Thursday, March 13, 2014

His Empty Room

I have looked forward to Noah's first night away from home for several years. It is a right of passage after all.

I always thought it would be his first sleepover with a friend, or a night with grandma and papa. Maybe his first time at summer camp.

I always thought his first night away would have happened by now.

I have mourned the absence of invites from friends and grandparents.

I never imagined his first night away would be at a psychiatric hospital. Or that one night would turn into fourteen. Or that fourteen would turn into sixteen and then more.

At night as I get ready for bed I look down the hall at his empty room. He sleeps with his door closed, but for now I keep it open. I keep his night light on. I won't pretend he is here, even if I cry myself to sleep most nights because he isn't.

I know he's not sleeping well at night. Yesterday he asked us to bring him one of his blankets from home. (The blanket you made for him when he was a baby Aunt Robyn.)

This morning we were told he is having auditory hallucinations. The door is telling him if he sleeps he will die. When I talked to him about it he said it was a dream. That isn't what he told the psychiatrist though. 

Tonight he asked if I remembered his blanket. I didn't. Now I'm awake at 1:30 am worrying and hoping nothing is talking to him, even in his dreams.