She walked in a big man with a huge beard and mustache sat at a desk. Right away, he jumped up from his seat and greeted Ashley.
"So you're Ashley. I'm Doctor Steve." His voice boomed, and it sounded cheerful. But Ashley didn't plan to like anyone here, even if they were friendly.
"Yeah," Ashley acknowledged.
"So, why don't you have a seat?"
Ashley decided he hadn't told her where to sit, so she took the squishy chair that she figured he was supposed to sit in. There was no way she was getting on that stupid couch. This didn't faze him at all; he just grabbed a wooden chair in the corner and sat on it.
"So, what are you here for?" he asked.
"Don't you know?" Ashley asked, realizing she was being a brat. At this point, however, she didn't really care how she came across to people.
"Well, I know why you're parents say you should be here. I know why you're friends thought they should talk to your parents. I know why you had a visit to the ER late last night, and I have opinions on why you were on suicide watch last night. But I have no idea why you think you should be here."
"Well," Ashley thought to herself, "At least he's asking me for my opinion."
"I'm here because I was cutting myself," she said shortly.
"Really?" he said.
"No, actually I was lying to you. Yes, really," she said, sarcasm dripping from her words.
He laughed. "Well, at least you have a sense of humor, however sarcastic it might be."
"Yeah," she said.
"So, you're here because you hurt yourself."
That didn't sound right to Ashley. It sounded a lot worse to say she hurted herself, than just saying she cut herself.
"No, I'm here because I cut myself."
"Ah, you make a distinction between hurting yourself and cutting. What's the difference, to you?"
"I sound sick when you say I'm hurting myself. Besides, it didn't hurt when I was cutting myself; it felt good."
"It felt good?" he asked.
"Well, yeah. My problems kind of…I guess…I don't know how to explain it."
"Was it a release for you?"
"I guess. But I wasn't hurting myself."
"Ashley, that's exactly what you were doing. You were hurting yourself. You ignored your mental pain by causing physical pain. Just because one hurt less than the other doesn't mean you didn't hurt yourself. When you're with me, I don't want you to talk about cutting yourself. I want you to talk about hurting yourself."
"But that sounds…it sounds horrible."
"It is horrible. It's a horrible thing to do to yourself. I just want you to stop downplaying it. What you did wasn't 'sick' in the way you think about it. It was a release for emotional pain you didn't know how to deal with, but it wasn't an okay way to deal."
"I guess. But…"
"Don't worry about that now. Why don't you tell me why you're on suicide watch?"
"I want to die," she said simply.
"But why?"
"Because of all the pain I've caused people. You didn't see the look on my friend's faces, on my family's faces when they saw…" she trailed off.
"When they saw where you had hurt yourself?"
"Yeah."
"If seeing that hurt them so badly, don't you think seeing you dead, at your funeral, would hurt them even more? Seeing you alive, even like that, was a thousand times better for them than seeing you dead."
"Maybe, but it hurts so bad."
"That's because you're finally dealing with some emotional pain. You don't want to, I'm sure, but because we took away all your methods for cutting yourself, you can't."
"What's your point?"
"My point is I want to know if you're safe."
"Safe from what?"
"From yourself. If I think you're a danger to yourself, you stay in the suicide watch room. If I think you aren't, then I put you in a normal room."
"What do you mean, a danger to myself?"
"Technically, hurting yourself at all. But in this case, I really want to make sure you won't kill yourself."
"Oh."
"So, what do you think?"
"Well, um…" she hesitated, knowing the answer she was thinking was not the 'right' one. "I guess I probably wouldn't kill myself. But, um, I'd…I'd cut myself given the chance."
"No."
"But I would. It's the truth."
"No, I meant you wouldn't cut yourself; you'd hurt yourself."
"Oh, sorry."
"Don't be. That was kind of the answer I was expecting. So here's the deal. I take you out of the suicide watch room. That's not the kind of environment I think you need right now. I'll put you in a regular room, but I'll have a nurse check up on you at random times. Does that sound fair?"
"What if I cut, er, I mean hurt myself?" Ashley asked, the words sounding horrible.
"Ashley," he started.
"Call me Ash," she told him.
"Ok. Ash, I can't stop you from hurting yourself. Well, technically, I could. I could lock you in a room with nothing in it and have you constantly supervised. But this isn't going to help you a whole lot. Not hurting yourself has to be a decision you make. I'm just here to help."
"What if I do cut, er, hurt myself? I mean, what happens then?"
"We'll clean you up, take away whatever you found to hurt yourself with, and send you on your way."
"That's it?"
"That's it. Unless of course, I think you tried to kill yourself. Then you go in the suicide room."
"Ok."
"Well, time's up right now. I'm seeing someone else in a few minutes. But Nurse Molly'll take you to your new room. Maybe you can meet your roommate."
"Ok," Ashley said, leaving. Nurse Molly was right outside the door. Doctor Steve handed her a slip of paper.
"So, you get a real room, huh? Alright, come on," Nurse Molly instructed, and the headed down the hall.
"So you're Ashley. I'm Doctor Steve." His voice boomed, and it sounded cheerful. But Ashley didn't plan to like anyone here, even if they were friendly.
"Yeah," Ashley acknowledged.
"So, why don't you have a seat?"
Ashley decided he hadn't told her where to sit, so she took the squishy chair that she figured he was supposed to sit in. There was no way she was getting on that stupid couch. This didn't faze him at all; he just grabbed a wooden chair in the corner and sat on it.
"So, what are you here for?" he asked.
"Don't you know?" Ashley asked, realizing she was being a brat. At this point, however, she didn't really care how she came across to people.
"Well, I know why you're parents say you should be here. I know why you're friends thought they should talk to your parents. I know why you had a visit to the ER late last night, and I have opinions on why you were on suicide watch last night. But I have no idea why you think you should be here."
"Well," Ashley thought to herself, "At least he's asking me for my opinion."
"I'm here because I was cutting myself," she said shortly.
"Really?" he said.
"No, actually I was lying to you. Yes, really," she said, sarcasm dripping from her words.
He laughed. "Well, at least you have a sense of humor, however sarcastic it might be."
"Yeah," she said.
"So, you're here because you hurt yourself."
That didn't sound right to Ashley. It sounded a lot worse to say she hurted herself, than just saying she cut herself.
"No, I'm here because I cut myself."
"Ah, you make a distinction between hurting yourself and cutting. What's the difference, to you?"
"I sound sick when you say I'm hurting myself. Besides, it didn't hurt when I was cutting myself; it felt good."
"It felt good?" he asked.
"Well, yeah. My problems kind of…I guess…I don't know how to explain it."
"Was it a release for you?"
"I guess. But I wasn't hurting myself."
"Ashley, that's exactly what you were doing. You were hurting yourself. You ignored your mental pain by causing physical pain. Just because one hurt less than the other doesn't mean you didn't hurt yourself. When you're with me, I don't want you to talk about cutting yourself. I want you to talk about hurting yourself."
"But that sounds…it sounds horrible."
"It is horrible. It's a horrible thing to do to yourself. I just want you to stop downplaying it. What you did wasn't 'sick' in the way you think about it. It was a release for emotional pain you didn't know how to deal with, but it wasn't an okay way to deal."
"I guess. But…"
"Don't worry about that now. Why don't you tell me why you're on suicide watch?"
"I want to die," she said simply.
"But why?"
"Because of all the pain I've caused people. You didn't see the look on my friend's faces, on my family's faces when they saw…" she trailed off.
"When they saw where you had hurt yourself?"
"Yeah."
"If seeing that hurt them so badly, don't you think seeing you dead, at your funeral, would hurt them even more? Seeing you alive, even like that, was a thousand times better for them than seeing you dead."
"Maybe, but it hurts so bad."
"That's because you're finally dealing with some emotional pain. You don't want to, I'm sure, but because we took away all your methods for cutting yourself, you can't."
"What's your point?"
"My point is I want to know if you're safe."
"Safe from what?"
"From yourself. If I think you're a danger to yourself, you stay in the suicide watch room. If I think you aren't, then I put you in a normal room."
"What do you mean, a danger to myself?"
"Technically, hurting yourself at all. But in this case, I really want to make sure you won't kill yourself."
"Oh."
"So, what do you think?"
"Well, um…" she hesitated, knowing the answer she was thinking was not the 'right' one. "I guess I probably wouldn't kill myself. But, um, I'd…I'd cut myself given the chance."
"No."
"But I would. It's the truth."
"No, I meant you wouldn't cut yourself; you'd hurt yourself."
"Oh, sorry."
"Don't be. That was kind of the answer I was expecting. So here's the deal. I take you out of the suicide watch room. That's not the kind of environment I think you need right now. I'll put you in a regular room, but I'll have a nurse check up on you at random times. Does that sound fair?"
"What if I cut, er, I mean hurt myself?" Ashley asked, the words sounding horrible.
"Ashley," he started.
"Call me Ash," she told him.
"Ok. Ash, I can't stop you from hurting yourself. Well, technically, I could. I could lock you in a room with nothing in it and have you constantly supervised. But this isn't going to help you a whole lot. Not hurting yourself has to be a decision you make. I'm just here to help."
"What if I do cut, er, hurt myself? I mean, what happens then?"
"We'll clean you up, take away whatever you found to hurt yourself with, and send you on your way."
"That's it?"
"That's it. Unless of course, I think you tried to kill yourself. Then you go in the suicide room."
"Ok."
"Well, time's up right now. I'm seeing someone else in a few minutes. But Nurse Molly'll take you to your new room. Maybe you can meet your roommate."
"Ok," Ashley said, leaving. Nurse Molly was right outside the door. Doctor Steve handed her a slip of paper.
"So, you get a real room, huh? Alright, come on," Nurse Molly instructed, and the headed down the hall.