My apologies for my extended absence.
My nerves had been frayed for a while and I had decided that being dead was a good thing. I didn't make a plan or make an attempt...but I had been feeling suicidal for days, and didn't want to go any further.
So, I called up 911 and they sent me to the psych ward.
I'm better now...have new meds.
Being in the Ward I was in is enough to drive one absolutely crazy, assuming you weren't already.
I had the worst minds of the adjacent county, most of them without their original teeth, due to rampant Crystal Meth usage, believing I was some sort of genius.
If I was a genius, I said...why would I have been suicidal?
I suppose I should take some small joy at being transformed in many eyes as to the stud of the ward...although I won't flatter myself into believing that it means much.
I spent most of my time, as I usually do, talking to women patients.
For the first four days I was there, my roomate was a psychotic African-American man who told me repeatedly about his house near the Helicopter Pad and tried to kiss all of the women. He was put into solitary confinement one night, which was, not coincidentally, the only night I managed to get any sleep.
There's also a sort of humiliation in having your thong confisicated for fear that you'll hang yourself with it, but I won't tell that story now.
I'm better...wiser, hopefully...and glad to be still here.
My nerves had been frayed for a while and I had decided that being dead was a good thing. I didn't make a plan or make an attempt...but I had been feeling suicidal for days, and didn't want to go any further.
So, I called up 911 and they sent me to the psych ward.
I'm better now...have new meds.
Being in the Ward I was in is enough to drive one absolutely crazy, assuming you weren't already.
I had the worst minds of the adjacent county, most of them without their original teeth, due to rampant Crystal Meth usage, believing I was some sort of genius.
If I was a genius, I said...why would I have been suicidal?
I suppose I should take some small joy at being transformed in many eyes as to the stud of the ward...although I won't flatter myself into believing that it means much.
I spent most of my time, as I usually do, talking to women patients.
For the first four days I was there, my roomate was a psychotic African-American man who told me repeatedly about his house near the Helicopter Pad and tried to kiss all of the women. He was put into solitary confinement one night, which was, not coincidentally, the only night I managed to get any sleep.
There's also a sort of humiliation in having your thong confisicated for fear that you'll hang yourself with it, but I won't tell that story now.
I'm better...wiser, hopefully...and glad to be still here.