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March 2, 2006
*An excerpt from my manuscript*
The morning started out cold and dewy. I was forced to wake up earlier than I was used to, and the sky was still dark and the night still covered the earth like a blanket. I had not been able to get myself to eat in days, for every time I tried to, it would make me physically ill. I had never felt more lost and alone than I did that day as I took a shower and fixed my hair. Something compelled me to kneel down and pray, for I thought that talking to some entity higher than myself could help me to figure out what to do. Actually, I already knew what I was going to do, but I needed something to help me through it. I never cried, just stayed pretty stoic about the whole thing. What else was I supposed to do?
I didn’t ride the highway alone. My car was the quietest that it had ever been. I don’t think anyone knew what to say to me, or how to lighten the mood. This was probably for the best. The parking lot was mostly empty and when I entered the building, they told me that I couldn’t drink my Gatorade, or anything for that matter. I went through the motions of doctors, psychologists, and paperwork. Whenever you do something like this, they always ask a million times “are you sure?” Every time, my answer never changed from a very emotionless, firm and unwavering “yes, I am.”
They finally called me in after about 7 hours of waiting. I would have rather been anywhere but there. They gave me a Valium, for I guess they figured that anyone in my position would be nervous. I wasn’t nervous, but some emotion that I had never experienced before. A bunch of women were in the room they took me too, but I was the only girl. I fiddled with my gown for a while as I stared at the T.V. One by one the women were called back and helped to their respective rooms by nurses. I was one of the last to be called back. Finally, they called my name, which they had to call a few times for the Valium was kicking in and I didn’t realize. My head was saying “I don’t want to do this” but my mouth wouldn’t utter the words.
They took me to a very white room. To this day, all white rooms freak me out because of this experience. The bed was at the end of the room, and they helped me to lay down on it. As they stuck me with needles in various different veins, something hit me that this wasn’t just a nightmare that I thought I had been living for the past month. This was real. I could feel my cheeks becoming wet and I realized that I was crying. The nurses stopped what they were doing to look at me.
“What’s wrong?” one of them asked me.
“I don’t know. This makes me so sad. Jesus, this is so fucking sad!” was all I could seem to get out.
“Think about happy places and things....anything that makes you happy,” The other nurse said smiling at me.
I kept thinking that I could get up and leave at any time, tell them they could keep my money, but I didn’t want to go through with this. Those words never left my lips, for as much as I hated it I knew it had to be done. My life was a complete mess and this would have only added to things. I kept crying uncontrollably, while one of the nurses stroked my hair and kept saying “shhh” like you would to a crying baby. A man came in and told me that I may or may not fall asleep, for the medicine affected everyone differently. However, he assured me that even if I didn’t fall asleep, I wouldn’t feel a thing. One of the nurses told me to think happy thoughts again as she injected me with something that made me drowsy.
I fell asleep thinking of all the things that could have been, but never would be. When I finally awoke, I was sitting in a big chair in another room. I have no idea how I got there. There was a sprite and a bag of pretzels next to me. They mentioned that I was hard to wake up afterwards. I kept going in and out of consciousness, but somehow stumbled into the bathroom alone. I realized that I was soaked in blood, and it was gone.