Gone Crazy Be Back Soon Part Fifty Six

It was the second day in December1

I had just finished another2

Unproductive therapy session3

I was feeling hopeless again4

I fingered the sharp glass5

That I now carried around in my pocket6

In case the voices demanded that I use it7

“Just do it. Cut. Do it on your arm this time. Nice vertical lines. Not horizontal. Vertical. Up the street not across. End it all. It will be so easy.”8

I looked at the scar on my finger9

And remembered how easily10

So much blood had seeped out11

With just one fast brush of sharpness12

Against my soft skin13

I fingered the glass again14

Just then my dad showed up in the waiting room15

He was ready to pick me up and bring me home16

To another week of struggling and hurting 17

I knew I couldn’t deal with it18

I knew I couldn’t stand it19

My dad had concern in his eyes20

He could see me floundering around21

And knew I was struggling and in pain22

His eyes were etched with 23

Weariness24

Fear25

And love26

He approached me slowly27

“How was therapy?”28

His question was gentle29

But probing at the same time30

He gently rested a hand on my shoulder31

I leaned in and hugged him32

And breathed in his smell 33

Of man’s deodorant and coffee34

I heard the sound of choking sobs35

And thought that I had made him cry36

But then I realized it was me that was sobbing37

He hugged me so tight38

Like he never wanted to let go39

Like he was scared he’d lose me40

if he backed up or let go41

Life couldn’t continue like this42

And we both knew it43

He gently rubbed my back44

And led me down the stairs45

On the first floor of the building46

Where my therapy took place47

Was the mental health crisis clinic48

“Do you want to talk to a crisis counselor?”49

Dad asked 50

His voice was steady51

But I could hear the worry52

Laced behind his calm words53

I couldn’t bring myself to speak54

But I knew what I needed55

I nodded56

Dad guided me in through the heavy doors57

I noticed with a sick feeling of foreboding58

That the doors could lock from the inside59

If one of the crisis counselors decided 60

That they needed to hold someone in61

Possibly against their will.62

I thought back to the times63

That I’d seen ambulance arrive64

At this very clinic65

And the times that I’d seen people66

Escorted out by paramedics to be taken67

To one of those torture chambers they called68

Inpatient Psychiatric Units69

My heart was beating hard and fast70

But I let dad guide me to a chair71

And then sat down as he introduced me72

To the receptionist at the front desk73

My whole body shook even though74

I had stopped crying several minutes ago75

Thoughts raced through my mind76

Like speeding bullets shot at close point77

I knew I didn’t want to return to Bailey Hill Hospital78

And I was so scared that I would be sent there79

I didn’t know if I was going to be hospitalized80

Or not81

I didn’t know if I wanted to be hospitalized 82

Or not83

I didn’t know if I needed to be hospitalized 84

Or not85

A girl whose arms were scarred over86

With slashes of cuts and scars87

From her upper arms down to her wrist88

Sat angrily doodling on a piece of paper89

She drew red hearts and then made slashes90

Straight through the center of each heart91

She looked to be only a few years older then me92

But she had no one to sit with her and rub her back93

After waiting a while someone came out 94

From the hall of offices behind the main desk95

They were carrying bags of her stuff96

They helped her carry the stuff through the door97

And I could hear the throbbing of an ambulance engine98

Just outside the walls of the crisis clinic99

Then just like that the girl with the cut up arms100

Was gone and I was alone again with my dad101