Chapter Text
Well, today’s the day, discharge day. The day I have been looking forward to and dreading at the same time. It’s been a long week and an even longer month. I remember when I first got here, I wasn’t kicking and screaming more like that meme where the dog is sitting at the table drinking coffee while his entire house is burning down around him while saying “This is fine.” mental instability at its finest.
The day started the same, at 7 am the nurses made their rounds taking everyone’s vitals and making small chitchat. I took a shower shortly after, while my roommate slept. It’s weird how we’ve both gotten used to showering in a bathroom with no doors, no curtain, and dismal water pressure; psych ward patients are truly a different breed. After my shower I got dressed in the only clean clothes I had; an oversized black band t-shirt, baggy grey sweats, and oddly fitting men’s underwear, (Courtesy of my good friend.)
Breakfast was at 8 as always, today’s menu wasn’t as bland as the previous days. I choose the waffles with the limp bacon and a side fruit cup. Breakfast was eaten with little murmurs and whispers while two aides looked on at us. My roommate and a couple of other girls talked about random things around the ward while others mused about being out in the sun. Psych ward patients aren’t allowed to be outside at this specific facility, something about a lawsuit or something. As breakfast concluded, the aids separated us all into two groups of twelve. One group with one aid to do arts and crafts, while my group went to do group therapy.
Group therapy didn’t officially start until ten, it’s only because they’re giving us time to get our necessary caffeine via a coffee machine in the art room. When I finally got to my goddess she was out of coffee, a tragic sign of either I need to stop or just use my communication skills. I dread asking an aide for help, so I tell a faceless girl behind me that the machine is out, she pouts and goes to go get an aid, needless to say, I did not get any coffee. Group therapy is another outlet for us to discuss our who, what, why’s, and hows. We ladies talk mad shit about our situations and how we could fix them and or prevent them.
Our aid, Greg is one cool dude, I can’t say he’s faceless so I just put a smiley face sticker in front of his face. As we all go down the line expressing what we would do if we got out, Greg lands on me and asks
“Y/N, what would you do if you got released today?”
I actually wanted to say cry, because up until this blessed reprieve, and the three days I spent in a regular hospital before that, I had never experienced peace or enlightenment. What I mean is before I tried to kill myself is, for the past couple of years I have been depressed, I was diagnosed last year with depression, and boy oh boy were people unsympathetic. From my own family fueling my depression episodes, classmates tearing me down and making me feel like shit, oh! and my part-time job being ultra depressing. Hurting myself at work and having a wee woo ride to the hospital, I just-
“I’m probably going to a coffee house to get some real espresso.” I joked.
Everyone laughed as I made light of the coffee machine fiasco from earlier. Greg laughed so hard his sticker face changed from smiley to laughing while crying emoji. I smiled at the camaraderie we all shared at that moment. It was nice, I’m going to miss it, lord knows I can’t buy this kind of feeling even if I tried. After the group officially ended, both groups conveyed in the rec room, while some of us met with our psychiatrists.
My psychiatrist is a short woman in what I assume is her forties, and just like Greg, she has a smiley face sticker on her face. I do this to buffer myself from people and their eyes, like for example, If I don’t know you, you’re a faceless person, just a big black void where the face is supposed to be. If I know you or feel safe around you, your face is still obscured just with a smiley face emoji. Since I’ve been here a majority of the patients and staff have a smiley face plastered where their normal face should have been.
“Well today is the day, how do you feel?”
“I feel sad, I’m kinda gonna miss everyone, but I know this was a valuable experience that needed to happen.”
She nods her head as she listens on. My replies were short and dejected sounding, as I looked at her hero memorabilia, she’s a huge fan of Hawks, as stated by all the figures that litter her bookcase and the poster behind her. As our session concludes, she reminds me about the new meds she wants me to take, follow up with a therapist, and follow up with a social worker.
I smiled at her, it was the first genuine smile I could muster up and thank her.
I officially checked out at 1 pm, but before I left I told my roommate and a select few others that I was leaving and they all gushed over me, telling me that I was going to be fine and that I better get the best espresso ever. I laughed at their jokes and cried with them a little. Once I gathered all the clothes and art projects I had, a nurse came to collect me. I waved at everyone and said my final goodbyes as I was led out of the secure psych ward and into an elevator. Down we went, like five floors, and into a brightly lit waiting room, where one person was waiting for me.
A woman dressed all in a depressing shade of grey. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, she’s not wearing a sticker on her face. her eyes were painted a mute violet, while also showing signs of sleep deprivation, with nude-colored lips. If this is bad I would hate to see her worse for wear. She looks at me with teary eyes as she slowly stands up from the waiting room chair. Slowly she walks up to me, staggering as she reaches out to touch my face and then ruffles my hair. Then unexpectedly, I feel her arms wrap around me as she pulls me in for a tight hug.
“You're finally out, y/n.”
“It’s good to see you mom.”
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The walk to the cafe was a quiet one. It wasn’t the conversation about classmates and assignments, nor about the new All might figure. It was my deafening silence or my unwillingness to contribute to the conversation. I knew in my hardest of hearts what she wanted to ask me, but I’m not willing to talk about that right now, I don’t feel safe with her. This isn’t group therapy and she's not Greg.
The cafe was bustling with people, so much so that I was ready to throw the towel. Then the rich aroma of roasted beans and freshly steamed milk hit my nose. I had to calm my shaky nerves, but in the end, I hid behind my mother as we walked in. We ordered our drinks; a London fog for her and caramel macchiato for me to go. While waiting for our drinks we found an unoccupied table to wait while waiting for drinks. During this time my mother took it upon herself to try to start a conversation with me.
“So, the psych ward, was it cold?”
I accidentally snorted before laughing, which in turn triggered her to laugh in response. My response was short and polite, but inside I wanted to tell her how much she hurt me, but before I could muster the courage our order was called up.
We left the busy coffee shop before it got any busier. Walking back to the car was peaceful. We talked about our cat, graham cracker, and her luxurious, Long, and blonde fur. Once in the car, the drive made me nervous. I explained it was being confined in a tight space.
" Listen I know this is a bad time to talk about this…" she started, never taking her eyes off the road, " You were accepted into UA."
I look at her in shock.
" I never applied to UA, I applied to an all-girls school."
"I know, but a teacher came to the house after you were hospitalized and then I met the principal at the hospital, while you slept." She rambled
" So you accepted on my behalf...great."
I turned on the radio to drown out the silence. When we finally reached home, there was a black car parked outside our gate.
Was my mother expecting visitors?
Mother slowly parked in our driveway, she told me to stay in the car while she went to go check the other car.
My mind started to race. All I thought about were negative things, what if's and such. It felt like time stopped as I slowly reached for the door handle. My breathing became ragged and choppy until I heard my door open.
Mother's face came in view, she looked refreshed and calm.
" You can come out, it's a teacher and the principal from UA. They want to meet with you." She smiled.
It has been two hours since I left the psych ward, and god is already testing me for a test I didn't study for.