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Being an Adolescent Inpatient

On April 4th 2017, I found myself leaving the safety net of a general hospital to depart to an unknown threat.

As I approached the spiked, dominating fences a shiver ran down my spine. I was dumbfounded as I stared up to the giant, Victorian-esque building in front of me, and reluctantly stepped out of the car.

It was my first day as an adolescent inpatient. The first step in my recovery from the illness that had taken so much of my life away.

So, what did I expect?

I was oblivious to he true nature of a unit. To me, a unit was what I had seen in all of the movies I'd watched; they had padded walls with patients trapped in their rooms, fed on a plastic food tray and straight jackets on hand for those who got a little too aggressive.

Sitting in a room with a kind-faced nurse, a student nurse and a polite doctor was not what I expected. It was my admission process. We went through why I was there and what had been going on before my admission. Unfortunately, that was an admission to …

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