On Hold

A Poem by Briana Derry, MBA

It’s cold, it’s cold…

At least I brought a coat.

Brought here by family- NOT my choice

I can’t even emote.

A cold hand touches my cold arm

“Have you engaged in self-harm?”

It’s 2018 nurse-lady, read between the lines – I can’t use my voice.

Sitting quietly and shivering

Entire body quivering

The nurse leaves.

Thank God, now can I go, please?

Ma’am you can’t leave

What the hell do you mean?

We are placing you on a hold.

My family will think less of me – a recent college graduate going through this?

But Depression and Idealization doesn’t consider if you’re young or old

In a cold hallway and strapped to a bed

Constantly observed and observing – I refuse to rest my head

“It’s time for evaluation, you’ll speak to a doc”

I just want my family, but I am alone and in shock.

The questions are invasive, random and odd

But I am immediately released – THANK GOD!

Heading home with 3 diagnoses and eager to talk to Granny

She’s still alive and no sign of illness at this time. So, why am I so unhappy?

The next year, cancer strikes my grandmother

Therapy and medication but holds? Never another.

To witness mental illness more complex in my younger sibling,

It’s a pain – a pain that will take prayer and much more for healing.

“Your brother is on hold”

My mom says those words to me.

I’ve been there, so I know it’s where he needs to be.