The psych ward

Both sides now

Chapter 8

I’ve looked at life from both sides now. The good, the bad and the ugly. That cold numb feeling of nothing to the ecstatic feeling of being on the stage. Either way it’s a feeling if it’s nothing.

When I was on the stage as Joseph in that February did I expect that I would be in a mental hospital by October that same year. The answer is no. The sedating edge it gave me, the cold mornings with a blanket as thin as tissue. Saying bye to my parents each day wishing I was watching strictly with them. No one ever expects to be in mental hospital. It wasn’t in my plan. I suppose no one plans to end up there.

I chose to go in there though after numerous home visits that didn’t work I was seeing them every day after my attempt and nothing worked. A bed cake up and my I was umming and arring and something in my head said maybe you need this.

My mum drove me with my little bag packed with just a pair of pants and some extra strong mints and a toothbrush as I was convinced I was going to only stay a night. As they unlocked the heavy bolted door there was truly no going back. How did I feel being in there. I felt nothing. No fear, no sadness just numb. My mum left and I could tell she was upset. Suddenly I was surrounded by so many people but I never felt so alone. I knew they wanted to help me and I suppose they did, but all I could think was I want to go home.

In total I was in there for a week. I tried to get released every day and they were having none of it. They lured me to stay as I was always in denial it was mental health I was convinced it was a physical illness.

They told me they would do many physical checks which they did but I soon cake to realise that wasn’t their priority. I thought they wanted to tell me I was mad. That wasn’t the case.

On the first night I stood in line for my first bout of my cocktail in a little paper cup doused down with ice cold water. I had no idea what I had taken. I just put it in me and hoped it helped me sleep.

That night was scary, cold and lonely. I pulled my thin paper sheet over me and put my eye mask and every 15 minutes I was checked to see I hadn’t done anything to myself. It was awful. I got up and begged to get out and they refused. They gave me diazepam to help me sleep. At around 6 am I fell asleep and opened my eyes at 7am to a bang on my door wi a paper cup ready to feed me more drugs. And all I thought was is this my life now?

The coming days grew harder to cope………..