Behavioral Crisis Center: An Excerpt

As promised, here is an excerpt from my first manuscript of my 1st experience in the Behavioral Crisis Center.  Please note, all of this is truth.  It is a pretty scary place.
I was then taken not to the E.R. area like last time but beyond it to an area I knew nothing about… The Behavioral Crisis Center.  The sign above the monitored doors were metallic and nice looking but they hid the blank depressive state that lied beyond the doors.  Buzzed in, Jimmy and I followed the nurse. 
I was then shown to a room.  The walls were as neutral as possible with no decorative trim.  The only object in the room was a twin size bed centered on the floor.  The bed had a slight appearance of hovering.  The mattress was topped with blue vinyl.  No headboard, no foot-board.  The only decor to the bed were metal hooks for the sole purpose of strapping you down.  No sheets or pillows were provided to me.
The security guard left his bullet-proof glass cube and entered my room.  He dropped a plastic bag on my bed.  A nurse followed with a stark white with blue design hospital gown and blue pants, size XL.  The guard then proceeded to tell me to go into the bathroom and change putting all my clothes and belongings in the bag.
I entered the bathroom and was somewhat shocked at what I saw. For one, the guard stood outside the door, there were no locks. The second thing I noticed was the lack of glass mirror so those like myself would not break it and try to slash our wrists. The mirror was made of metal and you would need a strong Philips head screwdriver to attempt to take it off the wall. I guess I should be happy there was still a toilet and not just a  hole in the floor. In one corner was a shower stall with no curtain. Once again, the room was as neutral as possible.
I don’t know why they couldn’t add color. A burst of orange here, a splash of green there. No, just beige and plenty of it. In fact the only color I noticed was the blue vinyl that adorned the beds.
After I changed, I knocked on the door and the guard opened it, took the bag and made sure I went back to my room where Jimmy was sitting. I was unsure of what was going to come next. The bed still bare, I laid down and attempted to rest as anxiety still riddled my body. I started to shiver, not from nerves, but from the cold temperature in the room. When the nurse came back she informed me that I would be talking with a psychiatrist and a social worker that evening to see what exactly they would do with me. I felt as if I were in limbo. I kept praying they would come soon. I was desperate for help, hopeless, worthless, empty.

I asked the nurse if I could have a blanket as I was freezing. My teeth were chattering. She smiled and replied yes and that she would bring me two. She returned with the blankets and asked if I were hungry. I nodded and replied, “A little.” She said she would return with a tray of food and to eat as much as I could which in the end didn’t amount to much.
As I lay there, Jimmy and I listened to the other patients. The woman next to me kept getting yelled at by the guard because she was leaving her room. She whined incessantly to use the phone to call her young son as he was going to bed soon. Over and over, “Please, please let me use the phone. I promise I’ll be quick.” The guard told her no, the phone was off use to patients unless it was for setting up plans for picking up. Within the next five minutes she left her room, the guard yelled and she pleaded once again for the phone. This cycle repeated over and over almost the whole night.”

Not scary enough yet… It gets worse.  You’ll just have to read my book when it is published.  Maybe I will post another except at a later date.

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