’t call because I don’t have anything to say to you. I want to talk to dad. You are the reason I am here in the first place. Now if you would please leave and don’t come back unless dad is with you or you decide I am good enough to see my own sisters.” I snap at her as I turn around and quickly leave the room.

             
Okay so my first visitation didn’t go so well. Now at least I have something to talk to the counselor about.

Day 17

              I have managed to get into a routine and actually am beginning to like this place. I most certainly don’t have mom bitching and nagging every time I turn around. I have made a few friends and actually feel like I am learning some things; about myself as well as actually absorbing some of my school lectures.

             
I still haven’t called mom, though I have talked to dad a few times and I refused to see mom this past Saturday when she came for visitation. Oh well, I guess she still hasn’t taken what I said to heart. I have finally decided to actually talk to my counselor about my problems today rather than my usual “how’s the weather?”

             
“So Jordan, how have you been today?” Mrs. Gosling asks.

             
“I’m actually doing better.”

             
“So what do you want to talk about today, weather, politics, your choice?”

             
“Well, you keep asking me about what’s wrong with me. At first, I didn’t think I belonged here. There are some days that I still don’t think I belong here. I do think my mother belongs here, or rather in the Psych ward.” I snicker before I continue.