Chapter 26
On Friday morning, Kelly was awakened at 7:00 am and given her medication. Her appointment with the psychiatrist was at 9:00. After pushing her breakfast around aimlessly on her plate, Kelly decided to take a shower. Embarrassed over having to be so closely monitored, Kelly allowed herself to be led by a nurse to the shower, and the nurse positioned herself outside the door. Kelly stood there under the hot spray for a long time, allowing her mind to wander along its own path. Then she took the soap and lathered herself from head to toe, rinsing and washing over and over until the water began to cool. After stepping out of the shower, Kelly slipped on a road with no sash and followed the nurse back to her room. Sometime during the night, Mike had brought a bag of clothing to the hospital. Kelly slipped on some jeans and a yellow t-shirt and stretched out on the bed. Within minutes she was asleep.
“Mrs. Bowling, you need to wake up,” a voice called, gently shaking Kelly awake. “It’s time for your meeting with the psychiatrist. It’s 9:00.”
Kelly roused herself and sat up, rolling her shoulders and rubbing her eyes. She silently followed the nurse down the hall to Dr. Redding’s office.
Dr. Redding rose to shake Kelly’s hand when she entered his office. Though Kelly was still overwhelmed and depressed, there was something about Dr. Redding that put her at ease somewhat. Perhaps it was his office, she thought. The office was large and looked more like a living room than anything else. There were two plaid couches arranged in an “L” shape, along with two comfortable-looking green chairs and a coffee table. There was also an entertainment center with a stereo and a television. Music was playing softly. Dr. Redding’s desk, rather than being large and imposing, was small and simple, something that could be found in a home office. There was a computer on one side and an untidy pile of papers on the other.
Dr. Redding himself was a gentle looking man with salt and pepper hair that barely curled at the nape of his neck. His eyes were large and brown, and his eyebrows were bushy. He smiled easily, and Kelly felt as if he was someone who was trustworthy.
“Have a seat, Kelly, and let’s talk about what has been going on lately.” He led Kelly to one of the green chairs, and he sat in the other one. “I was sorry to hear that you had to be brought to the hospital because you wanted to commit suicide. Why do you want to kill yourself?”
Kelly was taken off guard by his directness. Dr. Redding seemed to notice, and he smiled. “I am not one to mince words, Kelly. I hope my directness didn’t startle you too much. But I honestly want to know why you think killing yourself will solve a problem.”
“Well,” Kelly began, “I don’t know exactly. I’ve really done some things to hurt people. I just don’t know if things will ever be the same. I – I just couldn’t live with all this.” Kelly didn’t know what else to say, so she looked at her hands as she twisted them in her lap.
“Kelly, I know a little about you story. After you were brought up last night, I went downstairs – I worked late last night – and talked with your husband.”
Kelly felt her face grow warm. Dr. Redding knew about her affair and all the other mistakes she had made. She wondered what he must think of her. “Oh,” she said softly.
Dr. Redding hesitated for a moment, and then he touched her hand gently. “Kelly, I have talked with all sorts of people, people who have made mistakes, lots of them. People who have made terrible choices and regretted them deeply. Nothing you have done will shock me or cause me to judge you. Can you understand that?”
“I guess so,” Kelly responded. She knew she sounded like a shy child, but she couldn’t let herself feel. It was still too painful.
Dr. Redding sat back. “Kelly, one thing I am concerned about is your medication. Your family doctor did an excellent job in diagnosing you so accurately. Unfortunately, medications for bipolar disorder can be very complicated. I would like to adjust your medication, try to find a combination that works for you.” He paused again before continuing. “And Kelly, I would like to admit you to a short term facility.”
Kelly felt sick. He wanted to send her to a mental hospital. She would be branded for life as someone who was crazy. She thought about her family, about her friends, about her job. “Why? Why do I need to go to one of those places?” She pleaded. “I can’t miss that much work. I know that it will ruin my reputation if I go to some…some mental hospital.”
“Kelly, this is not a mental hospital. It is a crisis intervention facility for short term care. It’s called Covenant Crisis Center. It is one of two centers in the area. Your husband mentioned that you are both Christians, as I am, so I thought a Christian facility would be best. I would like to have you admitted today if possible. You really don’t need to be in this hospital any longer than necessary.”
Kelly wanted to protest. As she thought about it, however, she knew she couldn’t just go back to her life. There was too much pain, and she was already on the edge. If she went home and tried to live normally, she probably would just end up back in the hospital again. So, after thinking for a few moments, Kelly nodded. “OK, I think you’re right, doctor.”
Your husband and I talked about this last night, and he was hoping that you would be willing to go to the center. Would you like to call him before we get you packed up?”
Kelly’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t. I can’t talk to him. I have hurt him so much…” she began to cry softly.
“It’s your decision, Kelly. You do what you feel most comfortable with.” Dr. Redding walked across his office and opened the door. “Nancy, Kelly is going to get packed up, and then we’ll have someone from Covenant come and pick her up.” He turned toward Kelly again. “I do rounds at the center, so I will continue to talk with you while you are there. This really is the best option, Kelly. They will be able to monitor you meds and your moods around the clock. And you will have individual and group therapy each day.”
Kelly’s heart began to pound at the thought of sharing her pain and terrible choices with strangers, but she put it out of her mind. She didn’t have to share any more than she wanted to share. And sitting there in Dr. Redding’s office, she knew she didn’t want to share much. She stood and thanked Dr. Redding.
A little over an hour later, Kelly and an aide from Covenant Crisis Center were pulling into the facility’s driveway. It looked more like a large home than a hospital, Kelly thought. The brick was painted white, and there were four large columns along the front of the building. There were several eaves and a turret running up the left side, ending in a beautiful gazebo. The center looked to be about 100 years old. More than likely it had been a house before it became a crisis center. The lawn was green, and grand old trees dotted the yard. In front of the house, there were flowers of every color. Monkey grass lined the long sidewalk, and hanging plants lined the porch. Kelly couldn’t help but reach up and touch a flower as they ascended the steps.
“Good morning,” a stout, pleasant woman called as Kelly and the aide entered. She motioned them to the window at which she was working and asked Kelly the standard questions about next of kin, reason for being there, insurance information, and several other details. After the interview was done, a kind-looking nurse with long red hair appeared and took Kelly back to the commons area.
Like Dr. Redding’s office, this area looked more like a large living room than a waiting room. There were groups of couches and chairs, tables to eat or play games at, and a big screen television strategically placed in the corner of a room. There were several cameras in the ceiling, the only indicator that the room wasn’t just a pleasant place to relax. There was a nurses’ station at the back, but it sat unobtrusively behind two large fichus trees. It was lunchtime, and several tables had been set up with box lunches from a local deli. The nurse explained that once a week local restaurants donated lunch to the center.
After choosing a turkey sandwich, Kelly sat down at one
of the empty tables. Though she wasn’t usually shy, Kelly was apprehensive at the thought of sitting with a stranger. What if they asked why she was there? Before long, however, Kelly was joined by a girl who looked to be in her twenties. She was painfully thin, and her wrists were bandaged.
“Hi, my name’s Rachel,” the girl said, smiling. She unwrapped a veggie sandwich.
“I’m Kelly Bowling,” Kelly said. Rachel shook her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Kelly. You must be new.”
“Yes,” Kelly said cautiously, afraid they were headed for dangerous territory. “I got here this morning.”
“Don’t worry,” Rachel said. “You don’t have to tell me why you’re here. Nobody has to share unless they want to share.”
“I have bipolar disorder,” Kelly said. She wondered why she said it; she didn’t even know this girl.
“I have borderline personality disorder. I’m here because of these,” Rachel held up her bandaged wrists. “Luckily, I’m getting better.”
Kelly and Rachel exchanged small talk for a few short minutes, and then they ate in silence. Kelly’s mind was racing, anticipating with dread the group therapy that would take place that afternoon.
Rachel finished her lunch, placed her leftovers in the box, and stood up to throw away her garbage. Before she walked away, she paused and looked at Kelly. “Don’t worry, Kelly. This isn’t like the movies. People here get better, and then they go home.”
At 2:00 Kelly walked back into the commons room where several patients were already seated in a circle. Kelly took her place and tried not to look at anyone. She didn’t want to be asked any questions, and she didn’t plan on sharing. She wasn’t sure how much of her pain she was willing to share, so it seemed safer to keep all of it to herself for now. She carefully surveyed the group without making eye contact. Rachel was there, chatting with another girl who looked as if she was the same age. There were two middle aged men who sat silently, one of them looking out the window and the other looking at the hands that were folded in his lap. There was also a woman who was probably in her fifties. She was very well-dressed and was sitting in a composed and ladylike fashion. Only the dark circles under her eyes betrayed the pain she was in.
Kelly didn’t pay much attention during that first session. Her mind was elsewhere, obsessed with her own pain and wondering what Mike was doing, how the kids were doing, how she would ever have peace. She did manage to introduce herself, but while the others shared, Kelly allowed her mind to wander. Rachel had to tap her on the shoulder when the therapy session was over.
The next morning, Kelly had another session with Dr. Redding. As she walked in and sat down, Dr. Redding said, “I heard you were pretty quiet at the group therapy session yesterday.”
Kelly felt a little defensive. “It was the first day. I didn’t know what to say.”
“It’s perfectly normal. Most people don’t say a lot the first few days. They have to get used to everyone and get comfortable. Most people are actually pretty aloof for the first week.” He paused for a moment and then handed Kelly a small notebook. “While you are getting comfortable talking, I’d like you to do some writing, keep a journal.”
Kelly had kept a diary for years, but it had been a long time. She took the notebook and flipped idly through the empty pages.
“Journaling will be good for you while you aren’t settled enough to speak out during groups, or even during our sessions.” Then Dr. Redding sat back. “We really didn’t talk much yesterday. I’d like to hear about the last year or so of your life. You can hit the high points or be specific. Just give me a framework for where you’ve been.”
Kelly looked out the window, wondering where to start. “Well,” she began, “I know that you know I had an affair. That was in the spring.”
“Yes, but let’s go farther back. What was going on this time last fall?”
Kelly thought for a minute. “Last fall wasn’t so great. Mike and I weren’t really getting along.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, I guess we were both pretty much wrapped up in our own little worlds. I was working from home and doing all of the home stuff, and Mike was busy with his business. We didn’t really see each other very much.”
“And when you did see each other?”
“It wasn’t always rosy, that’s for sure. We had problems.”
“It’s okay, Kelly. You can say anything you want however you want in here. You don’t have to sugar coat it.”
And then Kelly began pouring out her frustrations over Mike’s distance, her attraction to Andrew, her suspicions that Mike was having an affair, and her own affair. She was surprised at herself – it had taken her so long to open up to someone, and here she was telling someone she barely knew all or her secrets. Well, maybe not all, but quite a few.
“These are the kinds of things I want in your journal. Think over them, react to them. Your journal is a collection of your thoughts and feelings. Rant if you need to rant. Cry if you need to cry. Just get these emotions on paper.” He looked at his watch. “I have another patient in a few minutes, but I would like to pray before you leave.”
As Dr. Redding prayed, Kelly felt the tiniest surge of emotion coming to the surface. It was the first time she had allowed herself to feel since her trip to the emergency room. She suppressed the feelings, however, afraid she would begin to weep. She just wasn’t ready to do that yet.
For the next few days Kelly wrote in her journal each night. Her thoughts and emotions flowed more and more freely with each passing day – on paper. Kelly still couldn’t bring herself to open up during the group sessions. She could tell that the other group members and the nurse were beginning to wonder if she was ever going to share, but they didn’t press her. They seemed to know that she needed more time, that she was afraid to face all of that emotion.
A week after Kelly’s admittance, however, she awoke from a dream crying. She sat up, trying to get her bearings. Where was she; what had she been dreaming? Then the flood of realization and memories hit her full force, and she began weeping uncontrollably. Before long, a night nurse came into her room.
“What’s wrong Kelly? Do you need something? Are you ill?”
Kelly couldn’t answer, she was crying so desperately. Finally the nurse sat down on the bed and placed her arm around Kelly. She began to pray.
“Lord Jesus, I know that Kelly is in pain right now, but I thank you for finally allowing her to express her emotions. I know that keeping them inside has been hurting her terribly. Please let her know that we are here for her, and, more importantly, you are here for her. Wrap her in your love and security, and give us wisdom as to how best to help her. In your precious name, amen.”
Kelly knew when she woke up the next morning that she would be sharing in group that day. She was at peace with herself and with God. It would be painful, but she felt safe sharing her pain with others now. When 2:00 arrived, Kelly was one of the first to arrive. Before long, the chairs were filled and the nurse began the meeting.
“Would anyone like to begin sharing?”
“I would,” Kelly said softly. Then she hesitated.
“It’s okay, Kelly,” Rachel took Kelly’s hand. “There’s no judgment here.”
“I am here because I had a plan to kill myself, and my husband took me to the emergency room. I have had a hard few months, and most of it is my own fault.” Kelly took a deep breath. “Last spring, I had an affair.” She paused, waiting for sounds of shock or looks of disgust, but they didn’t come. “I became too close to a coworker, and we became involved. It lasted about a month, and then he ended it.”
The nurse took Kelly’s other hand, and then Kelly’s story came pouring out. The distance between she and Mike, the sickness, the mania, the affair, the miscarriage. Kelly talked for half an hour, and no one stopped her. By the time she was silent, Kelly was completely exhausted.
But she felt cleaner somehow, like the burden wasn’t hers alone. She closed her eyes and sat back in her chair.
After a few seconds, Kelly felt a hand on her shoulder, then one on her back, then another on her shoulder. Before long hands were covering her back, and the group began to pray, their voices mingling together. Again Kelly wept, but this time it was with gratitude as well as sorrow. She was not alone.
For the next several days, Kelly continued to journal, to talk freely with Dr. Redding, and to participate in group sessions. On Thursday, almost two weeks after her admittance, Dr. Redding looked at Kelly and smiled.
“Kelly, you have made a lot of progress the past week. You seem more open and at peace, and the meds seem to be working.”
“I think so too,” Kelly agreed. “The medicine still makes me a little sick, but the nurse said that would get better over time.”
“Yes it will.” Dr. Redding moved to the other side of his desk and sat down beside Kelly. “You know what I think? I think you are ready to go home.”
Kelly sat for a minute while the doctor’s words sank in; then she let out a whoop that could probably have been heard all the way down the hall. She hugged Dr. Redding. “Thank you so much. I want to see my family so badly.”
“Well, I have already called Mike.” Dr. Redding patted Kelly’s hand. “He’s ready to come whenever you are ready to leave.”
“Tell him to come right now,” Kelly said. She jumped off the couch and walked toward the door. Before she left, she walked back and gave Dr. Redding one last hug. “Thank you for everything, Dr. Redding.”
An hour later, Kelly was sitting in the commons area with her bag. The members of her group sat and chatted with her, excited that Kelly was going home. She hugged each of them and thanked them for her prayers. Then someone cleared his throat and pointed to the doorway. Mike was standing there with his keys in his hand. Kelly looked at him, and tears began rolling down her face. She picked up her bag and walked to him, then put down her bag and embraced him. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and his tears dampened her hair. Finally, they tore themselves away from each other. Mike picked up the bag, kissed Kelly lightly, and said, “Let’s go home.”