Internal Turmoil In Holden Caulfield

Everything around was static. The opposite of what it should have been. The chaos of Seattle Children’s hospital was silenced by the internal screaming of “this is all wrong. It shouldn’t be happening. Not to me. Not to anymore. Ever”. A lost teenager shouldn’t be treading water to catch a breath of fresh air free from physical and mental illness. The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger, portrayed an experience of internal turmoil in Holden Caulfield’s life that left him needing a break from society and an escape from his tormenting thoughts that devalued the quality of his life similar to the mayhem I wish I could forget at Seattle Children’s Hospital. Throughout Holden’s life, he lost control of situations that he should have been capable

Unwilling to leave before I had an answer, I headed into the hospital searching for an elusive answer to my health concerns. The pediatrician I met with expressed her concerns for medications that I was on and she decided that weaning off of them was the best solution since they had been altering the way my nerves sent and received pulses of pain. I agreed to try because I was so desperate to be better. Nothing is as simple as it seems though. The second appointment was with physical therapy and it was supposed to be an evaluation to determine a starting point of physical capability since it had been months since I walked independently. This was not the case. Physical therapy determined that the issue was not that there was anything physically wrong. It was a mental problem and I had fabricated the entire situation to get attention from my parents. Being unable to do anything physically when you are an extremely active person is demoralizing. I lost almost everything that I loved and I was the one “fabricating” an issue I had no control over. Tears streamed down my face. There was no expression in the physical therapists face. I knew in an instant this wasn’t the first time she told this to a young teenager who lost hope. She deeply believed that there was nothing wrong with me or anyone else unless you could see a bone penetrating the

Never have I had to look into my dad’s eyes and tell I wish that I was dead and meant it. I’ve never truly seen my cry like this before. He knew I wasn’t kidding. I was fourteen years old and I honestly could not see myself making it to the next day. The doctor’s returned. I was to be admitted into a Psychiatric ward so I could be watched, but not until the following day. Maybe if they would have acknowledged the fact that I was truly suffering I would have made it through the program. But I could not convince myself to stay in a place where all I saw was pain. My pain, my dad’s pain and every other sick child in the buildings pain. The following day came and I made the call that I was going home. I didn't want walk away from something that was supposed to heal me but I would never have left if I didn’t leave now. My dad told me it was my call. He had the final meeting with the doctors and they said it was going to be longer than another day to admit me to the psych ward. After the head doctor told my dad this, my dad informed them that I was not going to continue the program. The doctors responded with “she isn’t going to walk ever again”, which may have been true. Seattle Children’s Hospital believed that there was only one way to solve issues and if you didn’t follow their specifications, you would not go on in life. Essentially it was their