When a young person enters an inpatient program for mental health, we rarely hear what it’s really like for them. In this essay, Etta, 17, bravely shares her personal story. It was originally published on 10/31/22.
A year ago today, I found myself in the emergency room.
As I sat in between my Mom and Dad at 10 o’clock on a Tuesday night with tears in my eyes, I felt relief.
After sleeping in a cot in the ER with my mom by my side the whole night, I was finally admitted into the inpatient adolescent behavioral health unit.
I was put into light blue scrubs and sent into a room full of teenagers. I stayed there for eight days. No phone, no knowledge of the outside world.
I looked forward to when I could call home and catch up with my sister and a few friends and when I could I would weep to my mom about how much I wanted to come home.
After a while, I digested why I was there and why I needed to be there. I felt guilt and sadness for putting my parents through hell.
After eight days, I finally was discharged and went outside for the first time. I saw my phone, I saw my bed and my dog.
From that day forward, I spent my weeks in partial hospitalization learning skills and strategies to help me with my anxiety and depression. I learned what exacerbated my thoughts and feelings. I eventually found myself back at school and was trying my best to make up for all that I had missed.
After a while, I digested what I went through. I hurt myself in order to figure out how badly I wanted to feel better.
The most beautiful part of struggling is knowing that there are other people who are also struggling. I found people just like me through therapy and getting help. People, children who felt the way I did. I gained empathy for those who struggled and especially those who were silent. I felt compassion for people with who I had no connection. Why did it take me so long to realize others felt that way?
I learned more about myself, and I continue to learn and work on bettering myself.
The message of this whole thing is to have empathy and compassion. My words might not be important to you, but I hope in some way that they will strike you.
School is difficult, living can oftentimes feel treacherous.
However, we have others and if we do not treat our peers, family, colleagues, and community with kindness and compassion, then how do we better ourselves and live happily?
I’m writing this as a form of expression and decided to share it in order to encourage empathy for those around us.
In Real Life is an essay series from CATCH in which people tell their stories in hopes others will find comfort in their experiences. Learn more.
