I remember being in the hospital in one of those blue and white striped hospital robes. My hair was crazy and so was my mentality. I ran up and down the halls with the yellow and white dotted hospital socks that stuck to the flat purple rug. My name tag and Kiesar number was a band that was snapped tight around my wrist.
I didn't know how long I was in there, going room from to room, and saying hi to the other kids who had problems. " Hey there model! Top model," one of the staff members said to me all the time.
It was medication time now in the dayroom. " Dipikote," one lady said to me and handed me a small paper cup with an orange peel and a glass of water. " What is it for?" I asked. " To make reality seem real to you," she said.
I had to get things straight. I popped the pills in my mouth and swallowed. The next thing I knew was that it was Visiting Hours. I saw my mom and my dad together for the first time walking into the Hospital.
" Lizzie," my mom said disturbing my thoughts as I looked away from the hospital band I wore long ago. " Yes," I said slowly in my spaced out mood. " What are you thinking about?" she asked me.
" Fremont Hospital," I said.
" I thought we got that cleared up. What about it?"
" Why was I there?"
" You thought it was summer time that's why. Don't you think something is wrong with that?" she said putting her hand on her hip.
" It looked like an old folk's home. It was so unreal!" I started to yell.
" Liz it was a real and bad experience."
" What am I diagnosed with?" I asked in a facial expression that my mom never forgot.
" You are diagnosed with a bipolar disorder possibly," my mom said.
I parted my mouth and looked back at the hospital band that had eleven digits and my name on it. I laid there on my dresser. Thoughts raced in my head. What is bipolar?