Stolen Innocence (24 page)

Tomorrow I start at the hospital. I am really nervous. I hope I don't feel out of place or anything. This weekend while in Minnesota, Allie and me spent the night at Catilin's apartment while mom and dad stayed in a hotel. I met her roommates and another girl who had been in a behavioral hospital before. She filled me in on what it was like, making me feel a little more at ease about tomorrow. Then Caitlin decides we all need to watch “Girl Interrupted.” The whole movie is filmed in a mental hospital with a bunch of crazy people. I guess it was my way of preparing myself. I will write about the first day tomorrow.

I pulled up in the parking lot of the hospital and parked my car. I sat in the car debating whether to go inside. It was a beautiful sunny day as I finally stepped out into the sunlight and headed for the hospital doors. I walked in and up to the reception desk and was told to take a seat on the couch and someone would be with me shortly. I focus my attention on the television, which has the “Today Show” on. Suddenly I hear my name being called. I look to see an older man standing there. I walk towards him and he introduces himself to me and shows me towards the electronic locked doors that are operated by the front desk. I am walked into the cafeteria and told to take a seat at the booth. I notice his nametag that read Bill. He begins explaining all the paper work I must fill out. He tells me he'll be back later to check in on me. After he walked away I skim through all the paper work he has just given me. For the next hour I sit filling out questions, surveys, medical history, and had to sign a bunch of documents. Bill soon returns and sits down with me. He begins reading through my information. I begin to feel really uncomfortable when he begins mentioning I was sexually abused. I've never been one to talk to men about my past. I grow tense hoping the questions will soon end. After two hours of paper work and questions Bill gives me my schedule for the week. He then shows me where my first group will begin. I begin the day with stress management group. I listen in as therapists explain ways of managing stress. We were given a worksheet to fill out on preparing for an upcoming stressful situation. I identified Thanksgiving where I'll see Brian. I then had to plan out my safety, security, physical health and well being. It asked how you'd cope with overwhelmed feelings. I feel I will take some deep breaths and step out of the room if necessary. At noon it was time for lunch. The therapist asked someone to buddy up with me and show me around the cafeteria. We all were handed a ticket and walked down a few halls. I stood in line holding my tray and once I got to the counter asked for chicken and a bowl of soup. For hospital food it wasn't bad. I sat in a booth as other woman asked me why I was in the hospital. I told them a little about my past and they were supportive. I looked around the cafeteria at the different people around me. At one table sat a group of really skinny teenagers whom I assumed were dealing with eating disorders. Behind them was a group of teenage boys and girls who had piercing and dyed hair. I later learned they were the co-dependency group. I stare at the expressions on faces and can see the pain in their eyes. So many are hurting like me. Outside people sit at tables and eat their lunch while being monitored.

After lunch I learned about assertiveness. Learning how to make “I feel” and “I want” statements. We then talked about aggressive, passive, and passive-aggressive behavior. I see myself being very passive, but that is where my problem is. I'm avoiding the conflict of my past. Looking for the easy way out. I'd rather focus my energy on someone else then take a good hard look in the mirror at myself. The last group of the day was expressive therapy and it was my favorite. I took a seat at the table along with everyone else. The room was filled with all kinds of art supplies and games. There was a window that let the sun shine in from the outside. The expressive therapist was a skinny Korean woman who was very supportive. She handed out thick white pieces of paper to everyone. She placed watercolor paint on the desks and asked us to paint anything we wanted and told us we'd talk about our paintings at the end of the hour. I sat holding the paintbrush starring outside at the sky. Big, fluffy, white clouds came and went reminding me of cotton candy as a kid. I finally decided to paint butterflies and write positive, uplifting words to motivate myself. The butterflies represent when I was younger when the abuse was going on. I watched a movie called “Radio Flyer” and in my head created my own fantasy of being able to create my own Radio Flyer and escape the abuse I was being faced with. Remembering “Radio Flyer” was like being able to pretend to escape my abuse. I even had my own place I imagined in my head where I would take my Radio Flyer to make my final escape. A very quiet and peaceful place where no one would find me. Nothing but trees, green grass, and the sunset. After finishing the paintings we took turns talking about them just before it was time to leave. The first day was finally over. I walked out into the parking lot to my car. I had survived my first day in the hospital and just wanted to go home and sleep. I will do the same thing tomorrow. Get up and start a new day.

It is day two at the hospital. I went to goals and processing group in the morning. I don't want to be here anymore. I don't belong. I am surrounded by a bunch of people who are miserable. One lady constantly rocks back and forth. Another lady cries for no apparent reason. There is even one woman who talks about killing herself every two minutes. I just don't feel this is right for me, but Mrs. Ardell warned me it would be hard at first. I promised her that I would not give up so instead I am just going to focus on myself. I just want to find the happiness that has been gone for so many years. I talked to my case manager today and began crying. I told her how I just want to live a normal life and not live in my past. She gave me a worksheet where I fill in my own relaxation place that I create. She wants me to use it in stressful situations when I am feeling overwhelmed. After coming home from the hospital, all I want to do is go to bed.

I started my day like every other day with goals and processing group. My process issue was learning to forgive. I'm sick of living with so much anger and hate. I just can't imagine myself ever finding the courage to forgive Brian. He took so much from me. I then went to victim/survivor group. I wrote down victim/survivor statements. My survivor statement was, “I am a survivor and I can accomplish anything.” Soon it was lunch and I had pasta with a roll. At lunch I sat with the same women I sit with every day, but a man who was twenty joined us after learning that he had to find healthy new friendships. I suggested trying Willow Creek Church. I told him what a great church it was. After lunch I went to expressive therapy. We played charades. The expressive therapist began by acting them out. We eventually started doing our own. I'd motion with my hands I was doing a movie. I then began acting out the movie “Girl Interrupted.” When the group finally figured it out the therapist began laughing. I went on to do “Twenty-Eight Days,” “One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest,” and “What About Bob.” Everyone got a good laugh out of it. I ended my day at the hospital talking about boundaries, learning to set up boundaries. Boundaries help to create safety. I'm learning to set up boundaries for myself. I need to get some rest now. I have the Chicago marathon this Sunday.

It's Friday night and I've completed one week at the hospital. We worked on weekend planning and skills group today. Learning different skills to work with in our daily lives. I also had expressive therapy in the gym. The expressive therapist had us lie on mats and listen to a deep relaxation tape. It put all my worries aside. I'm now trying to prepare myself for the Chicago marathon this Sunday. Twenty-six miles in all. By Sunday night I will have accomplished more then I could ever imagine.

It has been an amazing day. Although my muscles and body ache as I write this, I've never felt more proud in my life. Standing on the streets of Chicago with forty thousand other people waiting for the race to start. The city is so big and it was a perfect day for a marathon. The weather was great. The sky was blue and the sun was shining bright. When the race started I looked around at the media, people holding signs, and even young children cheering everyone on. Having the encouragement from the sidewalks kept me moving. At mile marker two a boy around nine years old said, “You're almost there.” I found it very funny and so did the people around me. I met up with two women named Pat and Jean at the beginning of the race and stuck with them the entire twenty-six miles. I had split up from our marathon team, so when I met up with Jean and Pat, it was nice to talk to someone throughout the race. They kept me from quitting. At times we would be so exhausted that we would sing. One of the songs we would sing was “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” We would eventually run out of air from singing and all start giggling. I felt so proud of myself after every mile completed. Printed on some buildings was a sign that said, “Some people won't even drive 26 miles today.” There were signs like this everywhere. It was so amazing to see all the different people that came out to cheer the runners and walkers on. From the little kids to the old senior citizens. There were even homeless people standing and watching. I passed areas where people made there own drums and other music out of pots and pans. We would pass the different water and Gatorade stations as people cheered us on. Our shoes would stick to the pavement from the spilled Gatorade. The tall sky scrapers were like huge walls and each one I passed was like another wall I knocked down in my life. Each mile was like a different stage of my life. It was like walking down the journey of my past. After all, what brought me to volunteer at the Advocacy Center to begin with was my past. What kept me going and made me cross the finish line was what I was doing it all for. I had raised over seven hundred dollars for children who had been abused. It was for these children and the child I once was that I finished the race today. My inner child didn't give up on me. The last mile was the hardest. I never thought I'd see the finish line. Just when I was ready to give up, I turned the corner and could see the finish line in the distance. When I crossed it, a medal was placed around my neck and my picture was taken. Finishing the Chicago marathon has given me strength and made me a stronger person. The only difference between the first person that crossed hours earlier and when I crossed was they were walking home two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollars richer. In my eyes money doesn't buy happiness. So I was proud of the fact I finished. Now I am facing the aftermath of barely being able to walk, and my feet are covered in blisters. No matter what, I don't regret a thing. I would do it again tomorrow! Ok, maybe not tomorrow, but I would do it again. When I got home from this evening, mom was crying and had flowers and gifts for me. She hugged me and told me how proud she was of me. I am very tired and am going to bed early. Night!

It is Tuesday night. It was my last day at the hospital today. I am supposed to finish the week off, but I feel I got what I needed out of the hospital. I need to get back to school. Although I was extremely sore Monday after the marathon, I still went to the hospital. The patients and staff were all congratulating me. Yesterday I ended the day with expressive therapy and drew a picture of a very bright sunset. It brought peace to me and made me feel good inside. I talked to my psychiatrist yesterday and told her I felt that I got what I needed out of the hospital. The idea was for me to come twice a week, but I told her I want to be done completely.

Usually you have to step down in the program, but my psychiatrist agreed with me and said, “If that is what I want to do then she'll sign the paper work.” Since today was my last day I did a lot of talking in process group. I also helped a woman in the group and the therapist later told me I did an awesome job in group therapy. By now I know everyone really well. While in the gym we started doing different body motions pretending to be someone. Very similar to the movie “Girl Interrupted.” I was trying to hold back from laughing because I found it very funny. The funniest part was to see how serious and intense the expressive therapist was. You could tell she puts a lot of effort into her job. I had to leave and go to the bathroom at one point I was laughing so hard. I thought this only happened in movies, not in real life. I think I would go insane if I was upstairs in lock down. I'd have no freedom then. When the day was done everyone wished me good luck and I wished everyone good luck in their future. I told them I enjoyed the time over the week and a half I spent with them. My case manager wished me good luck in the future. She gave me some paper work to sign and gave me some information to keep. I looked over what she gave me before leaving. I read that the main focus of my treatment was stabilizing the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Today for one last time I left the hospital and walked out into the parking lot and for the first time proud of my progress.

I returned to school today and everyone was asking me where I was this past week. I lied to many people and told them I was on vacation. How do you tell someone you were in a lock-down mental hospital? They would look at me as if I were crazy. Well, they already think I'm crazy so it wouldn't matter. Mental health has a bad enough stigma to begin with. I ran into Mrs. Ardell before school even started and she was shocked to see me. She wasn't expecting to see me until the following week. I also talked to Dr. Stern for the first time since I was placed in the hospital. I filled her in on how everything went. I got a load of homework I need to make up. I also have tests to make up to. I hate being behind. I'll write more when I get time.