if I were a spaghetti noodle?

What if I leapt from the pot

— too eagerly —

wishing to reach boiling point

Squiggled on the stove

like a worm after a warm summer storm,

the steel surface might as well be concrete

The overhead lamp the sun

drying me out —

back to crispy pasta

Homeostasis

kat_poetics

it all started in the catchapot green bathroom / or maybe even before that / at ten at the lunch table / hiding the Weight Watchers trash / watching my friends contort their arms around their waists / at fourteen standing in front of the toothpaste-flecked mirror / in the shower / damp and naked in my room / my hand under my stomach / scrutinizing / measuring / absorbing just how far it puffed out / sucking in to see exactly how many inches it would take / to be the same size as everyone else / at twenty-three when I finally made it there / stomach flush with pinky / I obsessed to make sure it stayed that way / at twenty-six it didn’t / and here I am again / measuring my self-worth in the worst way possible

@kat_poetics

it started with the wristband / unchanged and rarely cleaned / seashell pink with sun-bleached spots of champagne / enclosed in hoops of brown stains / let’s be real / it took me a year to learn how to take the old thing off / obviously it started emanating this funky smell / a festering conglomeration of soil, sweat, and random spills that imprinted on my wrist / watch or not /

cheese wrist aside / charging it slipped my mind for a month straight / and i didn’t miss the buzzing one bit / now the charging port welcomes my headphones / as my watch lies dead-screened on the coffee table

@kat_poetics

I’ve left the door open —

The unlikelihood of you

Coming back is high,

As you returned the key

To my heart and home

In a handwritten note

Long ago,

But please understand

I’ve left the door open

Before I dive into this, let me say, being in a MHW (mental health ward) genuinely saved my life. I’ve been struggling heavily with my depression since September of 2020 — with my hospitalization happening almost exactly one year later due to wanting to take my own life and having unfledged plans to do so.

During my stay, I met a few wonderful people and discovered many amazing resources, but I also encountered many situations that had the ability to be detrimental to anyone in a mental health crisis. I was triggered. I was demeaned. I was attacked. Being there made me want to get better so I could leave. Below are some of the problems I faced:

• No clocks: while watching time slip by is stressful, having no concept of time at all is unbearable. On days when there was no group therapy, there were plenty of aimless hours to get lost in thoughts that you’re trying to overcome. I walked approximately three miles a day around the ward, but at least one of them was aimless with no intention. The other two were full of anxious pacing.
• Having roommates: social interaction is good for the human soul, but having roommates in a place where people are feeling homo/suicidal is just dangerous. Even with 15 minute welfare checks. From my experience, a lot can happen in 15 minutes. While I was placed with a kind and pleasant roommate, many people I knew during my stay had strange and unsafe experiences that would have been avoided. I also benefit from a safe space to unwind and let my feelings out. It is part of my recovery/self soothing, and I wasn’t allowed a place to do so.
• No going outside: being trapped indoors for 120 hours (or longer) with no way to experience sunlight or outdoors made me want to stop living. There was such a stigma where I stayed that other patient floors were afraid of us, which drove a lot of us further into our struggles.
• Treatment: many of the nurses and staff treated us like children. It was demeaning to be belittled by the people who were supposed to help you.
• Nutrition: I’m pescatarian, and it took five meals before my dietary needs were accounted for. Even after that, the food the cafeteria served us was just unhealthy. As someone with body image issues — that get worse when my mental health declines — being given a menu full of calorie and fat rich options just wasn’t ideal. I always assumed hospitals would be more concerned with dietary health. However, I am grateful to be fed.
• Discontinuity: different nurses through different shifts would hold us to their own expectations, and I felt like I had to walk on eggshells around staff. There were only a few there who really cared about us and our well being. I’m forever thankful for them. **On another note, different faculties treat patients differently. One of my family members was in another facility a few weeks before me, and he was allowed to go outside and enjoy movement/recreation and sports. Doing so would’ve done wonders for my mental health, but like I said above, stigma prevented us from doing so.

This is NOT me bashing mental health care. I am aware there is a mental health crisis world wide, and each facility is doing what they can. This is just me voicing my issues with my MHW stay in a medium — pun not intended — where I feel most comfortable. If my stay had been in a different hospital, I understand that my experience would be different. I also know that Covid impacted my stay and the rules we had to follow. I am however extremely grateful for the perspectives I gained. While the experience was terrifying at first, it was worth it because I’m still here to spread kindness and develop my voice while pushing others to grow their own.

*If you or a loved one is experiencing thoughts of harming themselves or others, please seek help from the following resources:

• National Suicide Prevention Hoteline

Phone: 800–273–8255

Website: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

• National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI)

Website: https://nami.org/Home

• Crisis Text Line

Phone: 741741 TEXT “HOME”