It’s weird having Savara gone and at lunchtime you feel her absence when it’s just you, Chad, and Starling clustered at one corner of a table.
A new patient comes in and she sits by herself at the end of your table. You know without a doubt that if Savara were here, she would invite the girl over to eat with the group. You can tell she’s lonely and scared, and she looks about your age, but you just haven’t got it in you to invite her to sit with you. Later, you’re going to feel guilty about ignoring the girl, but you’re a bundle of nervous energy about the big meeting you have after lunch with Reynolds and Winthrop and you’re in no mood to make small talk with a new person.
“Why’re you so quiet?” Chad finally asks, between bites of ravioli.
Weird how after only four days he can tell how you’re feeling.
“I’m nervous about my assessment meeting this afternoon,” you admit.
“If they let you out, I’m gonna die in here!” Starling says dramatically.
“Shut up,” Chad says. “That’s not cool.”
Starling lowers her head and pokes at her ravioli.
Chad turns his attention back to you. “They’ll probably let you out. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I threw that huge fit on Wednesday,” you remind him.
“But God, it was warranted, it was because of Malik,” he says.
“Please!” Starling moans. “Don’t bring up Malik!”
The new girl at the end of the table looks at the three of you.
One of the staffers walks over to your table to check in.
“Everything’s fine, Rick,” Chad says. “We’re just sad about Malik.” He nods in Starling’s direction.
Rick nods and walks away.
Chad leans in to you and you search his green eyes, sensing he’s going to say something very important. He does.
“Listen. If they ask you if you’re having those thoughts anymore, tell them you’re not. Tell them they’re gone. Even if you still have them.”
You hold his gaze and there’s something deep and dark in his eyes, something that makes you believe he knows what he’s talking about.
“Even if you think about it for a split second ever, don’t tell them.” He comes closer to you and you feel his warm breath as he whispers in your ear. “If you do, they’ll keep you here. I promise you that.”
You pull back and get your focus, clear your head, and wonder if you’re really having those kinds of thoughts anymore because you don’t think you are. But you’re not sure.
Chad picks up his spork, takes another bite of his ravioli, which has to be cold by now, and mouths one last word to you, but it’s still very clear, although no one else hears it: “Lie.”
54
They’re waiting for you in Dr. Winthrop’s mahogany office—your parents, Dr. Winthrop, Ms. Reynolds, Horrible Janet the nurse, and Damian. You mouth to Damian, What are you doing here? and he whispers back, “Day shift, today and tomorrow.” You’re glad he’s here even though everyone looks as if they’re conducting an intervention on your life, sitting in big leather chairs. You feel like you should plant yourself right smack in the middle of the floor, front and center, and let them fire away at you.
Then you see Shayna and you feel a glimmer of hope spark in the center of your soul. If there’s any chance of you getting out of here, it’s Shayna. She, of all people, knows you’re not crazy. She knows you’re not suicidal. Shayna knows you only have an eating disorder. You’re sure she’ll get you out.
You take a seat between your mom and dad, the spot that you think is the safest in the room, and Dr. Winthrop begins with introductions. Then she dives right in and addresses you directly.
“We’re all here because we care about your well-being, and we think you’re in danger of harming yourself. High risk. That’s why you’re here,” she says.
You stare at her.
“Have you realized that’s the reason you’ve been brought inpatient?”
“I’m not going to kill myself. I didn’t attempt suicide either.”
Ms. Reynolds and Dr. Winthrop exchange glances.
“I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing here. This is my fourth day. Can’t I go home? Please? I’m being really good.”
Ms. Reynolds jots something down and then asks, “Are you going to continue to cope with harmful behavior? Our goal is for you to stop hurting yourself.”
You can’t argue that you didn’t “hurt” yourself because you did do damage to yourself, although it didn’t hurt. “You’re right. I did hurt myself. I admit that. It was stupid of me to mess around with safety pins. But that was all it was. There’s no way I could have killed myself with safety pins. Really! And no. I’m not going to do that anymore.”
You look at your parents and say, “Mom, Dad, I promise. I’m not going to do anything stupid like that anymore. Ever, ever again.”
Shayna speaks. “She’s working very hard in therapy through Healthy Foundations, and she’s on target with other girls in her group in terms of participation and determination.”
Thank you, Shayna.
Again, Ms. Reynolds jots something down.
Damian says, “From everything I’ve seen while on duty, she’s an exemplary patient.”
Thank you, Damian.
Dr. Winthrop turns her attention to Janet. “And how is she doing with her medication?”
“Well, she was on Zoloft but she stopped taking it before she was admitted,” Janet replies.
Everyone looks from Janet to you.
“I stopped taking my pills about four weeks ago. I told Janet that,” you say. You want to be as agreeable as possible so they’ll let you go home.
“I’ve called her primary doctor and left two messages, which have not been returned. I need to confirm with him how many milligrams before we put her back on Zoloft,” Janet says.
Dr. Winthrop addresses your parents: “Do you think your daughter needs to be on an antidepressant and were you aware she stopped taking her meds?”
Your mom speaks. “I recently found out she stopped taking her pills, but I thought you put her back on Zoloft once she was admitted. She was on one hundred milligrams and seemed to be doing well on that. I thought so anyway. Lately, she’s been so unhappy.”
“Well, yes,” Dr. Winthrop says. “The cutting could have been because she went off her meds.” She writes something down and then looks at Janet. “You should have told me immediately that you couldn’t get in touch with her primary. I can prescribe her one hundred milligrams of Zoloft. She should have started the medication the day she arrived.”
You’re hoping the next thing she says will be that she’ll let you go home with your parents after she writes you up a new prescription.
But that’s not what Dr. Winthrop says.