Why I Was A Psychiatry Inpatient Service At The Boston Children 's Hospital

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It hits you like a freight train, or at least it did for me. I was thirteen when I stopped looking forward to things, and I swear it happened over night; like California in the summer, when everything seems okay and then you blink and it is all up in flames. I was thirteen years old when I came to terms with the fact that I no longer wanted to live.
Fast forward two years: Bader 5 is a psychiatry inpatient service at the Boston Children’s Hospital and it was where I was checked into late August 2014. Originally, I was going to the hospital for a checkup on my headaches, but when my mother pointed out to the doctor what I had been struggling with mentally, I was taken to the emergency room for suicide watch. I sat in the emergency room for over two hours with Marcos, a tall man who spoke broken English, whose only job was to make sure I would not strangle myself with the bed sheets. My mother was signing paper work, getting food and calling my father for a majority of those two hours. By the time she came back, it looked like she had aged ten years.
Another hour passed, my dad arrived. We all sat in the emergency room together, and Marcos took post in the hallway. Eventually, a doctor showed up, along with a police officer, and my family and I were led up to Bader 5. We met with Steve, the man who ran Bader 5 and he had eyes so blue they looked white. My parents were given more paper work, stating that they signed me over to Bader 5 and if they wanted me to come home, they

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