Thousand years...of Pain.

Life, as a teenager...these were my thoughts...of how I saw life.
Below is a section of an experience I had as a youth. I thought I would share a small part from one of my chapters that I have often reflected on.

Here is a song that ties in to how I felt
 and still stirs emotions from decades ago.

I was admitted to a mental hospital at the age of 18 1/2
with a broken heart from a teenage love.

This song peels away the scar that has never disappeared from my soul.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q9ayN39xmsI&feature=youtu.be

Chapter 37 Mom's Wonderful Trick

Paul and Chad entered my thoughts while I sat on a firm bed. I knew, this time, they would not be able to comfort me like they had when I had Guillain-Barré Syndrome. I wondered what classes Paul was taking, whom he walked with as he moved from one class to the next. Who did he sit with when he ate dinner, lunch and breakfast. Curious if he thought of me as he went out on Friday and Saturday night. My lowest moment as I felt my head droop was, has he already met someone new. Here at this hospital there would be no Paul, no Chad, no phone, no pictures, and no possessions of mine on the nightstand. I had circled back to the familiar displacement I had experienced over and over with my past foster home visits. But, in this unusual abandonment by Paul, Chad, and now my parents, sorrow pierced my soul. Rejection was just one of the negative words that seemed to linger in my head. I was not just physically alone, I was mentally alone.

The sound of footsteps became more potent with each second. A different nurse in bright orange scrubs and long brown hair stood at the doorway.

“Elizabeth, it’s time for dinner. Could you come with me?”

I felt eerie as I followed her. I didn’t pay attention to the directions to the cafeteria. When I entered, it seemed lifeless, even though it was full of strange people. Tears formed in my eyes, and I felt frightened. I did not have a desire to step farther into the room, but I knew I had to go through the line to receive food. A young man about twenty stood behind the counter and served. I stared at his white and blue football jersey with BYU across the upper back. I froze with no desire to move, unsure of how to cope with the fact he attended the same university Paul had escaped to when he abandoned me. I shook my leg and forced myself to walk over to one of the round tables. I sat by myself and began to sob. I tried to hold back the tears, but they continued to pour out, making a pool of water on my tray. I pulled the upper part of my shirt collar to wipe the tears. I turned my head and told myself I wouldn’t look over at that young man again. I took several deep breaths, rubbed my eyes. My face felt hot and my heart turned cold from the anguish of wanting Paul, needing Paul. I closed my eyes and pictured Paul with me, his warmth breath on my neck and his lips against mine.

A lady at the next table had marks on her face. She constantly picked at her facial sores that dripped blood on her hands. I ate quickly and made a break for the exit.

I ran out into the hallway and rested against the wall, trying to remember the way back to my room. It was a blur and finally a nurse helped me. When I entered my room I rested my head on a stiff white pillow that I covered with tears. I laid on top of the covers with no desire to use them. Emptiness stirred the room, filled my heart. I talked to the moon that showed its face in the window, a moon I hoped would relay a message to Paul that I loved him, a moon I hoped he was talking to also. I was mesmerized by the stars that dressed the sky, stars that danced freely. I wished at that moment I had the freedom to love Paul. Before I drifted off to sleep, I made a wish on the star that seemed brighter than any other. And hoped Paul was wishing on that same star for us to be together. I wished that Paul still loved me.

I awoke to a bleak speck of sun early that morning. I felt gross and rolled out of bed to use the restroom. With each stroke of the toothbrush against my teeth, I begged for someone to rescue me. I brushed my hair with the bargain-basement style brushes they had provided. I splashed water on my face to remove the tears that I had the night before. I closed the bathroom door and leisurely walk back and sat on the bed. I waited for what seemed hours for the nurse to appear. I stared at the doorway that led out to an empty hallway. I shook my leg and wondered what new dreadful surprises awaited me. I felt an urge to pray. I closed my eyes, bowed my head and folded my arms. Words welled through my lips.

Heavenly Father, please help me cope. Please, Heavenly Father, give me strength to pull through this. I’m trapped in a well and unable to pull myself out. Lower a rope to pull me up. Please let the doctors see I’m not suicidal. Know Heavenly Father that my mother is the one that thought I was suicidal, not me. Never would I destroy something you had created.

 Peace entered my heart when I ended my prayer. It was at peace of knowing I would leave this place soon. I tried to pull the bitterness towards my mother out of me, but the anger that stirred with each moment that passed made it hard to do.

I heard footsteps coming and took one look around the room. When I looked back at the door the nurse was standing at the door and smiling.

“You are moving to another room and will have a roommate. Follow me.”

I knew, once I walked out the door, I would never enter that room again, because they would realize I wasn’t suicidal. I followed the nurse down a narrow hallway that went to the cafeteria. I smelled the food as we passed by the entrance to the dining hall. My stomach felt empty and my heart did too.

  I believed, I would have loved Paul and Chad for a thousand years, and I believed they would have loved me for a thousand more.