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| Tweet Topic Started: 23 Jan 2014, 22:11 (1,114 Views) | |
| Haltari | 27 Jan 2014, 01:45 Post #31 |
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"House Chairman"
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That's good to hear. I was really getting worried about him. |
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International Affairs Office of The Constitutional Monarchy of HaltariFormer Secretary-General of the Democratic Socialist Assembly for the 9th Cabinet Former President and World Assembly Delegate of the Democratic Socialist Assembly for the 5th, 6th, and 7th Cabinets Former Minister of Immigration and Regional Promotion of the Democratic Socialist Assembly for the 3rd and 4th Cabinets "National Unity and Liberty"
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| Cuba | 2 Feb 2014, 16:21 Post #32 |
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Unregistered
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Here is a TG I wrote to Tom/Discoveria, you may read it: <3 My Dear, My Sweet, My Most Beloved, My Everything, My One And Only, My Tom <3 I am writing to tell you about what happened these past days when I was away, and to recount the story of how YOU saved my life. First off, thank you from the bottom of my heart, I had tried to walk into traffic but each time I did I rushed back whilst the cars swerved, not able to do it. I did this three times before I was emotionally drained and decided to go back to the apartment to think of other ways to do it. I had no strong medications to work with, and I was unwilling to cut my veins and have my sister find me like that, I was unwulling to walk down to the riverside whose view I hope to share with you one day because its too beautiful and the ducks too nice to have to have this carrion body's blood milking in their pacific stream. So I went to sleep....sleep sleep sleep....until I was awoken by a fiercely loud pounding on the door, I thought I was dreaming it but when I went to check I saw a policeman through the eye-hole, they asked to come in so they did. They asked me 'do you know why we're here?', I said 'no...', they said 'we were called here because you've been posting things online about killing yourself', I asked like the paranoid I am, 'am i under surveillance by the government or something?' he laughed and said, 'no, actually there was someone who called us and gave us your address, he was a man from london....', I said '....oh, I know how this happened then...he had my address because he was gonna send me a book of his poetry, I'm in love with him, he was probably worried enough to call you...' There was a policeman from London there as well, believe it or not, blue eyed and blond, he was observing their precinct at work for a couple days, I felt it was so odd, and such a sign, that there was somebody from the UK present, what a coincidence, or of itself the hand of god telling me in many ways that you're the one I'm meant to be with, because every moment of serendipitous reflection comes back to you, the sun which releases his rays of love and they descend upon this feeble and mean shrub in the deserts of me affections. I was forced to go with them because they didn't believe I wouldn't harm myself or attempt it again (walking into traffic), so they handcuffed me and placed me in the back of the police car. The braces caused my wrists to bleed because they were too tight, so when I arrived at the admissions area of the Psychiatric Emergency Hospital/Unit of UNM, I had blood coming from my wrists which the admitting nurse believed was done by self-harm. I explained it wasn't but she eyed me warily anyways. I had to remove all my garments in front of someone so they could view my body and see if I'd cut myself or if I had any injuries, they then made me wear a hospital gown and sit in a small room that made me feel claustrophobic. The security guard for the triage admission area, a gal named Peggy, was very nice to me, and she walked into the room and comforted me because I was crying constantly(she brought me food and water and gave me a hug every hour), I'd never felt so alone and so sad in all my life. I was contemplating what a bad person I was, how unworthy I was to have you in my life, how much I probably hurt you by doing this, I feared that you might cry for me in a rare lapse of emotion in your lovely stoic demeanor, I felt disconsolate that I might never speak to you again, or let you know I was ok without you worrying for days and nights. I apologize for any worry I may have caused you, you were sweet to care and to do that for me, as I would've attempted again at night through another means (I'd been fishing online for shady sites that put you in touch with barbiturates dealers). After admission I was led into the inpatient area, a small ward of the hospital with five rooms: one for the women with six beds in it, two for men with four beds in it each, one for two individuals with two beds in it, one special room with only one bed in it, and one with hospital equipment and for a very sick person or someone who needed serious medical care. The rooms were spartan, small, dim and bare, with hard blue plastic polyeurethane molds nailed into the floor serving as bed frames, and a very hard mattress on top that seems as if it was filled with soil and not any kind of cotton or goose downs. There was a modest pillow on top that you had to fold in half in order to get some decent head support whilst sleeping, and several blankets nearby that were very light and airy, you needed several at night and if you were asleep in day because the ward had all ceramic tile floor and the walls made of cinderblock bathed in beige carried the cold ambient and air all day and night. Outside of the rooms there was a central dining table/tables, all connected to form one long table, it held nine chairs on each side, and most of the patients ate their meals here and had our activities here. The tables were common plastic molded tables with rough tops that made it hard to write or draw or color without getting the bleedthrough of the myriad dots lining the top. The chairs were common chairs like people use outside, plastic, key lime green. The only other area we were allowed in besides our modest and claustrophobic rooms and the minimal communal activity area and dining area in one, was the lounge room, which consisted of a small round table in the middle with four comfortable wooden chairs topped with blue vinyl type material, making them the preferred chair in the whole place. This area was used for conference with the doctor or for group sessions, in which the leader would sit here and speak around the room as it was the only table in the place that was useful for laying out papers or writing, drawing, etc. It was a nice place to do puzzled and to sketch, because if one sat at a certain chair, one would get a view of the only trees and green grass and blue sky we were allowed in this demi-carceral condition without any stimulation. None of the rooms had windows, so this was a special place, a unique place that everyone liked to congregate for to consider there was still a world outside going on without us, which we could only view but not touch, nor breathe the air, nor put our feet in the grass, nor smell flowers, but merely observe. From this perspective, in a moment of contemplation I realized how much it is that I love nature, the environment, and I realized the condition of caged animals and other creatures, and how sad they must feel, to be fed and have a place to rest, but to see the world they were once free in, and merely look longingly and touching the confines of the boundaries which others created for them. The only tv was in the lounge room, but I always hated what everyone else wanted to watch, as I prefer documentaries, reality tv. and music videos, and everyone else it seemed preferred news and sports, which I despise. I didn't watch a lot of tv, less than 15 minutes of it in total in the 5 days I was there. Instead I preferred to use headphones they gave us, with radio transmitters inside that picked up the stations and dials on the ear lobes, one on the left for volume, one on the right for tuning. I listened to classical music the whole time I was there. In the middle nexus of the paths and two hallways total in the entire place set up like a rectangle, was a pan-opticon like booth where the technicians and nurses gazed out out everyone going about the listless shuffling and unstimulating life on the ward from therin. I got along with some, and loathed some others, but I will describe those details concerning each individual as they arose on the following days. I shall describe the days and events in order: Day 1- I arrived in the ward feeling scared, alone, and not knowing what to do with myself. It was lunchtime when I arrived, I had a meal of steamed mixed vegetables, cabbage leaves stuffed with ground meat and smothered in sweet tomato sauce over some spaghetti pasta, and some lowfat milk. One of the other patients gave me his fruit cup of pineapple chunks and pear slices in sweet syrup, as they were out of them by the time I got in line to get my meal, and the gesture introduced me to my first friend, a lonely and depressed man named John. John was an older man I'd say of about forty five, with scruffy brown facial hair and scruffy hair combed into a slight cowlick at the front, he had a ruddy complexion at all times, he had severe inverse V shaped eyebrows which I found very appealing and dramatic looking, and always bore a disposition of ease in spite of his condition of depression. He talked to me a lot about how things ran in the ward, which shower to use (as the ones in the rooms farthest away from the water heater took longer/never heated up), introduced me to the others, and cracked jokes to make me feel better. I instantly took a liking to him and shared a room with him for the first two days, then again for the last two days after an incident forced me out of my other room which I will describe. The first day there I took part in a group counseling session in the midday in which we established an achievable goal for the day, and at night we recapped if we completed it. My first goal was to write a poem, which I will transcribe here: What is life? What is life? But the longing of the moth to touch the light Bathed in night. What is love? What is love? But random tidal rush and quick-foam crush On urchin's brush. What is death? What is death? But Dawn blowing out the candle's amber glow, another existence yet to go... The poem was written on my first day based on my feelings on that day, and in contemplation of what brought me there and my mindset. The poem was well-received in group, and one of the nurses asked for me to inscribe it in a card stock card with a collage I'd made as the background, to be taped on a board where the patient's posted their art or poems. Mine was the first poem anyone had ever written, and she especially liked it because of its cadence and its depth, and she told me she was a former schoolteacher. I believe her name was Linda or something of the sort. She was an older woman with thick rimmed glasses and was quite short, with long ash blond hair held together by purple or blue scrunchies (she preferred these tones), and walked around the ward doing checks on the rooms at night, to make sure everyone was well and not in distress. She always had a smile on her face and she told me she got into nursing because 'I can't help but to care for people and I love helping people, and even if they don't smile or are miserable, I always smile to lighten their day'. I thanked her for her charity and human kindness in this respect. In spite of making a friend and expressing myself in the limited capacities I could (they would not allow me a pen or anything sharp as I was in there for self-harm/suicidal tendencies), so I wrote it with crayons, in any case, I was very distressed at being away from home, being in this strange, cloistered, and ever confining space so they medicated be with 'Atavan'(sp?) to control the unease and anxiety every four hours. It only helped mildly, and I was still very very anxious and crying in my room, so they gave me sleeping pills 'Trazadone'(sp?) so I could rest as I'd not rested in a while. My anxiousness and despair resisted even that, and the first day in spite of the sleeping pills having a fatiguing effect, I could not sleep in 'my room' even though my friend was there because I was not acquainted with/did not know or trust the others in room. I stayed up till 4 am coloring and speaking to another new friend, a young man named Alejandro who was 18 and had bipolar disorder. We spent the night talking about Albuquerque, about what brought us here, of plans to set up a stall in the fairgrounds/flea market to sell our mutual artistic products, he was very artistic himself, and draw cartoons with me on the whiteboard in the center of hallway where the nurses posted an itinerary every day. He draw a cute cat and dog duo that were saying hi, I drew the landscape of the view from the lounge on the blacboard, as well as small sectional squares with patterns and different designs, as well as a conceptual art expression consisting of a horn of plenty/wicker cone with a severed head, an oversized index finger with chipped nail, a large scythe and orange marigolds strewn within and without the horn of plenty. Alejandro's disposition is thus: He is a very attractive young man with what I described to him, and which he received with a chuckle, as spiked anime hair which he would judiciously maintain during the whole stay there, he was short for his age but a very cute twink boy with nice abs and a nice plump little ass. He said 'I hate faggots' at first, but after I got to know him, he said 'I like the ones like you who aren't all out there, I'm totally cool with you amigo' and he gave me a hug. We shared rooms after that with John and another patient I'll describe later on. I finally went to sleep, after a long time listening to a schizophrenic patient rant on and on about how Barack Obama was satan or was 'in on it' and how he recognized me as 'Steve Chapman' with whom he'd designed games for the Atari with in his past. We spoke, in his lucid moments, of games we liked like Super Mario Bros., Tetris, Space Invaders etc. He kept trailing on without me though, and I just listened and listened attentively and respectfully, trying to add responses where he seemed to want them ellicited from me. He was a balding man with what looked like a monk's tonsure around his head, he was dark blond haired, his name was Steve even though he denied being 'Steve', he never said who he 'was' ultimately but I never addressed him by his name so as not to distress him in case he didn't want to be 'Steve' or if being 'Steve' was as hard as being me was and this was what drove him into madness. In any case, I listened for two hours to him, before I unwittingly and rudely fell asleep in the comfortable chairs in the lounge room I was telling you about, and woke at five to rise and go to 'my room' and sleep on the bed instead. Day 2- I slept until 7 when the nurses raised the reveille and took our blood pressure, and dispensed medication for the morning. We had coffee at the communal table and waited for breakfast to arrive. A short older woman with a fair complexion, medium length brown and 'salt-and-peppered' hair tied into a bun sporting a plastic hair net neatly pressed into the hair with pins, Cuban with a wonderful accent and reminded me of my nation here, of the nation I love with such a deep affection, and we traded information about Cuba as she dispensed breakfast to the others. It felt good to speak Spanish with someone, and she made me feel more centered and comfortable as she was someone like me. In any case, I discerned that she didn't like Cuba too much, which was to be expected from a lighter skinned person (no judgment there but its true), but she was perfectly cordial as I was with her when I expressed my political beliefs and support for the Cuban Revolution. Breakfast consisted of two very small and meagre hotcakes bathed in maple syrup, two strips of sausage, scrambled eggs which I doused in black pepper, a small pint of lowfat milk with a silly cow on it, and a cup of fruit consisting of peach slices in syrup. An older man named Florencio, who was in there because of heroin based psychosis and had problems communicating and speaking, gave me five slices of his bacon! I said thanks a lot buddy, and I made the effort to speak to him more. I don't know why he was so nice to me, as he was very silent since he couldn't communicate much, and was in constant pain because of his back and his veins which were always in pain, but I included him in conversations as I could, and would give him a hug every day after that to remind him others cared about him. He seemed to be angry with most of the others, and with the nurses because he was visibly frustrated each time he went to ask for his meds since he couldn't get the words out while others around him could. I made him a chart with an alphabet on it, with large bold letters, so he could communicate better. I was surprised the staff hadn't thought of this beforehand. In any case, Florencio was a diabetic so he would get special meals and get extra food and portions since his blood sugar was low most of the time and he needed to stay healthy and strong in spite of his old age. His physical appearance could be described as thus: medium build, hunched over with a pemanent hump type back, strong nonetheless as he had been a vigorous man in his youth and was a former cholo/gangster, lovely hazel eyes that looked very sad and confused most of the time, bushy eyebrows and a neatly trimmed goattee and light mustache in juxtaposition to his chaotic disposition, wrinkled face and brow that looked like it carried every worry of his life scrawled onto each line. He shuffled his steps as he walked, slowly, stepping with his feet slightly to sideways, and shuffling slowly as he was the oldest one there and in constant pain from his condition which needed to be attentively administered by the nurses and usually was. He like me, couldn't always sleep at night and I would hear screaming in his room because he'd have nightmares and I'd try to comfort him if I was still awake late at night, which I usually was. He would mutter under his breath about the others 'you see that one over there.......fuckin...stupid....', but he always got along with me and cracked jokes and I liked to hear him laugh and see him smile. He usually hung out in front of the tv laughing at random things only he could understand and find hilarious, looking over to me for approval and I forced a chuckle to make him feel good and whatnot He was sweet, the only time I saw him aggressive was with the nurses whom he found abominable for many reasons (certain nurses are kind and sympathetic, others would force him back to his room, in constant pain for the rest of the night, without medication because they couldn't understand him, which enraged me), and another instance where he was aggressive was when Alejandro's bipolar disorder made him lash out at the nurses (he was determined to leave, and like me had been arrested and brought in, which enraged him) and at the other patients, he said 'I fucking hate you, you, you, you' pointing to the nurses and to all the patients, and Florencio in his simple state didn't understand that it was just Alejandro's(or Axel as he prefers to be called :D) defensive nature and that he was simply afraid and lashing out. They had to put Alejandro to sleep with tranquilizers that day, and Florencio was separated from him because he lunged at Alejandro looking for a fight. For an old and sickly man, Florencio is a brave dude, wanting to take on a young strong man like Alejandro. I respect that a lot.We had a goal's meeting after breakfast that day and my goal for the day was to make a work of art to express myself and use my anxiety/anger at situation being here/depression in general as a conduit towards releasing that energy in a non-self harming, non-self loathing, and ultimately productive and expressive way. So I did accomplish that goal really quickly after that, in spite of not being allowed scissors because they were afraid I'd harm myself with them, so I had to crease the pictures and the edges and tear them out of magazines slowly and carefully, which made me feel empowered that no matter what restrictions, and using whatever is available, I still produced a coherent piece and an expressive piece. The art instructor Anna, who came twice during my stay, felt compelled to congratulate my effort in working within the restrictions of my situation, and respected me, as a fellow artist, for expressing myself no matter what and we formed a natural bond of spirit. She was an older woman, very peaceful and placid in her disposition, with long slender discolored rose lips, and an austere aristocratic disposition and arched eyebrows, she wrung her hands in pleasure when she had patients working with her materials, grinding fingers that looked like happy fat grubs into each other in delight. I liked her air and the way she advocated for me with the nurses, and she arranged to get me cardstock paper for my collages in the future days, and to get more crayons, and to get me color pencils and pastels to work with. She was a great human being whom I discussed the problems of mental health care with from my perspective, and we both commisserated on the fact that the arts programs was reduced to twice a week from before in the 70s and 80s when she had a permanent job there, she lost her job and now volunteers, her own time and money for supplies, because of Reagan and his push to get all of the 'leeches' like the mentally ill and the poor off the government teat back in the 80s. Its far more important to the state to send its tired, scared, and hungry masses to fend for themselves, each at each other's throats in the street, than to be good Christians as they claim to be, and to indulge the priority of care and love instead of greed and war. Such a thing would be too much to ask in a nation such as ours it seems, as the government barely does these services of which I was availed, and the illustration of which I hope will provide I hope an objective picture of the poor conditions of mental health care beyond medicating patients and confining them in old, cold, unstimulating environments. My collage consisted of a picture of London at sunset, with a view of the Thames streaming about like a glimmering serpent in the foreground, and with views of the giant ferris wheel I would one day like to ride, which we discussed, that picture instantly reminded me of you, and there was a string of letters which said 'Dear London', which I felt also represented you and the city I long to know firsthand, therefore it was the center piece as it was you that was constantly on my mind. Surrounding it were immensely surreal photographs of: bright purple fly eggs nested and wreathed in the exoskeleton embrace of winding, almost blinding, bright orange; an immensely magnified image of the stem of a rose, which displayed the tones of evergreen, lime green, light tan, dark brown, and gray winding around in a symetrical pattern of interlocked platelets on the surface of stem which brought to mind a mosaic, which brought to mind my name hence it was incorporated thuswise; an image of an intensely magnified tadpole fetus in its bright bright bright key lime pie like bubbled egg that seemed to spring forth from the white background of the page, as it was a symbol of birth/rebirth, it was incorporated thuswise; an image of a beach in the south pacific in which there was sharp azure, sky blue crystalline waves, decadent bone white foam, red sands underneath it, and a trail of dried glossy obsidian from the recent volcanic eruption, as it represented the growth of new things, and the beauty of creation in the midst of destruction, or perhaps arising from destruction, it was incorporated thus; an image of bright orange marigolds from a festival in India, which represent death and the beauty of life transcendant afterwards, and was incorporated thus; clippings of the Pharaoh Tutankhamun in his regal golden mask lined with almost sapphiric blue lapiz lazuli from afghanistan, green emeralds and red rubies, which represented another young man who 'died' young, utilized as a symbol of the tomb of my depressive thoughts and the wonderful expressions I was able to achieve even in my imperfect former state before the transition to some semblance of peace, typified in the young pharaoh's wise and serene countenance in death; clippings of the Great Pyramids at Giza, which to me represented the hard work it takes to achieve anything of worth, and the respect and appreciation other's will have for my suffering, my works of art, my contributions to human existence and my place as one stone in a larger array of lives, forming a neat and ordered function in spite of my unknowingness as that stone of my place in it, and the ultimate nature of reality as the myriad contributions and placement of many entities trapped in material existence as represented by stones; An image of the pharaoh Amenhotep/better known as Akhenaten, the rebel pharaoh, who in his image as an effeminate man with hips, a large swelled ovalesque head, and distinct graceful curves and of course, in rememberence of his nature as an iconoclast as I am, and for the effette features as I have, incorported thus; an image of bright blue and yellow collored toucans preening their leaves and cleaning each other in the midst of an infernally green rainforest and bathing in sunlight, which reminded me of you and I, of my old friend Mango, and of the promise of a life together, and incorporated this; some clippings from the patterns of the Great Mosques of Isfahan, Qum, and Tehran in Iran, which have majestic and peaceful and contemplative patterns adorning the tear shaped and flaring vaunted doors of the masjids, of interlocking plant motifs lining the walls and arabic calligraphy lining the borders, of bold and crisp periwinkle flower patterns on the lily white floors the people step on, incorporated for aesthetic purposes. Along with these I included strips of my poem, written in calligraphy as the monks of old Christian Europe colored their Capital letters, strewn about haphazardly as design elements nested into the piece and providing a sense of order to the otherwise chaotic and rich blend of tones and images. I was applauded for my work by the nurses, and it was placed on the common pinboard with tape for all to see. Florencio, Alejandro, a native american nurse named Dana, a nurse name Kenneth, and a depressed man named Randy found it especially inspiring and spent ten to fifteen minutes each staring at it. Anna the art instruction/art activities director, as I said, was especially proud of my use of what was available and of my work in creating the collage without scissors but through slight and deliberate creases and tears, and the texture with which the image abounded, as well as the personal meaning applied by placing the poem into it. I apologize for repeating this facet, but it was very important to be appreciated for this and to be recognized for this, which is why I elaborated upon the subject further. We had dinner which consisted of chicken fried steak (drowning in brown gravy), mashed potatos (drowning in brown gravy), steamed broccolli on the side, and a small cup of cranberry juice and another small pint of milk (this time with a silly cow dancing with another silly cow). It was a good meal, and probably one of the best I had there. After finishing my collage, I did a puzzle in the lounge room for the rest of the afternoon which consumed my attention and wits, a 1000 piece puzzle that was of a port in a Danish city, with bright colorful northern european facade fin-de-seicle houses and the busy motion of tourists and citizens around the quay, with schooners harbored in the foreground. I had nearly finished it by dusk time when Alejandro by mistake (I hope) dropped some lemonade on it, ruining the puzzle and making it sticky and unworkable, instead of getting angry as I normally would I merely accepted it and moved onto another activity, which was conversing with another fellow patient, a delightful and lively woman named Cassandra. She was watching 'Family Guy' and 'South Park' which she found hilarious but which I couldn't tolerate, so I made conversation with her and faced away from TV so as to not be angered by an episode of South Park which made light of Catholic priest child abuse, something which she took note of and asked the nurses to please change the channel as it was a stressful trigger for patients like me who'd be abused or raped. We discussed our lives and what got us here afterwards, while the news anchors droned about yet another school shooting, and yet another over exposed washington scandal involving the President urging the Congress to raise minimum wage in our country. I would describe her appearance as thus: She was of a light build, slender yet with subtle curves, a bouncy butt and small breasts, with a vivacious intensity in her eyes and a constant smile and good cheer when she conversed which made her eyes fold into crescentlike crowns on her face, she had nice cheeks and perky doe eyes colored green. She clutched onto a book she had been reading for days before I arrived, one that dealt with a small girl living in prehistoric times who was taken in by a tribe of neanderthals after they killed her parents. We started up our discussion speaking of neanderthals and what it must've been like for early humans to interact with them, about the characters in the book and the story thus far (she had barely cracked into 50 pages as she was the constantly distracted type), and about other books we'd read and liked mutually. We then discussed how she got there, which was because she voluntarily admitted herself after having had an overdose from opiates after a binge with meth the week before, we discussed what meth was like for both of us and the troubles associated with it, we discussed our mutual affection for marijuana, we discussed coming from dysfunctional families and the baggage associated with it. We ended as friends, after having spoken for two hours without breaks nor hesitation, and we had a natural ease and chemistry, as she was the only one who was extroverted like me in the entire ward. I bade her good night and went to take a shower before going to bed(I asked Florencio for permission to shower in his room as he had the access to the quickest warming water, though he woke from his slumber after I showered, confused as to why I was there naked in his bathroom :D). The showers were horrid small cement like tombs with a shower head that couldn't be adjusted but merely sprayed high pressure water at my chest making my nipples ache, I had to duck and struggle with the water stream to get my hair and back wet, and had to keep on pressing a button as it would shut off after 5 minutes of use each time. Eventually, by the end of the ordeal, I was clean and felt refreshed. I cannot overstate however how much I loathed the shower and the difficulty for a taller person to shower there. After that I went to the nurses dispensary section to get some Trazadone to sleep and some more Attavan to calm my blood pressure and anxiety(which was still high nonetheless). I went to sleep in 'my bed' pretty late nonetheless, taking some time to color a printout of a native american porting an eagle's head as a headdress with wings, I colored it with every color in the spectrum I could find, as I believed these people walked in the light and knew the creator firsthand through their humility and love, and imagined myself as the figure, a stranger in a strange world, something destroyed or weakened yet still resilient, still taking flight at any moment. Before I went to sleep, I noticed them admitting a new patient, who I will discuss in the following segment, and whom I had problems with which I'll elaborate upon. Day 3 I awoke at 5 am, not getting enough sleep as I probably should have, but within my natural sleep rhythym that being to sleep only a few hours then feel restless to wake anew. As I was traversing the hallways, shuffling back and forth instead of running to get exercise, doing sit ups and pushups in the lounge room, and then chatting with some of the nurses whilst they attended to their room checks and night reports, I started feeling somewhat more at ease in the place in spite of its confining nature. I had my blood pressure taken, I was told it was very high and abnormal, and if I was in pain or anxious, I said 'not particularly but I am anxious because I'm somewhere that's not home and I haven't seen or heard from my sister yet'. They gave me a double dose of Attavan and I was ok for the next couple hours, zoning out reading old issues of National Geographic and the New Yorker till everyone else awoke from their slumber for blood pressure testing and medication. Coffee arrived and I had some coffee which had me working in a frenzied pace to complete a second work of art, a sketch of the withering trees and patched grass surrounded by imposing concrete walls and tall slender windows, with the light being captured in the work of the early morning dawn and the barely noticable ice on the ground and branches. When breakfast arrived, I was very hungry unlike the past two days, so I devoured my breakfast of French Toast and scrambled eggs with bacon strips very quickly, whilst making conversation with the new patient whose name was Peter. Peter's appearance and form of being can be described as thus: Peter was a tall, obese man around my age, with a ridiculous bowl/demi-mushroom haircut, with green eyes nested in nervous looking almond holes in his acne-ridden bulbous head, with a hump and almost always hunching over when standing or walking, with a frenzied pace that alarmed other patients when this large trunk of a man with swaying hands waddled and shuffled in the hallways looking quite foolish and like a bumbling oaf, and was a very irritable and excitable person. I first took notice of him as he argued with the nurses petulantly that he hated his bed, that he hated being here (again), and that he wanted his own room because we all 'sucked'. No one liked him after that because everyone heard, and unlike Alejandro, he was not disposed of a charming nature nor anything beyond the frayed and pitiable antics of a petulant child, screeching and talking loud like a drunk friend you can't shut up no matter how hard you try, and asking for double portions of the meal when the others hadn't even gotten their own meal yet and were waiting in line. I took a dislike to him as well at the breakfast table because he tried to take Florencio's food when he wasn't looking, and he showed that he was very selfish and spoiled in that. In spite of this, and because I like outsiders and outcasts, and because no one else was speaking to him or wanted to, I made conversation with him. He wouldn't tell us why he was there, but I overheard whilst sketching on the long table later that day, in the gossip and banter in the nurses booth, that he was there because he had tried to run away from home and he was at a strip club fondling women in a state of psychotic delerium. Other people overheard the gossip and soon it was joked about, much to his chagrin. In any case, he seemed amiable enough, and he had a room with another bed, and proposed we room together since we got along well enough and he admired my art and since I was the only one who opened up to him. So I did, I moved my mattress and pillow and blankets to his room, moved my second change of clothes which I finally got back from the nurses so I could feel more normal without the hospital gown, and spoke to him a while in his room for the rest of the morning. I took a shower in 'my room' now this other one, and I noticed he was peeking in to see me naked (there are no doors to separate the commode and the shower room from the rest of the room because the nurses need easy access in case something happened or someone's injured/is injuring themselves), I didn't mind and pretended not to notice, but I was alarmed at his unwarranted familiarity and lack of social mores nonetheless. I asked Alejandro to move in with me and he took the third bed, a medical type bed with a raised back which he found preferable to the one in his room, and he likewise took a shower after I had. He had a really nice body and wasn't ashamed of showing it either, but he was creeped out by Peter ogling him like he had me, and even though I am gay I was not going to try to have a run at Alejandro as much as I wanted to because I respect his sexuality and his privacy. Alejandro took notice and we discussed it later, trying to watch out for each other in case this dude tried anythin on either of us, and joking about his awkwardness and lack of sense around others. We had another group meeting to establish goals for the day, mine was to do a friendly and selfless act for another patient. The counselor was pleased as most of the other goals provided by other patients were unattainable such as 'my goal is to leave today'. I had a visit from my sister around one, and we cried a great deal together not being shamed that it was in the open for all to see, she said 'how could you ever think that I don't love you Moses?' because I told her I felt I had no one to turn to. She made me break down crying when she told me she remembered: 'how happy I was when you graduated from high school, how I cried because you were so happy that day and you had your whole future ahead of you, how I cried at home praying to God remembering you when you were little and we used to play dolls together, how I cried when I held your hand on your first day of kindergarten and you were scared, how I'd comfort you when you'd wake up crying and you thought no one else was in the house and that we'd all abandoned you because you were a bad son'. So we commisserated and she had brought me lunch which was junk food (I love junk food when I'm feeling down), I shared half of my food with the others so they all got a taste, and she had brought me some new changes of clothes which I was very appreciative for as well (it helped me be less anxious without hospital gown and the clothes I tried to kill myself in being only outfit). I did my selfless act for the day after she had gone by giving a warm green turtleneck sweater to Randy, a fellow suffer from Major Depressive Disorder(though his is the melancholic subtype, mine being the atypical subtype). Randy had the same last name as me, which brought a smile to his face, and he would watch me color and create artwork from then on, never interacting himself but just being pleased at viewing me at work. Randy can be described as such: a short stout older man with a wrinkled face and languid features, olive skinned, messy hair from sleeping most of the day, low shoulders, a confused look on his face, a permanent frown or pout on his face, that would occasionally be moved to smirk on one side, creating a curious Mona-Lisa like smile when he was pleased with something. I am glad he was pleased with the gift, and with the attention, as like the others, he didn't interact much with the other patients, and never received visitors and seemed to sleep most of the day and wait for it to pass by languidly. We shared some short conversations, as he was incredibly shy, but he joined in the art therapy sessions after seeing me draw and seeing how it helped my depression, so I'm glad to have had a positive effect on his condition. He also always chose to sit next to me when we had meals, so he was comforting to me and I was comforting to him in unspoken ways only depressed people can understand. After the kind gesture and hug I gave Randy, we formed the queue to eat lunch. It was a new server, whose name I never got, but he looked like an 'Armando' or a 'Arturo' for some reason to me, he was a former cholo, wearing short cropped hair under a hair net and wearing a blue smock with black short sleeve shirt and black slacks underneath it. I noticed him immediately because he was very attractive to me, he had a very sexy smirk and when he smiled you could see the dimples on his cheeks light up. I traded jokes with him for an especially long time, much to the irateness of Peter behind me, because I wanted to see more of that smile, he was quite bashful as well(the server) and would blush and look down when I complimented him (I love that in a person). Lunch was Fettucine Alfredo served with grilled shrimp instead of chicken, doused in garlic butter and liberally with parmesan cheese and pepper added by myself, served with a small bredstick and a side salad of small tomatoes, cucumber slices, romaine lettuce in vinaigrette dressing, and carrots. As I was eating lunch, with Alejandro across from me, Randy to my right, and Peter to my left, Peter overpowered the conversations of others and intruded into mine and Alejandro's convo in Spanish several times, asking if we were 'talking shit' about him behind his back. I told him not to be so conceited which put him into a silent mood as he pounded away at his lunch, asking for and getting seconds like in all meals, and never sharing with others nor making conversation or anything besides with me and Alejandro. After lunch I was getting to drawing and kept on getting interrupted, and having my precious concentration broken by Peter who wanted to keep on blathering some more since I was the only one unfortunate enough to be extroverted to some degree with him. He asked me to proofread and give my opinion on a script he'd been writing for youtube movies 'which I make all the time'. It was a short stupid rambling script about people trying to corner an animal to eat after an alien invasion, the alien invasion and any build up or background being denied by Peter in the first pages as is essential, and the situation was simply not compelling enough to film or to consider as part of anything other than D-Movie dialogue by a childlike mind. I gave him my honest opinion, which wasn't as harsh as that, but merely said, you need to brainstorm your ideas in a separate sheet, and provide depth to the situations before you start writing a script in one go like this, 'it simply isn't interesting' is what my comment amounted to. I was asked for an honest opinion and I gave it, not being subjected by the irritation of his intrusions on my creative work, I gave my honest and constructive criticism, and how he could ameliorate it. For the rest of the day, he was talking to nurses, to other patients, about how I was a 'jerk from Hollywood' who was 'incredibly mean to me', even included this delusional stance in his conversation with this father, who came to bring him sweets (which he shared with no one). Because Peter didn't have any clothes besides the hospital gown, and because his father didn't think to bring him something useful like a change of garments instead of sweets to the spoilt brat, I gave him a pair of my sweat pants and a baggy shirt that I had in my outfits (only five of which I gave three away). He didn't even say thank you, but I couldn't hear him complain any longer so I was like, 'here dude, wear this and shut the fuck up for five minutes about how awful it is here'. Having had more than I could stand of Peter for one day, I put on my headphones and set the volume to max, and took my pastels to the lounge room to work in some peace for a few hours. After seeing that Peter had gone to his room to lair as any beast or foul creature naturally would after such exertion of wit, I removed my headphones and made conversation back with other people in the lounge room. I introduced myself and made conversation with Charles, the fourth roommate back in the old room I was in (and the one I'd eventually move back into). Charles can be described as thus: A very tall man with a long face and rigid features, very expressive caramel brown eyes couched behind expensive looking frames, with neatly trimmed facial hair and short cropped brown hair molded into a conservative but tasteful hairstyle. He is slender and thin, but with once again features that immediately draw attention and with a gravely voice and a stone face like a statue most of the time. I don't know what he was in there for, likely Major Depressive Disorder with atypical subset like me, since we shared many similarities in action, and we found a lot to speak on about commisserating over lack of cigarettes or of being able to go outside regularly as we wished. He was a car salesman(was because his boss fired him when he got taken to the mental hospital after a drunken night on town), his wife served him divorce papers in the institution itself, and he was without recourse to combat legally the house he had worked thirty five years to pay for. His sons (whom he said were taller than him >_< unimaginable it seemed, these must be norse gods of some sort) didn't visit him, wouldn't respond kindly to his calls born of loneliness, and it seemed he'd gotten the shit-end of the stick after a lifetime of working hard and being an honest citizen. I felt very bad for him but I couldn't help him in his condition, only provide a listening ear and of course, partake in some conversation that was delightfully more rational and conventional than that with others there present. He seemed very lucid, but with a placid facade hiding the anger and despair of his conditions within those brown pools of eyes and with a brow that was forever furrowed as if in anguished and languid distress at his condition. He was very very very loathe to complain though, and he is one of the old type of generation in this country, that of proud workingmen and women who refuse to show their worries and proceed as if everything is proper and in order, and I respected him for the type of person that he is, even when he generalized about my generation being 'lazy, good-for-nothings', which I partially agree with in any case. Dinner arrived as we were in the midst of a conversation concerning particle physics and the recent discovery of the Higgs-Boson, and its relation to God if any, so we made our way to the queue to get a bite to eat. Dinner consisted of pork chops(which I gave away as I don't eat pork) and slices of potatos in some kind of meat broth which were delectable, along with a pint of milk (this time with a cow with its tongue sticking out and cross-eyed), and a fruit bowl with fresh strawberries and grapes. I ignored Peter even though he insisted on sitting next to me and telling me about his ideas to fund the movie (bake sales, carwashes, begging on the street to compile a budget for a somewhat passable short sci fi film is absurd, you need hundreds of thousands, and crowdsourcing if without a studio to back you, all of which I tried to explain to Peter, but he just kept on getting more irate). |
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| Cuba | 2 Feb 2014, 16:23 Post #33 |
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Unregistered
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After Dinner we had movie night, so there were movies leaning on the windows of the completely bulletproof glass encased nurse's booth which we had fifteen minutes to decide on. Peter was nowhere to be found. Everyone decided on 'The Perfect Storm' even though I didn't even watch it that night cause I was caught up observing something else which I'll get into next. In any case, when the nurse left the booth to put in the movie into the dvd tray by the tv, Peter had (I'd figure it out later when the commotion was heard outside, being the only one to go and check the others enthralled in the film) he had stuck his foot in the door and taken another DVD on the windowsill, gone to our room, broke the DVD in pieces, and started cutting himself. The nurses swarmed in and security from other wards of the hospital did as well, cordoning off the room and overpowering him as I watch leerily from the hallway. He was screaming about 'that damned prettyboy, everybody loves Moses but he's so mean!!!', so I naturally felt guilty even though I was only giving my opinion (a sugarcoated one at that, and even offered advice on funding it), and anyways, I got to saw for the first and last time, someone trying to make a run for the exit(which was steel reinforced) after Peter ripped off one of the ID cards with magnetic strip on it to open the door, he got as far as the second room of a three room security cordon, being tackled to the ground by orderlies and security and brought into a special single room(all glass panelling with no privacy) within the line of sight of the nurses booth, to be restrained, given a shot of heavy tranquilizers, and observed by staff the rest of the night. A nurse came to speak to me about it, and she had been observing Peter and said not to feel bad about it. 'He'll use any excuse to self-harm, don't take it personally'. She was a short curvaceous Kenyan woman with short hair, a heavy but lovely accented English, full purple lips, and a big ass even I took notice of(I mean big, like you can see it from the front). She wasn't fat though, just very very gifted by God lol, and had a wonderful sense of humor and tried to calm me down by getting me extra blankets and pillows. She was very sweet on me even before that day, and I think she kind of had a crush on me, not to be boastful or egoistic, but I do have that effect on people. I went to shower in Florencio's room since my roommate and I were removed from the room we were in because of potential health hazard from blood spilled there, and she showed up with extra towels and got quite an eyeful but like completely blushed and was laughing on the way down the hallway. We would exchange winks every now and then from that day on It was fun to flirt with her even though I'm gay, I like the attention and I loved her energy and her smile and just, how she was always upbeat and very tropical, very exotic, very me.After my shower I went to sleep back at the first room I stayed at, with my friends John, Alejandro, and Charles to try to get a night's rest after the eventful incident. They were still watching the movie so I got to go to sleep without hearing snores ![]() Day 4 So I wake up really really early today, because I'm getting my meeting with the doctor today (Dr Khan, who gave me the diagnosis of Major Depressive Disorder with atypical features, and who also asked me to take an HIV test because of the rape(s). I was frantic and crying at the possibility that I might have tried to kill myself only to fail and find out I was gonna die a slow painful death anyways, that I was worthless for you Tom, that you'd never even want to touch me. I was disconsolate and found misery loves company by talking to another patient up at the ungodly hours of 3 am, a nice girl named Mandi. Mandi can be described as thus: Latina or white, rose blond/brownish hair worn as a bob, plump and with nice features, but with a very upset disposition, walking like a zombie most of the time in the hallways, crying, pleading with the nurses to let her out. It turns out she was about to get married when her family institutionalized her for this emergency thing (in group I discovered it was because she was being violent towards others/she's bipolar), her form of mania was not productive however, as she was aimless and with deadened, literally with deadened and affectless eyes. We discussed missing our love, what we'd do if we got out to them, shared our sorrow in not having spoken to the people that we loved and not knowing whether we ever would because of the damn system that kept us in here. I was ultimately unable to comfort her though, or get her to laugh or smile, until the next day, last day, when she joined me in working on a puzzle and in coloring with pastels, finally cracking a smile since she was told she was leaving the same day as me. Over the night Cassandra had left, and the nurses told me she wanted to say bye to me but I was asleep, she said sharing my story of the rape and my history of homelessness, family dysfunction etc, yet still being somewhat well adjusted and articulate gave her hope, solidarity, and a person she could relate to and aspire to be. Since I hold a low self-worth of myself (outside of physical vanity) I couldn't believe it was true at the time, but I like the fact that she remembered me since she was somebody if who I would have spent more time with, would've been a best friend and a person to go to parties or clubs with and just let loose. She's a chill and bomb-ass chick and I hope she kicks the habit in rehab like she said she was gonna, I can tell she's gonna be a beautiful woman when she cleans up her life, because I liked her a lot and she deserves better than the abusive dicks she had been with. The hours passed as I traced over the old magazines I'd already read several times until time came for medication and breakfast, both of which I was starting to look forward to unlike life before being here. I noticed Peter had been let out of the isolation chamber and was now sleeping on a cot in front of the hallway leading to Florencio's private room. I was upset and anxious that he would try to hurt me as he did himself, so I asked for Attavan and they gave me a double-dose and I calmed down. I met several persons I hadn't introduced myself in the early hours of this day, who I'd seen around or whom I'd seen staring at me but not speaking. The first person I met in the early morning and introduced myself to was Joshua, a 28 year old schizophrenic patient with an agreeable disposition, he had curly brown hair and blue eyes and looked like someone from the 60s or 70s rather than from today, he had a very hairy chest and back and everything, which on occasion I could see through his hospital gown which he never changed out of until the last day I was there, when his parents visited and brought him new clothes. Joshua was very charming in spite of his condition, and he had a nice smile when I could get him to smile by cracking jokes. He joined me for about a half hour, sketching what looked like menacing faces and oblong faces with hard geometric features but no eyes or recognizable features. I took it that this was how he saw people around him through his mind's eye. In any case, we chatted whilst he did so, and he said that he had been 'processing me for a while now, and that I was clearly a frog', that his name was not Josh but 'Doctor Valentine' (>_< how cute), and that listening to music in a certain way could bring me 'the glow'. I didn't understand what he was trying to get at but he was nice to listen to and very softspoken and just was kind of dreamy and cute so I was like 'mmmhmmm, go on.... *flutters eyelashes*' Another schizophrenic patient, a paranoid one who'd been eyeing me since the first day, made her way to the table and watched me at work. I offered to share my supplies and draw with her and that she should join us but she just sat on a chair against the wall staring at me, turning to smile every so often as if trying to hide it. Later on in the day Peter told me she had a crush on me and had drawn a picture of me and taped it in her room, her name was Tasha. She was very quiet and shy lol, and shuffled back and forth between my room and hers as if wanting to ask me something, and would gravitate around as I drew like some other patients in the ward, and finally made conversation that day. She shared that she had been in an abusive relationship and that she started using drugs, but she seems to have developed psychosis as a result of what she was using, and she claimed that we knew each other in another life, that I was Adam and that she was Eve, and that 'that' meant something to her. I was just like 'ok....' and continued with my work trying not to lead her on anymore, but she had a definite crush on me and I liked the attention so I smiled at her every now and then as I'd see her in the hall. It turns out another reason Peter was angry with me was not just about criticism on his writing, but because he had crushes on both Cassandra and Tasha, and they both liked me instead of him, and because I made more of an effort to be likeable and introduced to many, he took it as an affront somehow... and from breakfast on I got the death stare from him which I totally ignored. Breakfast consisted of two eggs unscrambled and made in what appeared to be cookie cutters (yuk, but i still ate em anyways), some hash browns, and a slice of orange? 'Why so spartan?' I asked the confused Cuban lady who served breakfast, 'I dunno mijo...' Florencio again shared his breakfast with me, and gave me some sausage links he got, giving me half, I told him dude, you're to generous, but he was like nah man, have it. When I tried to put em back in his tray he gave me a death stare lol, like he was trying to say 'dude....eat em'. What a nice guy he was in spite of being so quiet and in pain and like sorrowful, he took a liking to me lol. I liked Florencio a lot because he seemed to most people like he was simple in the head and old and just in constant frown, but I guess he took a liking to me because I was the only one to engage him regularly beyond the staff, and although he couldn't get many words out, I talked to him about my life and stuff and I was like, I bet you had a pretty exciting life yourself Florencio, and he just smirked ![]() I made conversation with a blue eyed, blond, balding thirty something man with a paunch, he reminded me of Phil Collins from Genesis fame(he looked exactly like him o_0), and he would sometimes be in the lounge smoking a 'joint' or rather pretending to smoke his lip balm for dry lips, and puffing and passing. Me and Alejandro were both pot smokers so we were like especially LOLing when we saw this hahha, and we did the same with our lip balm, much to the bemusement of the gestapo/evil nurses on staff. Anyways, we were discussing Greek mythology of all things at the table, and quite a few of the other patients were joining in a running trivia game we had trying to figure out who was the god of what (he was really smart dude). He loved to smile and was like a really awesome guy, just very shy most of the times and slept a lot a lot, like the others in his room such as Randy. Randy was joining in too, despite his social anxiety, and I felt good because here we were having a conversation leagues above anything the nurses were discussing like where to get their haircut or some diet they were on. I gave this dude, whose name I never got, a pair of slacks and a long sleeve shirt, which made him look leagues cooler ![]() After breakfast we had our goals thing, mine was to relax, lol. The counselor said that was an alright goal to have, and I explained that it'd be a challenge for me because I was still waiting to hear back on whether either of the two bastards that raped me had given me HIV. After goals session we were (FINALLY) taken outside to the miniscule courtyard and given balls and frisbees. I played frisbeee with Charles who taught me how to throw an ace shot, he was a pro at frisbee, made the thing glide without shaking or moving from its determined path like a thing of beauty. After several dozen rounds of that, I played 'football' with some of the other patients until they got tired and it was only me and this really quiet girl playing. Her name was Cris/short for Cristina but she was a tomboy and she revealed to me that she had a crush on Michelle Rodriguez of LOST fame, and I revealed I had a crush on Justin Timberlake and we had LGBT bond in that sense hahaha. I loved that the only other gay person there was totally my opposite, she was very quiet and shuffled the hallways in her headphones, affectless most of the time, but she really opened up and looked happy when I played ball with her. I could tell she needed friends so I definitely included her a lot in my activities after that or if I was conversing with someone and she was near, I'd ask for her opinion. She was chill and lowkey, but dealing with Major Depressive Disorder in the melancholic subtype like Randy, so spent a lot of the day sleeping or tuning out. As I wound myself down and rested on the bench, I made conversation with Dana, a native american man who was an orderly/tech there and who was also a painter he showed me his exhibitions, one which he won first place in the local art fair for at the fairgrounds in ABQ, and I was deeply impressed and we traded info so as to collaborate outside. We had a very deep political discussion about capitalism, about white oppression of his people, about his history and his perspective as a native american, and how we are both outsiders to this superstructure because we're minorities. He was righteous and was defo one of my favorite persons. I'd describe him physically as this burly stout man with long hair tied in a pony tail, with very expressive and kind eyes, and like a great sense of humor and wonderful political opinions which were in line with my own. Of all the staff, he and another tech named Kenneth, Who always winked at me and had the cutest smile omg even tho he was married I could tell kenneth was flirting with me at times those two were my favorite of the staff. Dana got me color pencils, a glue stick, stamps and ink to work with, and got me special chocolates out of the supply cabinet cause we were cool like that, he was an awesome dude and I really felt sad to say bye to him cause I was like, omg, he's like my new best friend and he's a painter!!! ![]() We went inside around lunchtime and had some forgetabble lasagna and broccolli, both of which I once again doused with pepper to give it more flavor, with a pint of milk (this time with just a naturalistic representation of a cow :/ ), and some rice pudding (nummy nummy >_<). I ignored Peter once again, and he pissed me off by sitting next to me and not only that, but making a pass at me and trying to rub his hand on my groin. I didn't make a scene and I didn't say anything, cause I'm used to people using me like that, but I got very upset and just finished my food quickly so he couldn't keep on doing it. I ignored him even more and like, turned to the chair in the lounge room that was looking away from the central hall and rooms, and sketched some ravens that were outside with the color pencils Dana had procured for me, Peter comes in from behind, and says in my ear 'Im bisexual', I say 'so what?!' rather indignantly, and brush him off, which enraged him and he takes a color pencil from my pouch and stabs himself in the stomach and arm with it. The nurses rush in and so does security, and once again, I'm like 'why the fuck does this shit happen around me'. Its so totally not my fault, I don't have to like him back and he went about it the totally wrong, selfish, little shit child way he went about everything while he was there, which was to blame other people and take things and liberties which aren't his to have. How dare he? I said to myself...tuning up my headphones and watching as they escort him back to the bed in front of Florencio's room and sedate him with some heavy shit, he was out for a couple hours at least. And I was still getting double doses of anxiety meds for the anxiousness concerning the HIV test (I lied before(I didn't know if I was, I assumed I wasn't since I wasn't sick but there were occasions that like...omg...im worried you know), I really hadn't been tested until this occasion in hospital arose) and now this shit with this guy hurting himself and blaming it on me for not liking him, for criticizing his precious script and his stupid ideas omg. A thankfully uneventful afternoon passed, in which I received word that I was HIV Negative!!!! WOOO!!!! ok, I'm so glad that's cleared up, I was fucking dying worried about that. Anyways, after an uneventful afternoon my sister visited me around 7 pm and brought me a sketchbook with proper paper and some graphite pencils for shading, but they were taken away from me because of what stupid Peter had done, including my color pencils and ugh, I was so angry. She brought me some chocolate covered acai and blueberries which she made herself to try to cheer me up for being in there, we discussed how we would tell my mom (as in not tell her yet until we both visit her in person, as she's the type who'd be morose and blame herself for being bad mother to me), and like the whole time that was going on, even Mary noticed it, fucking Peter was mooning us with his ass crack showing the whole time I got my visit. This stupid fuck I thought to myself, while my sis told me to calm down, and she hugged me and left and I told her I'd received word I was leaving the next day which she was super happy to hear as I was that afternoon for both reasons of HIV negative status and the release being given the next day. Anyways, Peter 'wakes up' after everyone leaves, and makes a scandal about why he didn't get chocolates from me when I gave them to the rest of the patients a little bit out of my bag, almost leaving none for myself, and I told him 'because you're a selfish fuck dude'. he complained about how he was being treated differently and how the nurses 'loved Moses even though he's mean to me' and was belly-aching about why he had to sleep in hallway unlike the other patients. I told the nurses and him, in one of the rare conversations with both, that he could have my bed in my room and that I'd take that bed in the hallway since I don't really care, 'I don't want to hear anymore complaining from you about me or near me, so just dude, take it and go to sleep and be quiet'. He goes off in a storm, saying 'Thanks!' in a way as if he hadn't been an insufferable shit to me and horribly rude to my sister by having her see his backside, so I followed him into my former room, to get my stuff out of the cubby and take my pillow and blanket, and I told him, 'Now that we're alone dude, I'm gonna tell you something'. I didn't get close to him or get aggressive as I would have liked to, because of the situation we were in, and because I still pitied him somewhat for being simple yet hated him for being knowledgeable enough to know right and wrong and disregard it anyways, and I told him, 'Look Peter, if we were in any other situation, I would beat you to a bloody pulp for acting SO rudely in front of my sister and mooning me and her. She's a woman and you need to show some respect around her, how dare you think I wouldn't say anything? Just know that if you disrespect me or my family like that again, whether I get put in a worse institution or locked up, I will kick the ever loving shit out of you! Did you hear me?!' and I stormed out with my shit to go sleep in the hallway. An hour into my sleep I'm awoken by the sounds of the alarm going off again, this time Peter was bashing his head against the wall and upsetting John, Charles, and Alejandro with his BS, and they came to take him away in restraints to the east wing of the mental hospital, where the patients are under one on one surveillance at all times, and are restrained to a bed at all times. He claimed that 'I had touched him in his private parts' and that it had been that which had upset him, I found this out an hour later, when again, awoken from my sleep, I'm taken out to courtyard area to talk to three policemen.'Do you know why we're here?' 'No, what's up?' 'Do you know who Peter is?' 'Yes' 'Did you touch his private parts?' 'No' 'Ok we're done here' And I get taken back inside and talked to by Hanna, the Kenyan nurse and John, a cute bear looking Pharmacist who'd seen the whole thing go down and who knew Peter very well from previous time he was there. And Both were like, out of character, saying you know 'that boy is impossible'. I told em 'how the fuck could he say I would do something horrible like that just to get back at me....omfg....like I can't believe the lengths he'd go to to fuck with me'. John was himself quite upset about this affecting me so strongly, and I got tranquilized myself because I couldn't control the constant anxiety, not because I was uncontrollable like Peter but because I simply couldn't rest and couldn't stop crying. It happened to me so why the fuck, how the fuck would I do that to someone. This guy just wanted me to be with him so bad he fuckin....omg....im getting angry right now thinking about it, and I just like had to be knocked out of my senses. Day 5 I met with Dr Khan again in the morning, who came to the ward to check up on everyone, he took my blood pressure personally and gave me a prescription for Zoloft/Sertraline (150 mg) and Trazadone (100 mg), and informed me that I would be leaving today after having asked me one last time 'Are you thinking of hurting yourself?', I answered with a resolute 'NO', and I was on my way to call my sis to pick me up. In my last hours I made more poems to pin on the board about my experience there, said goodbye to all the patients who'd become my friends, some like John and Florencio I was very sad to leave and just like, I dunno, I felt so bad for them. Here I am getting out and they're still here. I felt like I did in jail, when I left buddies I made in there behind and it feels like wht was my life for a short time is being ripped away, thats how close I became to people there. It was tough saying bye to Anna the art instructor and Dana as well, and Kenneth smiled and kept on joking and keeping my spirits up, but I gave away most of my stuff you know, any money I had on me I gave to the others to buy themselves a treat from the snack machine and I was just sad and immensely happy to see my sister again and hug her the hardest I've ever hugged her in my life and walk out of that place. Man I was so glad. The nurses even were like cheering and I looked back and gave em a wink. 'Everything's gonna be alright' I seemed to say with that wink to Kenneth and Dana, and I walked out proudly. I was further stressed out because I thought they'd lost my keys and wallet in the admission area of the hospital (another section) but they eventually found em and I got the hell out of that place as quick as I could LOL. I had a smoke which I'd been dying for lol omg I wanted a smoke so badly this past week it's crazy, and I was just like looking up at the sky, looking at the clouds, at the trees, at people in their normal routine a different way, in the same way like when I'd gotten out of jail. I was just like "WOOOOOO!!!'' fuck yeah!!! I went with my sister to pick up my prescriptions (provided for free by the University hospital :P) and we went to go have a big meal at this place called 'Cracker Barrel' OMG I ate real food!!! I ate every bite lol, I even ate all the biscuits and asked for a second refill lol, and I had dessert and I never have dessert lol. What I dined on was a piece of divine fried chicken with real breading that crumbled and was crunchy layering itself over the delicate, moist, rich, falls-off-the-bone-its-so-good white chicken meat, served with cheddar macarroni and cheese and some potatoes au gratin, cornbread, two drinks of lemonade with rasberries mixed in mmm, and a slice of devlishly good apple pie that was scrumptious and mouthwatering to the last bite. It's the best meal I've had in a long time. Then I got back home, took my meds and knocked out, I did read your email before I fell asleep, but decided I was too worked up/out of it to respond then. In any case, that's the story of my past week... Again, thank you so much, I love you more than I can possibly ever state or show, I long for the day I get to meet you so I can see and touch my hero with my own hands. Forever yours, Moses |
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| Lemur Isles | 2 Feb 2014, 20:20 Post #34 |
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Charter Member
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I'm very glad that you are ok Moses. Thank you for sharing your story too. My heart goes out to you, and everyone else in the ward, even Peter. Despite how someone might appear on the exterior, you never know what kind of a tortured soul lies on the inside. It's really cool that you recognised this, and still tried to be nice. Again, thanks for sharing. |
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| Kryftland | 2 Feb 2014, 21:57 Post #35 |
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"Debater"
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I am happy to know that you are alright. Your words are beautiful and brought a tear to my eye. |
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He was sweet, the only time I saw him aggressive was with the nurses whom he found abominable for many reasons (certain nurses are kind and sympathetic, others would force him back to his room, in constant pain for the rest of the night, without medication because they couldn't understand him, which enraged me), and another instance where he was aggressive was when Alejandro's bipolar disorder made him lash out at the nurses (he was determined to leave, and like me had been arrested and brought in, which enraged him) and at the other patients, he said 'I fucking hate you, you, you, you' pointing to the nurses and to all the patients, and Florencio in his simple state didn't understand that it was just Alejandro's(or Axel as he prefers to be called :D) defensive nature and that he was simply afraid and lashing out. They had to put Alejandro to sleep with tranquilizers that day, and Florencio was separated from him because he lunged at Alejandro looking for a fight. For an old and sickly man, Florencio is a brave dude, wanting to take on a young strong man like Alejandro. I respect that a lot.
It was fun to flirt with her even though I'm gay, I like the attention and I loved her energy and her smile and just, how she was always upbeat and very tropical, very exotic, very me.

12:15 AM Jul 11