Saturday, October 23, 2010

I'll get a quick post in before I'm caught

The rule, they told me, is no computer for a week. One of the psych techs, however, temporarily left the cloest where my computer was stored unlocked. What if one of the other inmatse had gotten to it before I had? I'm just protecting what's rightfully mine. I've got to type quickly, so there will certainly be a buttload of errors, but I'll try to fix them later if what they said about having computer access after a week is true. I'm hiding in the bathroom in the dark to type this. If I'm not caught, I can possibly hide the computer somewhere and post again. Who knows what will happen if I'm caught? They can't use electro-shock or anything barbaric because my mom isn't leaving until Sunday. She had originally planned to leave Saturday, but plans changed. My dad is still working in southern California. He and my mom will fly home on Sunday.

No one has forced medication on me. I have to go to group therapy,which is mostly bullshit, and individual appointments with my psychiatrist and pychologist, who are not all that bad. The rule here is that I and everyone else have to be in bed with lights out at 11:00 Sunday through Thurday, and by midnight on Friday and Saturday. If I can't sleep. it's my choice to ask for either over-the-couter sleep aids or precription meds, but no one forces me to take them. I have to stay in bed whether I can sleep or not, though. My psychologist recommended trying it without meds fro two days, and forcing myself to remain awake in the daytime no matter how tired I was, just to see if nature would eventually kick in and force a normal sleep cycle. I went along, but it didn't work. It doesn't work all that well with the meds, either, though. It's after 2:00 a.m. and I've had Lunesta, and I'm still wide awake.

We're not allowed to disclose anything that is shared in a group therapy session, so I won't, but I will tell you I've heard some things that are just a millimeter or two to the right of what you or I would consider to be lucid by ordinary standards. No one said I couldn't share anything that was said when I was being questioned or counseled individually, however, so I will share one thing. The RN who was filling out a questionaire for me during intake (that early, they don't yet know who is suicidal and who isn't, so they ask you the quetions orally so you don't stab yourelf with an ink pen or pencil. I suppose the patients could fill the questionaires out with crayons, but crayons grow too dull to use very quickly, and the hospital benefactors apparently do not own stock in the Crayola, Milton Bradley, or RoseArt corporations. Anyway, the RN was asking all sorts of random questions, most of them relatively logical, when all of a sudden, she pops up with, "Have you ever been angered because someone refused to acknowledge you as a deity?" I couldn't answer because I was laughing too hard. My dad (I had the option of getting rid of them for the questioning, but I didn't feel I had much to hide from them in terms of what the nurse was likely to ask, so I allowed them to stay)began to laugh as well. My mom became irritated and said something about how the therapy would not be successful if I did not take it seriously, and that my dad wasn't helping matters.

Then I said, "That's the root of all my problems in a nutshell. No one has ever acknowledged me as a deity!" The RN just stared at me at first, then she started laughing. Everyone was laughing hysterically except my mother, who was sitting there with a scowl on her face.

The nurse turned to my mom and said, "You have to admit that it's a ridiculous question to ask most people -- even the ones entering a psychiatric facility. I didn't make up the form. I just have to ask the questions."

I can see that the closet where my computer was stored has been left open again, and no one is guarding it. I'm going to save, then shut my computer down and quickly put it back. Then I won't have to worry about the consequences of being caught.

If anyone steals my computer while they leave the closet unlocked and unattended, I'll sue the ba$t@rds.

Thanks to Matt, Becca, Marianne, and others for support. Matt, my dad actually plays Scrabble more effectively when he's buzzed (his euphemism for in a drunken stupor)than when he's stone-cold sober.

Au revoir!

1 comment:

  1. Aha! A man after my own heart!

    I once played Scrabble with a woman of 84. She won. Though I think I was almost buzzed into a coma as I had drunk most of a bottle of VERY vintage Champagne. Oh, God! Thinking about it, it was older than some of my work colleagues!

    You seem to be doing OK. So I hope they can help you.

    Best wishes!