Authors: Rebeca Ruiz
“Why didn’t you tell me how much pain you were in? I would have helped you, beautiful.” Her voice was soft and calming, but I felt anything but.
“Who told you?”
“James.” I knew. I knew who told him. I realized then that Mathew had been apologizing to me for telling him about my problems. “We’re going to get you the best help, we love you and we’re not going to leave you alone.”
A sob escaped me. I felt so betrayed and angry. I felt so many things. Crying was the only thing I could do.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere you can get the help you need.” I was going to be imprisoned. I didn’t want to go with them.
“I don’t want to go.”
“You’re going to be fine, Presley Beth. Nothing bad is going to happen you. I need to tell you something.” She grabs my hand. “I suffered with depression around your age as well, and you got my gene. I got through it, and I know you can too.”
“What if I don’t get better?” That was a serious question, one I was afraid of. I could be this mentally sick for the rest of my life.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
I thought I would be going through an outpatient program. When the two nurses came to get me, I started to get hysteric. I didn’t want to be in a hospital every day and every night. I wanted to be home.
“This is just going to make you a bit tired.” The nurse said in a calming voice before shooting me up with a relaxant.
Two minutes later, I had stopped crying and I wanted to take a nap. Of course, I wasn’t allowed to sleep, I got put into Transition.
Step one: Talk to a random guy who is a psychiatrist about everything you feel and have gone through. He asked about my sexual history, how long the cutting has been going on, how often I felt the world was against me.
Step two: Go to a room where they take your blood and then take a brain scan. Sitting still is hard. The relaxant is starting to wear off. They also bandage up my wounds.
Step three: Go to another room where they ask me to remove my clothes and they photograph every scar, every mole, every bruise. Then they gave me a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. They said it was temporary until my parents could provide me with safe clothes.
Step four: Enter the loony bin wing. I get told all the rules of the wing. I followed the nurse to my assigned room. I had a roommate.
“Feels just like college.” The nurse gives me a sympathetic look and I step into the room. This is nothing like college.
I was in the teen wing because I was still a teen. My birthday isn’t for another few months, and they believe I will thrive better with people my age.
“Presley Beth, this is Cara. Remember the rules, no last names, no exchanging of numbers, no arguing.” I started to tune her out and I stared at the girl who couldn’t be older than thirteen.
Cara. She was smiling at me. What’s so good about this place? St. Sebastian's is a Catholic hospital, but one of the best in the state of Illinois for mental illness.
“Please call me Presley.” I tell her once the nurse leaves. She said she would be back when it was time for dinner.
“Okay.” This girl takes no time at all to start talking to me like I am her best friend. “There are eight girls on this side of the wing, eight boys on the other side. I’m the youngest, and I think you’re the oldest. Everyone else is either sixteen or seventeen. What do you have? I have depression with ADHD, I’m almost done with the program if I don’t have anymore issues for the next two weeks.”
“I don’t know what I have, yet.” The psychiatrist didn’t say.
“Your case worker will probably tell you in morning group. That’s when we talk about what we want to achieve for the week, and we meet with our case workers in a group. They decide when you’re ready to go home and transition to outpatient.” She was very…eager to bond with me.
“How long have you been here?”
“Two months tomorrow, but I’m a special case. Almost everybody gets out of here and into outpatient after a few weeks.” I couldn’t imagine being here for more than a day, how could she not hate it here?
“How does everything work here?”
“You can receive letters from your family and friends, there is no phone calls unless it is an emergency. The visits occur in private rooms with someone watching you, they just don’t want you to sneak things in.” It was like Cara knew what I really wanted to know.
“Okay.” I got startled by a small alarm beep thing.
“Time for dinner, it’s Chinese night.” Cara says and I follow her.
I just have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.
Chapter Twenty
Mathew Pennington
One month later…
We were out for winter break. I’ve been a mess without Presley. I know James goes to go see her every weekend, and every time, he asks me if I’d like to come. I always want to say yes, but I always shake my head.
She hates me. Dessie always gets letters from her, probably Finn, too. I haven’t received one. I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me.
I got home, and I was alone. My parents were in New York, Ashton is pregnant, and my mom wanted to be there for her, she was still early in her pregnancy and they wanted to make sure she wasn’t stressed. I wanted to be there, too. I just know that mentally, I will not be there. Ashton said she understands that.
I’ll be there for Christmas and New Years. I’ll laugh when I need to and smile when someone talks to me. I’ll pretend to be okay, but for now I can let the darkness swallow me.
There’s a knock on my door. No one knows I am here. Except James. I honestly do not know where he is, I remember him saying something about LA.
I answer the door. I stare at the person standing in front of me. She was bundled up in winter clothing. I look at the bottle of some kind of alcohol she is holding. I step aside and let her in.
“I have to say I didn’t expect a visit from you.” Dessie shrugs and looks around my home. There were a lot of Christmas decorations up, my mom loves Christmas.
“I had nowhere else to go. I thought you might be a little lonely, and could use some alcohol. Especially after what I’m going to tell you.” I grab the bottle and take a drink. I realized it was tequila as the drink burned my throat.
“What do you need to tell me?” I sit on the couch and she sits on the table right across from me.
“Presley is out of the hospital. She got let out a few days ago. I saw her, and she looks so happy. Still has outpatient to go through, but she’s doing so much better.”
“Why would that make me want to drink?” I notice she can barely stay still. Did she drive drunk here?
“Finn was there when I arrived.” I clench my hand.
“You didn’t need to tell me that.” She shakes her head.
“But I did because you’re just sitting back, assuming that she’s angry at you when really she’s mad at herself. You’re letting Finn swoop in and take her.” She pokes my chest. “She deserves you. No one deserves her, she is smart and beautiful, but you come pretty close to deserving her. Fight for her, idiot. You fight for the people you love.”
She was right.
“Why are you drunk?” I ask her.
“James is a fucking idiot, that’s why. Why are guys such idiots?” I smile at her drunkenness.
“Lets get you to bed because I don’t think you can take one more ounce of alcohol inside of you.” I manage to get her to the guest room on the first floor. One with a bathroom, so I’m hoping she won’t ruin my mother’s carpet.
“Do you know why she doesn’t drink?” Dessie asks right when I am about to leave the room.
“Presley?”
“Yeah, who else? Stay on topic, Matty.” I chuckle.
“No, I never knew why.”
“She got drunk once and she didn’t like how vulnerable and honest it made her. I think that’s why she was so scared of you when you came into her life because you made her vulnerable and she could open up to you. But she let you in anyway. That girl loves you with all she’s got.”
“Thanks, Dessie.”
She gives me a weird look. “For what?” I smile.
“Go to sleep.”
I called James. I needed to know where Presley was. I hated not knowing. It made me feel uneasy even though I knew she was no longer a danger to herself.
“She’s at the house. I don’t know if my mom will let you go see her, since she still is pretty fragile.” If I could call her, I would. Her mother has isolated her from the world, no internet, no phone, and according to James, it’s been working.
“She’s not fragile.” I say.
“What?”
“She’s not fragile.” I repeat. “She’s strong. If there is one thing I know about Presley, it’s that she isn’t fragile, she’s far from it.”
“You’re right.” He pauses. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing, why?”
“I’ve come up with something to get you to see her.”
I smiled at the thought of seeing her.
“What if she doesn’t want to see me? What if I’m something she is going to let go?” I thought about Ashton’s words from her engagement party. What if Presley didn’t love me like she said?
“You’re thinking about this way too hard, man. Trust me, everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.” I felt a bit calmer already.
Chapter Twenty One
Presley Masters
“A dog?” I look at my mother. She’s never even allowed a squirrel onto her yard, and she wanted to bring in a dog into the house?
“Yes! You heard Dr. Hadley, a dog can help you with the healing process.” My mother would skin someone if it meant it would help with the healing process. She really was trying, and I loved her even more for it.
Dr. Hadley was my official therapist from St. Sebastian. I talk to her about my medicine and my moods, and about how my week has gone. She’s awesome, old, but awesome. She works with my psychiatrist on my treatment. This past month has been a big roller coaster.
Psychotic Depression. I originally had depression when I was fifteen. Just an imbalance in my brain. The antidepressants are helping with that part of my diagnosis. As for the psychotic part, I’ve had three episodes in the last few years. One of my antidepressants works also as a antipsychotic, so that’s managed as well.
I was reluctant about the medicine at first. I was afraid that I would just feel numb all the time, but that didn’t turn out to be the case. The medication and the therapy sessions have helped tremendously, I remember the day I started to feel a bit happy.
I cried.
It was the day Cara left treatment. She’s originally from Iowa, so that’s where she was continuing her treatment. I felt happy for her, and I realized that I couldn’t remember the last time I was happy for anyone else because I was always so wrapped up in myself and my problems.
The last five years all I had felt was contentment, not joy. I let my life fill up with darkness, all I had to do was ask for help.
Mathew was the only one who had helped me, he put my needs over his. I love him so much for that. I hated myself that it had to come down to what it did.
“Where are we going to get a dog?” I ask my mother who was handing me her keys. It was part of the “we still trust you” exercise Dr. Hadley made her do so I could get her trust again. My mother let me drive everywhere.
“Shelter. Just so you know, it’s not going to be our dog. It’s going to be yours, so you’ll be going in alone. You know, allergies.” My mother is allergic to cats.
“What if I like a cat? Or a bunny? Or a snake?” I was toying with my mom. Her eyes widened. She really wasn’t cut out to be a pet owner. “Just kidding, I’ll stick with dogs.”
“Please don’t pick a rumbustious one.” I turn on the car and pull out of our driveway. I get on the express way to get to the local animal shelter.
Dr. Hadley was very specific about getting an animal shelter pet. “Those pups are in need of homes, they were abandoned or taken out of their homes. You’ll see it in their faces as they watch you pass by, they’re just as eager to have a new lease on life as you are. You’ll see how unconditional love can really be.”
“What’s with the sudden want of me getting a dog?” I ask her. We could have done this any other day.
“It’s your Christmas present, from your brother.” James was in Santa Monica. Dessie didn’t want to tell me what happened between them, but I knew they were avoiding each other. They didn’t want me to worry, so they told me nothing.
“How is he?”
“Like you don’t know.” I talk to James about every other day. We’ve been getting really close again, just like when we were kids. Occasionally, he’ll throw in how Mathew is doing or what he is doing.
“I haven’t talked to him in a few days.”
“He’s fine. He’s enjoying Santa Monica. Your dad has him scouting potential places to live in.” As much as I hated to admit it, we were trust fund kids.
Now that I’ve been to hell and back, I knew what I wanted to do with my life, and where I wanted to go.
Photography was my life goal, Mathew is the love of my life, and I feel the need to spread awareness about mental illness.
If I had been more educated about it, about depression and about how one should and shouldn’t feel, maybe I wouldn't have gone years without a diagnosis. My mind tortured me for years, and I let it get in the way of me living life. That wasn’t going to happen anymore.
The volunteer left me alone so I could see which dog I liked, he went to go get some papers for me. Almost every dog waited eagerly by the fence of their small home to be touched. I didn’t know the first thing about owning a dog, so I was afraid of making a mistake.
As I got to the end of the shelter, I noticed a big dog. A Buddy look alike, you know the golden retriever from Air Bud. He was at the end of his little home, far away from me. He looked like he had just given up on life. He didn’t even look in my direction.
I looked at the name tag where it had his name and bits of information about him. His name is Bear. Bear had a long history with abuse, and he had been at this no kill shelter for a few months, he is only two years old, my eyes teared about up at the thought of someone hurting this beautiful animal.