March 1st cont.

I was admitted to the hospital midday. I didn’t have my own comfortable clothes or any of my belongings, and my room was not a very welcoming place. To keep patients safe, they have to make sure that there is nothing in the rooms that could be used as a weapon or for harm. I was on the voluntary hold side of the behavioral health unit. The involuntary hold side looked even less welcoming.

My initial experience was lunch with other patients. I sat down to a delicious meal of chicken, rice, a salad, fruits, soup, juice, and a cookie. My table was filled with other patients, some old and some young. There was a sweet kid sitting next to me who immediately introduced himself and said “I’d ask what you’re in here for, but I’m sure it’s the same as all of us… psychosis.” I remember being taken aback and thinking “I’m not in here for psychosis… I’m here because I’m experiencing debilitating fear that I can’t shake, anxiety that’s causing my stomach to twist into knots, sleepless nights that are impeding my recovery, and I just want relief.” Instead, I just took off my mask, nodded my head, and started to eat.

I looked around inconspicuously at the other people in this room. There were three tables with four seats, but not every seat was filled. There were some patients who looked comfortable, like this wasn’t their first time in this situation and others who looked vulnerable and nervous, much like myself, who had never been here before. The psychiatrist did warn me before coming up that this would be a new experience for me that I would probably never forget. She was right.

After I finished my lunch, which I could only eat a small amount of, I rushed to put away my tray and get back to my lonely room. As lonely as my room was, I was also too nervous to be around the other patients. That stigma regarding mental illness also applies to those of us who experience mental illness firsthand.

I laid down on the bed, which felt like cardboard with paper-like blankets, and tried to close my eyes. You could tell they didn’t give this floor of the hospital much attention when it came to the hospital budget. So much was outdated, and uncomfortable, and honestly, the entire wing felt like the forgotten area of the hospital, only open to those who dared to enter it. After a while of hearing doors open and slam closed, hearing other patients’ conversations through the walls, and thinking myself into oblivion, I knew I needed a distraction.

My favorite distraction? Reading.

There was a book cart outside of the community room so I headed to it to see what was offered. The books were gentle, mostly feel-good subjects, or extremely outdated, but there on the cart, I found some precious gems– three Harry Potter books. If you know me, you know that this was an immediate comfort to my soul. My only choices were The Prisoner of Azkaban, Goblet of Fire, or The Half-Blood Prince. Of course, I chose my favorite title The Prisoner of Azkaban, the third title in the series, and headed back to my room.

I began to devour the book, page by page, being taken back to that world of magic, purpose, friendship, and acceptance. Oh, how these books shaped my childhood. My first Harry Potter book was given to me by my Papa Jack for Christmas one year when I was 10 or 11 years old. At the time, I wasn’t interested, but one day I decided to open it up and give it a chance. It was an immediate connection.

Here was Harry Potter, 11 years old, whose earlier years were something he had no control over due to the death of his parents, who spent most of his time lonely and isolated in a family who didn’t want him and mostly forgot about him. While my parents were alive and well, I could relate to so much of Harry’s early life experiences.

Being the youngest of four kids growing up, I spent a lot of time alone. My sister is 10 years older than me, next is my brother who is 9 years older than me, and then my other brother is 6 years older than me. By the time I came around and wanted to have siblings to play with, they were doing their own thing and I was often left to figure it out on my own. When you are a kid with siblings, I think the expectation is to grow up with them, to have lifelong friends, people who are your blood who just understand you. While my siblings were wonderful to me when they were around, that’s not what I got.

To cope with my loneliness, I taught myself how to read at four years old. Oh, the joy I got from books. From Disney classics, like Peter Pan, to regular classics, like The Babysitter’s Club or Goosebumps, and then diving into magical realms with The Chronicles of Narnia and Harry Potter, my reading knew no limits. It’s still something I spend a lot of time doing to this day.

As I sat on my bed in the hospital and read this book, I was immediately comforted, as if there was a presence with me who made sure this book was on that cart down the hall.

Recently, I learned something incredibly interesting about the Harry Potter series. If you remember when the series first came out, a lot of Christian families forbid their children from reading it because of the focus on magic and witches, which I always thought was funny considering The Chronicles of Narnia was allowed only because it was written by an atheist-turned-Christian apologetic and author, C.S. Lewis. Not bashing C.S. Lewis at all. He’s one of my favorite authors to this day, but his series was also filled with magic and witches. I always felt like the premise of withholding one series because of its content but allowing another was highly hypocritical, even when I was younger.

However, in 2008, J.K. Rowlings made a statement about the Harry Potter series, letting her readers know that it was inspired by her Christian-faith upbringing. When I read that, everything clicked into place. I saw the biblical undertones of the story immediately, especially in regard to the Deathly Hallows.

If you’re not familiar with the Deathly Hallows, it’s the image of a circle with a line through it surrounded by a triangle shape. The triangle identifies the Invisibility Cloak, the circle represents the Resurrection Stone, and the line signifies the Elder Wand. With all of these united, one would have the ultimate power of eternity. Sound familiar?

The Invisibility Cloak represents the Holy Spirit, the Resurrection Stone represents Jesus Christ, and the Elder Wand represents God. My mind was blown several weeks ago when I identified the significance of this series along with how it shaped my life. While sharing my findings with my husband, he laughed and said “you just now put that together?”

One of my favorite inferences from the series is that yes, there is a lot of evil that tries to take over Harry and his friends, but the one thing that always wins? Love. Light always overpowers the darkness, time and time again. One of my favorite quotes of the entire series, which also happens to be in my favorite book of the entire series, is from Albus Dumbledore:

“Happiness can be found, even in the darkest times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.”

I would remember to turn on the light eventually, but it still didn’t happen on this day.

Until next time,
Dev