Sensitivity warning

Psychosis & hospitalization depicted. This story may affect readers with experience of psychosis, bipolar and/or schizophrenia.

There is hope.

I looked at the clock and watched the time tick away and wondered if I’d ever get out of here. I hoped I would. I was stuck in a hospital hearing the sound of twelve people booming in my ear. I didn’t know what was wrong with me or why I was there, I just wanted to go back to university and finish my degree. I opened my notebook and started writing in my journal but was soon interrupted by a nurse’s voice. She told me someone was here to see me. I wondered who it could be. I shut my notebook and rose to my feet. I walked into a room with white walls and a table in the middle of the room. Sitting in a chair at the table was my mother. She looked very concerned for me and had tears in her eyes.

There is hope.

Tears formed in my eyes the second I saw her and I knew everything was going to be okay. I’ll admit I was so terrified to be alone in this hospital with people I didn’t know but my mom was always there for me. She never left my side. I sat in a chair across from her and let the tears fall down my freckled face. She looked into my green eyes.

“You need to take your medication. It’ll help you.”

She said to me, I shook my head no I couldn’t. I was afraid to take it.

“I can’t.” I replied as I wiped a tear away.

“If you want to go back to school you have to try.” She explained.

All I wanted was to go back to school so I could finally graduate college. I was a senior this year and I had worked so hard to get here. I just wanted to go back to my old life, but I just couldn’t take the medication. I got up from my chair and stormed out of the room. I left my mother behind. I went to my room and cried.

There is hope.

The next day the nurse gave me my medication. I didn’t want to take it but when I did it dissolved in my mouth very quickly. I didn’t understand how it could possibly help me. All I knew was that there were people talking to me in my head and it was extremely hard to focus on anything. I just wanted to hear the beautiful gift of silence again.

A few days passed and I noticed there weren’t twelve people in my head anymore but there were only three. Could my mom have been right all along? Was this medication I was so afraid to take helping me?

There is hope.

More days passed and I was beginning to realize that there weren’t people in my head talking to me but rather there were only three voices talking to me now. They were still tough to deal with but nothing like the twelve I’d heard just days before. There was one day in particular when a nurse came into my room and had a bag of my clothes. She simply smiled and looked at me.

“It’s time to go home.”

She handed me the bag of clothes.

“Home?” I said as I got out of bed and followed her. A smile crossed my face when I saw my mom standing by the exit door.

There is hope.

“Home!” I said with excitement as I started to cry.

I reached out and gave my mom a big hug. I didn’t know what I’d do without her. We walked out the doors of the hospital and as I felt the cool air hit my face. I didn’t realize that I’d go back to my university and graduate college one day.

I didn’t realize that I’d get better. But there was always a slither of hope inside of me because my mom stuck by my side in my darkest times.

There is always hope.