Wednesday, June 01, 2005

we're going to the funny farm, ho ho hee hee

I went to see my therapist on Friday, and she convinced me to go into the local psych ward for a few days, just because I was feeling a wee bit suicidal, she has to go all doo-lally and I thought, well, how bad can it be?

Bad.

It isn't just trying to read by overhead lights (no lamps, they have cords, you know?) and not being able to put on all my makeup (mirrors in the compacts) and having to eat ham as a finger food (no plastic knives) and not being able to use my palm pilot (glass screen) and having to use their shampoo (stripping out half my hair tint, since my shampoo is in a glass bottle) and having no belt on my bathrobe or laces in my shoes and having them "check on me" every 30 minutes all night long. No, I could have managed all of that. The real problem is that the entire ward is full of CRAZY PEOPLE. The lady who growls like a dog. The man who wanders into your room. The lady who thinks the man is her father. The biker who shouts about the War. The man who wanders the hall, spitting on the floor. The lady who pees her pants because the bathroom is haunted. The girl who steals food off the other patients' trays. The fights over the pay phones, and the cigarettes. THe TV turned up to maximum volume, and no one in the room. My roommate either cried or prayed or sang hymns all day, I don't know which is worse.

And the 'group therapy' sessions. In one of them, the moderator read a little homily about the virtues of keeping an open mind instead of 'being set in your ways'.
Then he went around the room, asking every one what they thought about keeping an open mind. One by one, they agreed an open mind is a good thing. Then he got to me. I said, one of the reasons the "old ways" for doing things got that way is they had withstood the test of time; that a lot of the time, the "new" way sounded great at first, and then down the road turned out to be hooey. Then I said, it's possible to have so much of a open mind your brain falls out on the floor. There was a pause, and you could see him thinking "Hoo boy, this one's AWAKE! Better move on...." and that was my last group session.

The psych doctor was pretty good, tho I got tired of answering the same questions. It's hard to remember dates, too....how long ago did this start? When did this happen? They changed all my meds around (no surprise) and now I'm fighting off the sleepies during the daytime and bouncing off the walls all night. Do I feel Safe? Not from them.

Back at work, I'm trying not to feel cheated of my three day weekend. I have audits to do but they can wait until tomorrow while I enter data in the database, and thus avoid all people for the day. Silence IS golden, you know?

9 comments :

Carolyn said...

Hi and welcome back!

Hope you're feeling better :)

Mizchelle said...

Lordy, hope you feel better soon!

Just surfing by via BlogExplosion. See you later!

Sassy said...

Wow...what a trip! I'm sorry you had to experience that and I hope you're feeling much better!

GNN Staff Writer said...

Don't give up. You humor is gonna get you through.

I must tell you how much I've enjoyed visiting your blog. It is never boring. When you get a chance, stop by my place and say hello.

Anna said...

This is not good news. My shrinky doc wants me to do the same thing.

greeneyed_lady said...

Been there done that twice! LOL But sometimes I want to go back. Escape the teenagers and the food there was excellent lol

Jay said...

I hope you're feeling better. Drop me an email if you ever need to talk.

Janice said...

Just surfing on by from BE. I hope you feel better. I had a similar experience years ago, although the people I met were not as ill -- at least they didn't exhibit such serious symptoms at the time.

Steve said...

I know a lot of people who have serious mental illnesses. My current roommate is one of them, washing his hands 25 times a day and using six rolls of paper towels, hardly ever being able to sleep as a result of depression, and unable to leave the apartment except to go to class because he's too socially anxious to talk to anyone.

I decided to move out last week. Why? It's not because he has mental problems - he obviously didn't have a choice in that. What he did have a choice in is whether he would try to improve himself. He refused three times to seek any help, and I couldn't justify staying if he wasn't going to work to get better.

Kudos to you for taking matters into your own hands! You're light years ahead of 90% of people with mental illness simply because you decided it's time to get better.

-Steve
Games are for Children