Her (31 page)

Read Her Online

Authors: Felicia Johnson

BOOK: Her
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“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Do you ever feel like you’re not yourself? Like, when you get these wild ideas in your head, does it feel like someone else is putting those thoughts in there? Maybe an influence, like a voice, or maybe you see other people whom others cannot see?”

Mr. Sharp suddenly appeared. He was just itching to come out. Up to now, I had been able to keep him locked inside, but Dr. Pelchat was pushing his buttons. I didn’t want to end up in the BCR again. I tried to hold back.

I answered, “I don’t know what you mean by wild ideas. I do think that things can happen, and will happen, if I make certain choices. Maybe feeling like the world is ending when I feel empty is a little wild, but-”

“How about this,” he asked. “How about I put it in a different way? Answer this as honestly as you can. If your mom comes over to you, and she starts hugging you and smiling, and giving you gifts because she says that you are doing an amazing job in school by making good grades, attending all of your classes, and doing all those things, how do you take that behavior?”

I said, “I’d think that she was proud of me and that she was happy.”

“Okay,” he said. “Now how about if, the next day, after she was hugging you and smiling, and giving you all of those gifts, she just storms over to you and starts yelling at you, and she tells you that she needs you to help out more around the house, like cleaning your room, helping with chores, and trying to put more effort into the upkeep of your home than you do at school? How would you take that behavior?”

“Honestly, I’d probably cut,” I admitted.

“Why do you feel that you have to punish yourself?”

 

“It’s like it’s too much. I don’t understand how she can be happy with me one day and then just be mad at me the next because I didn’t clean the kitchen. I’d think that she didn’t care about the good job I did in school. All she would care about is how I didn’t clean the kitchen or do a good job in the house. It wouldn’t even matter anymore that I did well in school. She’d just want to be mad at me and punish me.”

Dr. Pelchat didn’t say a word. The look on his face was genuinely sincere with concern. He scribbled in my chart. As he did, I began to wonder if I had done the right thing by answering honestly.

Dr. Pelchat looked up when he was finished writing, and he said, “You will be taking the test this week. I’m writing an order to have this done no later than Wednesday, and I’m writing an order for you to see a physician about your stitches.”

My heart began to race. “Why did you ask me all of those questions?”

“Like I said, it will help me determine what kind of psychological test I need to administer. It also helps with me with your diagnosis.”

“What’s my diagnosis?”

“I’m not going to mark it officially until after you take the test,” he said.

“Do you have any idea?”

“Kristen,” he said.

“Please, Dr. Pelchat,” I begged. “As hard as it was for me, I sat here and I was completely honest with you, and I answered your questions. Could you please tell me something?”

He looked at me with sincere eyes. He opened my chart back up and scanned through his notes. “I’m not making this official,” he said. “You have symptoms of what is called Borderline Personality Disorder.”

I sat back in my chair. “A personality disorder?” I asked. “You mean, like I split into different personalities like Chris and Jake? What do you mean?”

“No,” he said. “Not like that. It’s Borderline. It means that a person with BPD is suffering from a split in their personality that borders them on psychosis and neurosis. Do you understand?”

 

I shook my head.

“On the borderline of psychosis and neurosis. Psychosis is an impaired state of mind. There are the delusions, the twisted perceptions, and personality changes that you have displayed here. And then there’s neurosis, which is a mental imbalance that can cause you to be stressed, and it often causes depression, but it does not prevent you from making rash decisions and functioning normally in everyday life.”

“So, I’m just a confused person?” I was certainly confused now. “That doesn’t make any sense, Dr. Pelchat. It has to be one or the other.”

He looked worried. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I apologize, Kristen. This is not your official diagnosis. But now that I’ve told you about this disorder, and just in case, I feel that you should educate yourself.”

He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a thick, paperback book. He placed the book in my hands. The cover of the book was black and white. There was a picture of a woman on the front cover. She was staring into a mirror. The mirror was split in two. One side of the mirror the woman was smiling and wearing all black and on the other side of the mirror, she was wearing all white, and she was frowning. It reminded me of a yin-yang symbol, and the comedy and tragedy theatrical sign.

He said, “Read this book. It may not be the best book on the subject, but it will give you a better understanding of Borderline Personality Disorder. When you read it, please do not take everything in it personally. It doesn’t all pertain to every BPD sufferer. It’s more of a general textbook on the disorder. I would like for you to read it to gain some understanding of BPD.”

I took the book and tried not to look scared. I didn’t want to have Borderline Personality Disorder. I wanted to go home. Scared, I stood up when Dr. Pelchat stood up.

He said to me, “I’m going to speak with you and your mother tomorrow during your session.”

“It’s going to be a family session?” This didn’t comfort me at all.

 

Dr. Pelchat said, “It’s not going to be a family session. You probably won’t have one of those until you are ready to leave Bent Creek. We are just going to touch basis with your mom on your progress and let her know about the testing. It will be all right.”

I nodded, trusting him.

“Come on. I’ll take you back to the unit. Please read that book when you get a chance.”

I knew I should have trusted Dr. Pelchat, but the thoughts in my mind were racing. I could just picture how this meeting was going to go with Mom, Dr. Pelchat, and me. I could see Mom angry and fighting to remain calm while Dr. Pelchat told her what was going on. Then, when she had her chance, she’d pounce on me with her harsh words and anger, and blame me for causing all of this trouble. I was useless. She told me what she needed and expected of me, and I seemed only to make things worse.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 33

 

 

 

That night, after our group meeting with Ms. Mosley, we all sat around and waited for Geoffrey to tell us it was time to go to bed. I was sitting on the sofa with the book that Dr. Pelchat had given me. Nervousness prevented me from opening it. I just kept looking at the cover and reading the back of the book over and over again.

Everyone who had to take medication had lined up at the nurse’s station and were waiting for their pills. Janine was in line, and she was standing behind Mena and in front of Daniel. I noticed Daniel staring at her. His eyes were low, and he hung back like he was checking her out. I sat the book down on the occasional table near the sofa. Then I got up, walked over to Janine, and touched her shoulder. She looked at me and smiled. Daniel smiled at me as if he was happy to see me.

“Do you have to take nighttime medication?” Janine asked.

“It was boring, sitting over there by myself,” I told them.

Daniel laughed. He said, “Yeah, we need a game system in here, like an Xbox…or
something
.”

I laughed, and stumbled back. Stumbling caused a chain reaction. I bumped into Janine, and Janine accidentally bumped into Mena. Janine jumped back and scooted next to Daniel, which made it look, from Mena’s point of view, like I had hit her. When she turned around, she saw me standing there.

“I apologize, Mena,” I said to her.

She moved in close to me and stung me with her eyes. She got so close that I thought she was going to hit me.

Mena said, “It’s not business. It’s personal.”

“What?” I asked.

“Mena Suarez!” the nurse called out to her.

Mena turned to the nurse and realized just then that it was her turn to get her medicine. The nurse placed the cup of water and the small cup with the medicine in it on the table.

“It’s time for your medicine,” the nurse said in a sweet voice.

Mena gulped down the medicine. When the nurse was finished checking her mouth, Mena turned around and brushed past us without saying a word. She went straight to the Girls' Unit. Janine looked at me and shook her head as she walked up to the nurse to receive her medicine. I looked at Daniel, who was chuckling to himself.

He said, “That girl is crazy. I thought Tai was messed up. Looks like Tai has met her match.”

I kept an eye on Janine. She was sorting out her medication with the nurse. I used that opportunity to talk with Daniel.

I said, “Are you feeling okay?”

He stopped chuckling and his smile disappeared. He nodded and looked away from me.

I smiled and said, “Okay.”

The nurse called Daniel up to the counter. I moved out of his way, and, as he stepped up, Janine walked up to me and said, “Come on, let’s go to the room. They are going to tell us to go to bed soon anyway.”

I grabbed the book off the table and caught up with Janine. As we walked off to the Girls' Unit, I looked back at Daniel. He swallowed his pills without the water, and the nurse checked his mouth. When he was finished, he stepped out of line. Janine and I were about to go through the doors to the Girls' Unit when Daniel looked over at us. I knew I wouldn’t see Daniel for the rest of the night. Yet, I didn’t want to let him go without knowing that he was okay for sure. When he looked at me, our eyes locked. I gave him a warm smile. He took a deep breath, making his chest rise fast.  Then, as he exhaled, he let it slowly fall. Before I followed Janine out of the room, I saw him return a smile to me.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 34

 

 

 

During visiting hours the next day, there was a lot of talk about Rocky. Everyone seemed to have different versions of Rocky’s suicide attempt. They made up stories of how it happened, and what the counselors had been doing while he had hurt himself. The truth was, no one really knew exactly what had happened, and how it had happened, except Dr. Pelchat, because it was his job to know.

Daniel was in counseling with his mother and Dr. Finch. A lot of the parents who were visiting seemed to be upset and concerned over Rocky and about their kids’ safety. My mother in particular was very upset.

Dr. Pelchat led us to his office, which was across from Dr. Cuvo’s old office. Mom and I sat down in the chairs that faced Dr. Pelchat’s desk. He didn’t bother to open my chart as he normally did, but he seemed to want to get right down to business. Mom was determined, too.

Mom began, “What is going on around here? Is it true that a child committed suicide? How are we supposed to trust our children in your care if you don’t have people working here that can prevent these things from happening?”

Dr. Pelchat sat back in his chair. He didn’t look upset or bothered. He crossed his left leg over his right and leaned back with his chin up and his right hand rubbing his stubble.

“I understand your concern. Please let me assure you that Kristen, as well as the other patients here, are in the best care of our counselors, nurses, and doctors. What happened to the patient the other night was an unforeseen event. My counselors were on task and keeping watch. You must understand that there are thirty-eight beds in total on the Adolescent Ward. More than half of those beds are filled right now. We don’t keep eyes on them when they are in their beds, asleep, every single minute. We do night checks, and we keep watch at night. The patients in the Adolescent Ward are responsible enough, once admitted to their rooms and are moved from Level One, to be trusted on their own at night. Unfortunately, the patient that was hurt was an exception. If it serves as comfort to you, the young man is not dead. The staff that was on duty that night was able to get him medical attention before his condition worsened.”

My mother looked at me, and then coldly turned to Dr. Pelchat. “How can I be assured that Kristen will not be in any danger of trying to commit suicide again?”

“Mom,” I pleaded.

“That’s up to Kristen,” Dr. Pelchat said. He looked at me. “Kristen makes her own choices, just like Rocky did. We will, however, move her back to Level One, take away her privileges, and that limits her freedom on the ward, if we feel that she is in danger or in need of that extra attention. But Kristen seems to be progressing fine. I don’t think that we have anything to worry about.” He smiled at me slightly.

I turned to my mother and sighed. Mom kept her eyes on Dr. Pelchat. She seemed satisfied to hear his assurance.

She said, “So, what happened to Dr. Cuvo? I thought that he was Kristen's doctor.”

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