Stay 1: Fall 2015

My eyes open to a pale room. 

Buried in white sheets.

Staring at the ceiling.

I am silent.

Trying to make sense of it all.

I can hear nurses in the hallway.

It must be morning.

My face sinks into my pillow.

Muffling the plea that escapes from my lips.

“Let me die.”

Stay 2: Fall 2015

How did I end up here again?

I would do anything to leave.

My mental pain is crippling.

And I gag when I even think about eating this food.

How did all of this happen?

Who am I?

What am I?

I go get another Excel mint from my room. A treat from Mom.

Stay 3: Winter 2016

I am woken at 6 in the morning.

They put me in a wheelchair.

Down to the basement we go.

Then I’m on a bed.

With anesthetic through an IV. 

And electrode pads on my head.

They make me count backwards from 10.

My world fades away.

And so begins my next round of ECT.

Electroconvulsive Therapy.

Stay 4: Spring 2016

 It’s springtime.

 My class will be graduating soon. 

I’m in the meeting room.

Trying to convince the psychiatrist to let me go home.

Even if just for a weekend pass.

As the desperation in my voice rises.

I know that she sees.

A kid that shouldn’t be going anywhere.

Stay 5: Summer 2016

I enjoy summer in the courtyard when I can.

Whenever I can get a nurse to come out with me.

This irks me.

I should be in the adult ward.

Seeing as I’m now 18.

But the ward is full.

So here I am.

The child and youth unit.

Where the child and youth nurses watch over me.

One nurse thinks I should be allowed to read alone in the courtyard.

Others don’t share the same view.

This irks me.

Stay 6: Winter 2017

I am three cups of lousy hospital decaf into my day.

Fog covers the river outside.

It’s January and bitterly cold outside.

I had to help the old man.

Who often forgets where his room is.

I get to go to the art room after lunch.

I have a roommate now.

One with a noisy sleep apnea machine.

Yay me.

Stay 7: Spring 2017

I am happy to be back.

I  waited 4 days for a bed to open up.

4 days in the basement of the general hospital.

Bored stiff.

Someone gave me a Tom Hortons gift card.

I use it to treat myself to a decent breakfast on Sundays.

I have an interview coming up.

With the owner of a mental health approved group home.

The social worker says I have a good chance of getting in.

Living someplace new might be nice.

Stay 8: Summer/Fall 2017

I got transferred back here.

After I got cleared by the doctors.

Too many pills down the hatch.

Can be bad for your health.

I can’t really think.

Or feel.

Numb.

But grateful to be alive.

Cheers to more lousy decaf.