I was sitting in a hallway since I wasn’t fully admitted but I had to sign myself in. I was surrounded by other people talking to themselves or making weird noises. It was a long white hallway, with white walls, white linoleum floors and bright fluorescent lights. I was sitting in the hallway of purgatory and I didn’t even know it. I don’t remember how my Mom found out I was in the mental hospital but she came later in the morning to drop off cigarettes and try to get me out. The only problem was there was no getting out until you saw the head psychiatrist and I was behind a lot of people waiting to see him. At least she came, I mean that shows she cares right? I felt like I was trapped in a cage. The only places I had access to was the white hallway or the concrete square where people were permitted to smoke. It was literally a concrete square, from the walls with tiny slats for air to allow some sort of airflow, to the concrete ceiling and floors. It was like a prison within a prison. Even the seating was made of concrete. Concrete benches were attached around every side. Even though it was pretty glum, it beat being in the white hallway with nowhere to sit except the dirty floors among those talking to themselves.
All I had to keep me occupied where my cigarettes and my thoughts. How did I end up in this place? I was supposed to start school in a month. Would I even be there for the start of the semester? Was all this hard work for nothing? No it couldn’t be, I worked my ass off to get into a good school when I didn’t even graduate high school. I did things I didn’t want to do so I could pay for community college to get to this point and nobody was going to take that away from me. I filled out all those student loan applications, got my dorm assignment and was registered into the Ecology program. I wasn’t going to let this hold me back. So I sat in the concrete prison and contemplated my life, what I had been through, what I had lost and gained and what I had in front of me. When I was finally called to see the head psychiatrist, who determined if you were released to go or you got a one way ticket to check in, I knew I had to be calm and cool. I looked past all the other people in the place and observed them. I knew if I remained rational and could convince this doctor I wasn’t suicidal, which I wasn’t, I would gain my freedom.
When I was released from the hospital about eight hours later, my Mom was there to pick me up. She took me back to her and Jerry’s place which was 45 minutes north. We both smoked cigarettes on the car ride back to her place and I explained what really happened. She was actually not upset. She loved Thomas though, so I know she wouldn’t harbor any ill feelings toward him for this. I looked out the window of the car and lost myself in thought. What would happen next? Would Thomas and I be ok? Did it matter anyway? In four weeks I was starting a new journey in my life, one that was going to make an impact on the rest of my life. What I didn’t know then was how different life was going to be and that the decision to attend FIU would change my life forever. When we finally reached our destination all I could think about then was taking a long nap.
Misguided Mommy 