I wake up in my room, and it takes me a second to get my bearings. Studying the white of the cold cinder block walls, I shudder when I remember where I am. I have nothing in my room. They told me last night that every morning they would bring me a change of clothes along with my overnight bag, and I would be given twenty minutes to get ready. What am I fucking four and my mom must choose my clothes for me? I’m angry again because no one has asked what I want. All control has been taken from me. Maybe getting better means taking control and responsibility.

The doctor has a variety of groups I can choose to attend along with my one-on-one sessions with her. As much as I want to heal—and fuck yes, I do—I can’t heal in an institution where I can’t even choose my clothes. All I see is the look on Ty’s face as I begged him to let me stay. If that is not motivation enough to get my ass going for the day, I don’t know what is.

* * *

I'm here a week. This is as long as it takes for me to come to grips that this place, one so cold and unwelcoming, will not be the facility to get me back on my feet.

Returning from group, I see Celia, the only person I like and can relate to, with her suitcase, scurrying down the hall. “Wait, Celia,” I call out, and she turns around with a smile on her face. “Where are you going?” Her issue for being here is not postpartum but a debilitating anxiety.

Turning to me, she smiles. “Ah, I wanted to see you before I left, but Dr. Chow wouldn’t let me.” She hands me a brochure. “I thought of you when my sister sent this to me.” I look over the front part, a little confused.

“I don’t get it?” I ask, still looking at the pamphlet.

“My sister doesn’t think this place is the best for me. She found a commune and retreat center in Houston that specializes in debilitating anxiety. But they have a facility in New Mexico that specializes in substance abuse, postpartum, and violent trauma that’s run the same way. I thought of you and wanted you to have options because I’m not sure how anyone can get better here.” Giving me a hug, she leaves quickly when Dr. Chow sees us talking.

Back in my private room, I scour the brochure. I know the law well enough to understand what rights I have. Being a business major, I dabbled with the idea of a career in corporate law and even applied to law schools. Due to this, I know where I stand. Yes, I entered voluntarily, but once I’m here and now that Kent has left for Sacramento, I can check myself out. I know this will break Tyler’s heart, thinking I’m giving up on my treatment, but I’m taking control of my own recovery.

* * *

Taking forty thousand dollars out of our account, I move it to a new account under my name only, keeping what I need for cab fare and a plane ticket. Even though I figure Dr. Chow will eventually call them, I don’t want Ty or my dad to know what I’m planning until I look at the new facility.

People will think I’m selfish, but what they don’t realize is I’m doing the most unselfish act I can think of.

As my plane descends in Albuquerque, I experience a freedom and newfound independence that I am for once taking ownership of my issues.

Upon deplaning, I walk through the airport, happy to have the choice to go to the bathroom when I want to. Come tomorrow, I can choose my own fucking clothes. My dad and husband will worry like fuck about me, and for that reason, I search for someone with a cell phone. When a group of college-aged students catches my attention, seeing they all have their phones in their hands, I approach a young girl who can’t be older than eighteen.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry. But I left my phone at home.” Not really a lie. “Can I borrow your phone to let my husband know I made it safe?”

Looking at me, she hands over her cell phone while laughing. “I could never forget my phone.” I’m thankful she’s nice enough to help me.

Punching in Ty’s number, I send him a quick text, asking him not to try to find me, and that I will be in contact. Then I delete the message and give the phone back to the girl. “If, for some reason, he calls you, tell him I’ll call him once I get settled.” Which again is the truth.

“Sure, anytime,” the naïve girl says, and I want to tell her to stay in her own world where she will only know innocence. When it’s gone, it’ll swallow her whole, like it did to me.