I walked into the building with a stuffed animal in one hand and a suitcase in the other. My fiance walked in with me, not saying anything. I walk up to the front desk and tell them my name. The women at the desk don’t look all that interested, except for one who tells me to have a seat, that someone will be with me shortly. I don’t know what to expect, so I sit around waiting nervously. I talk to my fiance here and there, and then a woman walks out from the back area behind the desk, “Ashley?” She asks.

“Yes?” I stand up with all my things in hand.

“Oh, you can leave those there for now, I just need you to follow me so that we can get all of your paperwork ready.”

“O-okay.” I was very nervous. I wanted to go back home already. She leads me to a room and closes the door. We go over some paperwork and I follow her back out to the main area.

“Okay, we’re all done setting you up. You can head back with me and I’ll show you your room.”

“Can my fiance come with us?”

“No, unfortunately this is as far as he can come.”

Sadness ran all over me. This is it. I had to leave him now. I didn’t know how long it would be since I could see him again. I was so scared and nervous. I tried not to cry and held it in. We hugged for a while and said goodbye to each other. Then, he watched me as I walked away into the unknown.

--

The first day was interesting. I met with a doctor and met my roommate - a pregnant woman. I also got everything taken away from me. I couldn’t even keep my stuffed animal. They took my games and they took my suitcase. They apparently wanted to make sure I didn’t bring anything dangerous to the facility. Worst of all, I got my phone taken away. Now, it’s not that I can’t be without my phone - I can - it’s just that this was the only way to communicate with my fiance. Before they could take the phone away, I was able to write my fiance’s number and my home phone number on a piece of paper. That way, I could use the public phone in the facility. The staff also took the sweater I had on and cut the strings off of it. They took anything, shoes, clothes, and other items and cut anything that could be a potential threat to anyone. If you could kill yourself with it, they wanted it gone. They also took your toothbrush, soaps, deodorants, anything and everything! It amazed me just how careful they were with making sure that the people attending the facility did not get hurt in any way.

I didn’t know what else to do, so I started a 1000 piece puzzle. When I started, a patient came in. He stood over the table I was working, watching me. “Hey.” He said.

“Hey.” I said, smiling slightly.

“Can I help you with this? I’m really bored.”

“Sure.”

At first, we worked quietly, but then he started talking to me. Honestly, I didn’t want to talk to him, I was still new and everything was weird. He started telling me about his life and why he was in the facility. “...I can stop talking to you if you want…” I guess he noticed how uncomfortable I was.

“No, it’s okay.” I noticed how sad he looked and decided to give him a chance. We tried the puzzle some more, deciding to do the edges first. But then he suddenly walked away. I was a little sad about not having a partner anymore and the puzzle was honestly boring me, so I decided to clean up.

The first night was hard to sleep. It was cold. Everyone knew each other except for me. I was also the only one in the wing without a drug problem. Apparently, the only available wing was the dual-diagnosis wing. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, so I just stayed in my room.

The second day I was woken up by a woman; a staff member. She said I needed to meet with the doctor and my social worker. When I got into the office, the doctor asked me a few questions and made sure I got my medicine in order. She scheduled me for a few blood tests and that was it. I then met with my social worker who was one of the nicest people I had met there so far. Wow was she pleasant. She asked me how I was doing and what was wrong with me. She filled out a questionnaire and told me not to worry about it, it was just a paper she was filling out describing my symptoms. Later I would find that she and my doctors decided on a diagnosis that they didn’t notify me of, but we’ll leave that part for later.

The third day, I was woken up again. This time the sun was barely up. The staff member took me to “the gates”, the doors I referred to that locked all of us in this wing of the facility. She swiped her card. What would it take for me to get her card and get out of here? I was honestly wanting to go home. The only thing I’ve done in this facility was sleep. I called my fiance on the community phone. I told him that it was okay for him to not come for visiting because it was going to be too late after he got out of work. Hours later, most of the patient's parents and significant others came. I was so sad. So, I called my fiance again and told him I actually did want him to come and you know what he said? He said, “Yeah, I was going to come anyway.” This guy always makes me so happy and knows what I actually want. It was the first time seeing him in three days so I was excited, I thought I had to go through the whole process alone.

The Fourth day, I started making friends. I talked to the girls and they decided to give each other makeovers. At nighttime we would all sit in the lounge area and watch TV. It was nice. I started to enjoy my days there and I got familiar with all the patients, learning about their history and why they were there. The oldest woman in the facility was like a mother figure to all patients. She was so nice and would give us advice whenever we needed it. She supported us and we supported her; it felt like we were all a family.

One day I felt like going to an AA meeting; everyone else was going so I decided to go too. I knew nothing of their rules or procedures so I just watched while everyone read a card and told their story. As the meeting went on, one of the speakers said something that stuck with me: “If you’re comfortable in a place like this, then you have a serious problem.” Sure, at first I was uncomfortable because I didn’t know what was going on or what I was doing, but then I got very comfortable and the people there were so nice I didn’t want to leave them. Halfway through my stay I felt so safe and comfortable in the facility that I didn’t really care if I got to go back home. The only reason I would go back is to be with my fiance. I hadn’t felt that good in so long that I didn’t want to trade it for the “real world”, I just wanted to be in my world, where I knew I wouldn’t hurt myself. Where I could get three meals a day. Where people were nice and encouraging. Where I didn’t have to feel like I’m competing with so many people to be “successful”. Honestly, the thought of being free from the facility made me a bit anxious because it meant having to go back to my boring, depressed, and anxiety-filled life.

The rest of the days were nice, I made good friends, I ate good meals, I had snacks, I could sleep as much as I wanted, and nothing was stressful. Sometimes when I think back on the time I spent there, I miss it. I miss feeling good and safe. But of course, I couldn’t stay there forever. After a week, I was released from the facility. It was nice, being out, but at the same time scary, because I didn’t know what to expect. The social worker called a cab for me and I left the facility, back out into the “real world”.