Page 63 of Scarred in Silence
How could I have been so blind?
25
Astra
16 Years Old
My parents found me cutting my legs today. I sit in a wheelchair as they push me to the psych ward. I have been here a couple of times. Mainly for my behavior, but this time they are putting me on suicide watch.
They scan their badge, and the doors open methodically. The smell of antibacterial wipes stings my nostrils. They push me into the dreaded unit and stop by the intake room. They put the stoppers on the wheelchair, as if I’m going to hurl myself out of it.
I stand and follow the nurse into the room.
“We are going to have to perform a search to make sure you don’t have anything harmful on you, okay?”
I nod. I know the procedure too well.
I undress into a gown and then she searches me. I feel numb to it at this point.
She hands me a pair of paper-like pants and a shirt, instructing me to change into them, as well as a pair of non-slip socks.
I slip into my clothes, and she escorts me into the ward.
“You have a roommate, her name is Elliana,” she says kindly, showing me to my room.
I step inside, and a girl around my age sits in her bed.
“Hi,” I say quietly.
“Hi, I’m Elliana.”
I take a seat on the bed and put my back against the wall.
“Why are you here?”
“I have a personality disorder. My foster parents didn’t know what to do with me anymore.”
I nod, understanding that feeling.
“And you?” She asks.
“Cutting myself. Not to kill myself. To feel some pain.”
She nods, staring down at her sheet that sits balled up in her lap.
“My parents also don’t know what to do with me. They keep comparing me to my sister.”
“I know the feeling. It gets better. Just ignore them. Do what you want. It’s your life,” she says, encouraging me. I knew I wasn’t the problem. I’m my own person.
“How long have you been in here?” I ask.
“Forty-two days.”
My heart aches for her.
“Are you feeling better?”
“Yes. I’m learning how to control my alters.”
