It took two days between Rory agreeing to go to Caritas for "voluntary hospitalization" (how it can be voluntary but her only other option was involuntary hospitalization was still a bit beyond her). At first she was informed that she would have to be taken to the new facility by ambulance- in the care of a licensed professional for the hand off, but ultimately Chris made some calls, flexed his name and ultimately with Honor agreeing to go with Rory, they were allowed around that requirement- after signing away any potential liability if Rory injured herself or anyone else between the hospital and the facility.
And Caritas was lovely- truly idyllic, more like an inn her mom would run. It was a large victorian-style manor with bedrooms for 30 people (the doors opened either way- you could be locked in, but staff could not be locked out). The grounds surrounding it were beautifully kept- apparently there was some kind of labyrinth in the back, designed by some world-renowned labyrinth designer to help people become centered and find real peace. That kind of made Rory roll her eyes, but she had promised to give the place a try and she she understood that everyone needed different things- if someone found peace and enlightenment and was able to move on after personal trauma after getting lost in a hedge maze, Rory would never judge that person- if she thought getting lost in hedge maze would help at all, she would happily enter and just keep an eye out for a minotaur.
It was somewhat upsetting when they checked her in- they patted her down, made her pull out the lining of her jeans pockets to show they were empty (well, they were empty once she emptied the dirty tissues that fell out as she did so); then they made her take off her shoes to check them, and she had to leave all jewelry with her mom. Then Chris and Lorelai were told to sit and write out a list of people Rory was allowed to speak to on the phone- she was allowed 45 minutes of phone calls each day, but she was not allowed to dial herself- she could tell a member of the staff who she wanted to contact and if that person was on the list, they would dial for her and sit there, listening to her conversation (but don't worry, on her end only).
There were visiting hours every day, but only for a two hour period until she had earned more privileges. And again, only the people that were on a list written out by Chris and Lorelai- it was far too much power for two people to have over a 22 year old woman's life. On the one hand, she understood how much she needed help and that this was all part of a tried and true method to give her the help she needed- she genuinely wanted to get better. But on the other hand, she chafed against this much stricture and control over her life- she hadn't had anyone monitoring her comings and goings, her phone calls or even her friends since she was… well, probably not since she was 12!
Eventually she had to say goodbye to Chris, Lorelai and Honor. Logan had returned to California yesterday for work- a very important investor's meeting, the one that would hopefully allow for him to be able to work from Hartford/New York for the next few months at least. She already missed him so much- he had been so omnipresent for the last few months that without his smirk, his shoulder to lean on, she just felt like something was missing- but she was the one who made him go, so it wasn't time to dwell on that, it was time for her to be shown her room and settle in before her first group therapy session, then there was freetime, dinner and art therapy to follow.
"Well, Hon, I think it will help you to know that Sookie checked this place out and apparently it has a chef who is a friend of a friend, the food is supposed to actually be pretty damn good. And the horses- they have horses! They say it's therapy, but it looks to me like you just get to spend the morning with them, grooming them and riding them and bonding with them… I think this place will be good for you, Sweets." And because she knew Rory almost as well as she knew herself she added, "Don't worry, if this doesn't work, we'll think of something else, just give it a shot, ok? That's all we're asking." And with that Rory nodded, tears in her eyes and hugged her mother, pulling her tight.
"You promise you'll come visit me every single day?"
"And call every night, I swear." She pulled away from the hug and pushed back a lock of Rory's hair from her face- once again noticing just how pale and thin her beautiful daughter had become this summer. "So, I've got Luke, Logan, Lane, Honor- obviously, oh- and Sookie is on the ok to contact list. Your dad also made me add your grandparents- although I still haven't figured out how to explain to them where you are…" Rory's expression changed to one of sheer panic, "Don't worry- I haven't said anything to them about this- I promise. And I have no Friday night dinners coming up, so I think you're safe, kay Kid?" She just nodded, hoping she could trust her mom with this- she just didn't think she'd be able to handle it if her grandparents learned any of the specifics of this summer.
"I also put Paris on the list, but I swear I can have her taken off if you want… oh, and Finn and Colin, mostly because I don't seem to be able to say Finn without adding Colin, and Finn is a sexy Aussie and figured if you're having a really bad day, his accent alone just might cheer you up, ok?" Rory smiled and nodded at that one, she doubted she'd face a scenario in which Finn or Colin were the people she wanted to speak with, but it was kind of nice knowing she had the option. Then she noticed her mom's weird smile, she had done something strange…
"Mom, did you put Paul Anka on the list?" She burst into a full smile and laughed.
"Ok, fine, I did… but in all fairness, that also means you can call the man Paul Anka, right? I mean, maybe you just are lying in bed and feel a need for some crooning and you go to the desk attendant and you're like, 'hey- Paul Anka, I need some crooning!"
"But Mom, they'll call the number you listed, which I'm assuming is the house and not a special number for your dog? Because that honestly crosses the line to truly irresponsible- you know that right?"
"I love you, Kid, I'll see you tomorrow!" She waved and stepped away from her daughter so she could spend a moment with her father.
Chris walked up then and pulled her into a tight hug.
"We love you, Ror, we're going to visit every day and you can call anytime, I swear- if they give you any grief over it, remind them I'm a Hayden and you're a Gilmore and we're paying cash, ok?" She nodded as she pulled him back in for another hug. "Now I'm on the list, Gigi is on the list- not sure you'll ever feel the need to check in with a 5 year old, but it's an option if you'd like to discuss Dora or Sesame Street, ok? Now, just in case there is ever a problem getting in touch with me, my mother is on the list- I understand you'll want to make her your last choice, but it's there if you feel the need to go nuclear. I've also put plenty of money on your account for snacks and things like that, good news is they swear they have coffee available 24/7 so you should survive, ok?"
"Dad, thank you so much. I know that I haven't been the easiest this summer…" He just pulled her to him again, squeezing tightly.
"Dad, you have been more than any girl could ever expect in these circumstances. Thank you so much for everything. I love you so much. Give Gigi a kiss from me, ok?"
"Will do Kiddo." And then she was being moved from the foyer of the house up the stairs to her room for at least the next 7 days- she was practically a genius, there had to be a way for her to beat the system and get better and out of here sooner than expected, right?
The first night was fine- she met the other women within her group, each of them there for some kind of personal trauma such as sexual assault, domestic violence… or PTSD for other reasons that had led them self-harm. She met with a counselor who had all the details of her attack and made her recount the, as they called it, "self-harm attempt". She was put into an art therapy group that could only make her think of Paris' Craft Corner in the dorm Freshman year as she learned exactly what macrame was and then some kind of sculpting exercise that honestly frustrated her more than helped anything.
Her roommate was out on a two day pass so she wouldn't meet her just yet- meaning Rory was a bit bored, she had unpacked the suitcase her mom had packed for her and she still had an hour of personal time before lights out. She sat on her bed, reminding her of her dorm root cot the first and second years at Yale- industry-grade, harsh sheets and thin blankets. She looked over at her roommate's bed- noticing she had personalized her half of the room a bit. She had a soft, purple comforter and a few stuffed animals, a stack of books next to her bed- all paperbacks and they looked like they were mostly self-help, but there was also a very well-worn copy of Les Mis- the unabridged version.
Rory also noticed there were photos placed around, all unframed (the glass of frames not allowed in their rooms- it could be shattered and used to hurt themselves, but they were hanging on her wall by string with clothespins, they were stacked on her night stand and her dresser. Rory didn't want to snoop too much but she had to admit the pictures were amazing- she knew that if Olivia from school was here she'd be impressed. They were mostly landscapes in black and white but there were some portraits that were amazing. Rory didn't understand photography particularly well, but she was captivated by the way this girl caught the light and really exposed something in the people in the photos- vulnerability, sadness, loss, fear… it was remarkable.
After a while, Rory went back to her side of the room, making a note to ask her mom to bring some things to help her make the place a bit homier, she would be here at least a week and had spent a week in the hospital, she was so tired of impersonal, austere and antiseptic living space. She sat back and read Emma for the millionth time, but all reading materials had to be approved here- her Sylvia Plath and Toni Morrison books had been confiscated- books with themes of suicidal ideation, assaults or other triggering topics were strictly banned.
At exactly 10:00 there was a knock on the door of her room and the attendant stepped in (doors were not closed during personal time under any circumstances). "Ms. Gilmore, it's lights out- just a reminder that we will be locking the door from the outside and it will remain locked until 6:30 tomorrow morning. At that time we will open it and you may leave the room to shower or stay in, breakfast is at 7:30 exactly. If you need anything between now and then- to use the restroom or get some water, etc, you can use the intercom here and ask for someone to come and unlock your door and escort you." The woman looked down at her clipboard with notes- Rory supposed they were about her, "You don't have any food or bathroom restrictions (what did that mean, Rory wondered) but for the first 48 hours while we wait for your full assessment you will be escorted to the showers and the restroom during quiet hours- it's for your own safety. We will also bring you a shower caddy tomorrow morning- you're allowed to have someone change out the products in it- but the caddy and it's contents will be examined at that time to make sure there is nothing dangerous in them. Any questions?"
Rory just shook her head, feeling more than a bit overwhelmed- she hadn't expected this place to be a resort or anything- but she hadn't expected this much supervision and stricture and… wow, just a total lack of privacy and self-determination. She heard the door close and a click of the deadbolt outside just as the lights in the room went off- apparently there was a central switch for that. Frustrated, lonely and missing Logan and her parents she just curled up on her side and softly cried herself to sleep, trying to figure out how this was supposed to help her get better.
The next day began with the lights coming on at 6:30- way too early for Rory's tastes- nor did she care for the door being opened without her consent so that she could not sleep any longer, it was light and there was noise as other women began moving about and starting their days. Rory just groaned and went to join them in trying to gear up for her day- she knew she wouldn't be able to get any coffee until she was dressed and ready for another day of supposed introspection and empowerment.
The morning passed- she had group therapy wherein she said nothing, she had one-on-one therapy with her assigned therapist, Dr. Gertrowsh, a nice woman who spent most of her time just asking the questions about what happened the night of her assault and then the night that she was hospitalized.
"Before that night that you overdosed, how had you been dealing with your sexual assault?
"Well, I was staying at my dad's because I'm from this tiny little, wacky town- I was so beat up and had bruises and cuts and the cast of course, so I didn't want anyone asking questions or anything like that- they mean well, but they gossip like you wouldn't believe. So I stayed at my dad's, with Logan and mostly just worked on trying to move on- applying for jobs at newspapers around the country and all that."
"Ok, did you still see friends and family somewhat regularly?"
"I mean, I was living with my Dad and Logan, and mom came over a lot."
"What about other friends? I'm assuming you have good friends, from growing up or from school?"
"Well, it's kind of a weird transition period, you know? Paris, she was my roommate for most of my time at Yale, but her and her boyfriend have been backpacking through India. And Lucy and Olivia just moved to this tiny studio in NYC and don't have a car anymore. Colin is working with his dad at a law firm in Boston this summer and Lane, my best friend from growing up just had twin boys- so I didn't want to bother her."
"So none of these people were able to come visit you when you asked?" Rory shifted somewhat uncomfortably at what the doctor was getting at.
"Well, not exactly- I mean, I didn't want to inconvenience them, ask them to take time out of their lives just to come and see me- we talked on the phone, some."
"Since graduation how many times have you talked to you best friend, Lane was it?" Rory nodded at that. "How many times have you talked to Lane in the last two months?"
"Well… like I said, she's a brand new mom, so her life is all kinds of hectic." She looked at the firm look in the doctor's eyes. "Fine, twice."
"And did she ever call and you just ignored it?" Rory looked down at her hands, nodding. "So, it wasn't really that your friends couldn't make time for you or come see you or speak to you, but you were shutting people out?" Well of course she been shutting people out- what the hell was she supposed to say to them? How was she supposed to describe what she had gone through to Lane or to Paris or Colin? God- all she wanted to do was forget that everything that had happened, not hash it out with every person she ever said hello to.
"Rory, of the people you have mentioned today, people you seem close to, Paris, Lane, Lucy, Olivia, your grandparents, Luke, Sookie, Colin, Finn- how many of them know what happened?"
"Well, my grandparents were at the party the night of the attack and mom and I decided to keep it at a robbery gone wrong- Grandpa had a really bad heart attack over the winter and I just… I don't know if he can handle the stress and I'm not willing to risk it. And like I said, Paris is in India and this isn't exactly the kind of thing you say over email- hey, hope the Taj Mahal was amazing and BTW, I was raped in our apartment trying to collect $15 for that damn table for you. Namaste."
"Wow, that was pretty angry just there- do you blame Paris for what happened?" That shocked Rory, how could she even ask that?
"What? No, this wasn't her fault- I offered to do it, and who could have known what was going to happen?"
"Exactly, so what's with the anger?" Rory was about to shoot back that she wasn't angry… but realized that wasn't true. She was angry- but was it at Paris? The room stayed quiet while Rory lost herself in thought. It wasn't Paris' fault what happened- Rory had offered to hang out and collect the cash, she had done it half a dozen times already that week as they sold things off- and it was actually kind of nice of Paris to handle selling off so much of their furniture they had combined over the time they'd lived together, and still cut her in for 25% of the money. Of course, Paris hadn't thought it was particularly nice of her, her exact words more along the lines of:
"Not like it's out of the goodness of my bleeding heart, I just don't want you taking me to small claims court during my first semester of med school because you think I cheated you out of your $4.00 for some vaguely pornographic and culturally insensitive elephant lamp you formed a bizarre sentimental attachment to."
But Rory was most definitely angry. Angry that she hadn't listened when people had begged her to move out of that apartment building, that she had been way too proud to stay at Logan's apartment (still, she knew it was important for her to move out from there, but this wouldn't have happened in that apartment) or maybe ask her Dad to help her pay for a place her last semester of school- maybe even just pay for Logan's place for her. But that wasn't how she was raised- if she didn't earn it, if she hadn't worked for it, she shouldn't be casual and downright flippant about accepting it.
"Rory, would you like to let me know what you were thinking just now?" Rory had almost forgotten the woman was in the room- she was fairly lost in thought.
"I'm not angry that I was there as when I was, I had done plenty of these exchanges over the last week or two for Paris, it wasn't her fault that this happened."
"Ok, well, are you familiar with the concept of the 5 Stages of Grief?"
"Yeah, I took some psych classes."
"So you know that the first stage is denial- basically you not wanting to talk to people, tell people what happened, hiding out in your room as you did; then there is anger- you can feel irrationally angry at people, at things, at situations- many people believe that anger is what we do with the intense emotions we're feeling after trauma or loss… you have so many powerful emotions, you're so upset and grieving and your brain doesn't really know what to do it begins to translate your emotions to anger. But when you really stop and try to logically parse it, you can find your way through it. One thing you have to do is avoid the guilt that happens when you go all the way through the logic, you can feel guilty about having felt angry, and then that can set the cycle off all over again. Does that all make sense?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"It's like what you just thought about- you began to think about how you had done many of those exchanges, there was no reason for Paris to believe you would be in danger, correct? And you had real, logical and good reasons to move back in with her, right?"
"Yeah, I did. I think… I'm pretty sure that I needed to prove to myself that I could take care of myself… I mean, my mom was taking care of herself and me from the time she was 16 and all I've done is be taken care of. How am I supposed to be an international correspondent, globe-trotting reporter if I can't take care of myself in New Haven, Connecticut? With all of my family's resources and all of my education, I was still so incredibly stupid! How could I be so careless and dumb? How am I going to spend weeks in war zones and refugee camps if I can't help myself in my own damn apartment?"
"Rory, what could you have done to keep this from happening?"
"I don't know- I should have asked to see ID before I opened the door, or I should have insisted someone was with me in the apartment… or, maybe met him downstairs in the lobby- although that time of year I guess the building was pretty empty, I'm not sure that would have helped. And I guess he could have had a fake ID and I would have opened the door for him anyways."
"Rory, I want to continue to explore this theme, but we're running out of time today and I believe you have visitors coming to see you and I don't want you to miss out on any time with them. So, I have two assignments for you ok? 1) I want you to keep working on when you have negative feelings- anger especially, I want you to try and think about why you're feeling upset or angry about that thing- try to chase it down to it's root cause. 2) I want to challenge you to reconnect with at least two people this week. It can be a phone call or inviting them for a visit, that is your choice entirely, but isolating yourself from the people who love you the most does no good, you have to overcome that denial and that isolating instinct and invite people into support you- whether you tell them the whole story or not, that is your business- no one deserves to know any details of what happened. However, in my experience, letting some people in, having more people you can rely on to understand better what you are going through, the easier it is to heal. Just my two cents."
And with that Rory was able to leave therapy with quite a bit to think about and was taken to the living area where her mom, dad and Logan were all waiting, awkwardly sitting and trying to talk, waiting for her to join them.