A bit of peace

Waking up the way I did, I would swear I was in hell if I believed in such a place. Everyone was so....standoffish or even mean. I was shocked that the adults I encountered, while I was waiting for transportation to some unbeknownst to me location, were even vicious. When I was being cleaned up after I regained consciousness, the nurse helping me did not talk to me and was scrubbing my arms so roughly. I begged for pain medicine and she ignored me. By the time transport arrived for my big trip I was so happy I did not even ask where I was going! I could not feel an inch of my body and it felt as if there were ice cubes behind my eyes. I do not remember my mother being there. Not that I blame her, she had other children to tend to and I was such a problem, however that small little lost girl buried deep within was just begging for someone....anyone to care.

I was sent to the children's psychiatric ward of the local hospital. Everything was a blur, but one warning stuck out as they confiscated my shoe laces and put bands on my ankles (my wrists were to lacerated for a band to be secured safely). The gentleman I met who introduced himself as Scott* brusquely told me in a no nonsense tone if I attempted "....anything out of line, you will be put in isolation, sedated and restrained. Period. We are not going beg and cajole you to behave." 

WOW. Where the hell am I??? 

I was then placed on what was called sight and sound. I basically had to stay within sight and touch distance of a staff member at ALL times (and I mean ALL). That first night I slept on a pallet in a hallway barely able to move because every movement brought excruciating pain. To this day I will never forget the pain I was in. My arms were bandaged from wrist to elbow and I still had not had a good enough look to see the damage, however with the amount of blood and plasma I was seeing through the bandages and my inability to move at the wrist was scaring me. 

As I lie there so many thoughts raced through my mind. How was my family? Did anyone care? Did anyone miss me? Did my daddy know, oh gosh was he gonna kill me. How could I do this to myself? How did I get carried away? I think that if I had not spoken up and let Scott know how I was feeling I would never have slept that first night. He called the nurse, who called the doctor and gave me something that knocked me out. For that I was grateful. Here I found a bit of peace. Not love or acceptance or even a bit of forgiveness but peace.

So for that first night a stranger gave me a bit of peace in the form of a pill. Not my mother with a hug, or my family with a call. But a stranger, a shadow of compassion; the first I had seen. 

*Name has been changed for privacy reasons.