Hope House

Finally more psych ward synopsis...

I woke up on Thursday morning (D-Day) to the sound of Ingrid singing softly. I was slightly disoriented as I rolled over to turn off my alarm. I looked around me and saw packed bags and empty walls. Where am I? Slowly, it was all coming back together and I remembered what was happening that day. In just a few short hours, I would be getting in a car to fly to California where I would be checking into a psych ward for an indeterminable number of days. It was all surreal and I still couldn't believe I was leaving for (what I thought would be) an entire month. As I was getting some last-minute things together (AKA throwing a box full of tampons into my suitcase because I totally forgot about hormones), my roommate, Natalie, was heading out the door. We had a quick goodbye and hug. I was immediately overwhelmed with the number of goodbyes I would be saying that day.

I was still adding last minute toiletries to my bag(s) when my phone began to ring. I knew it was JanaLe. My heart stopped for a second. This was that next moment. This was me taking the next step towards my new life. I was leaving behind my old, sorry life in Provo and hitting that stupid, red reset button (don't you sometimes wish there actually was a little, red reset button?). I stood up and something wet landed on my foot. It was a teardrop. I didn't even realize that I was crying. My roommates each grabbed a bag and I grabbed my blanket and purse. We walked out to Jan's car in complete silence. There she was, sitting in my parking garage, with a plastered-on smile across her face. I turned to my roommates and tried desperately to convey every emotion inside. Instead, it was just tears. Lots of tears. I said my goodbyes and parted with my last words of wisdom: "Make good choices. Write me. Call me. I love you. Listen to Ingrid. Be friends with Emily. Don't have sex. I will miss you. We do hard things." My roommates laughed while I listed off my last-minute advice. I couldn't help but laugh, too. Bekah suddenly started whispering my current favorite song- Ingrid Michaelson's "I am a Lady in Spain". The three of us laughed as we emotionally sang my favorite lines, a hobby that will never get old. Despite the laughter and smiles, tears continued to fall uncontrollably down my cheeks. I quickly gave each of them another embrace goodbye.

With that, I slid into Janale's car. I sobbed and she reached her arm around my shoulders. "Okay, Rach. I need gas so let's do that... and then we can go to Starbucks, okay?" I nodded because words were not possible at that point. We pulled out of the garage and rain began to pour down on us. I laughed a little. Even the sky was crying. JanaLe turned on her favorite song and said, "I love rainy Thursdays". That's Jan for you. She knows how to make you smile and how to ease a tense situation. Before hopping on the freeway, we quickly stopped in at Starbucks. It's funny because had I not known otherwise, I would have thought it was just any other day. Me and Jan just driving around and eating food :) But, I knew the truth and it wasn't just any other day. We were on our way to the flight that would change my life forever. With hot chocolate in hand, we began the hour-long drive towards Salt Lake. 

Like I said, Janale has a way with people. She doesn't know it, but she can make anyone happy. She has this ability to express love in a way that is rare. Her smile is contagious. It was a little strange to be having such a serious conversation with her as we drove. When small-talk and favorite songs were no longer enough to fill the silence, she finally asked the question I was anticipating: So... what happened? It was a question I had been trying to prepare for, and yet there was still no answer. I don't know what happened. One moment I was okay and the next I felt as if I was in the depths of despair. I had no hope and no reason to live. We talked and talked about it over and over. It didn't feel real. I kept trying to internalize my situation by repeatedly stating the obvious: "I'm going to the loony bin. I am literally checking myself into a crazy house. What am I freaking doing, Janale??" She shut that up really quick. "Rachel, stop it. I won't let anyone talk like that about my friends, even if it's about yourself. You aren't going to the loony bin. You're going to a hope house. That's what it is. You're going somewhere to give you back your hope. One day, I would love to open my own so I can save amazing people like you. Zack (her BF, now husband) can do all the counseling, and I will provide the ice cream therapy." Jan has this theory- no situation is ever made worse by eating ice cream. You're happy? Here, try some ice cream. You just bombed a test? Here, you can have ice cream, too. You're checking into a psych ward? Here, a bucket-full of ice cream for you. 

No matter how silly Janale can sometimes be (in the best way), she was right. It wasn't the end of the world. No, I wasn't going to California for a vacation, but I was going to gain something very valuable: hope. I was going to take a second to re-learn how to breathe. I was going to live in a hope house. I was going to have a reason to live again. I was finally going to be happy.