So… step out of the shower
& hear a knocking on my bedroom door.
Guess who? The COPS.
For ME? Ain’t I sumthin’?
You really shouldn’t have…
REALLY.
Why, hello there. Welcome to my humble abode, officers.
So, I address their concerns and state that I know my legal rights.
They have NO right to take me to the hospital against my will. NONE.
Apparently, my rights have been completely stripped…
No right to hear why I’m being handcuffed.
No right to a lawyer.
No rights at ALL.
So, I’m no lawyer, but I don’t think having a mental illness makes rights nonexistent, am I right?!
I mean, how messed up is THAT, a person has no rights because he or she is SICK?
SERIOUSLY??!
I CALL BULLSH*T.
So… that made just about as much sense as this logic… ^^
Just because you call me crazy or suicidal or a risk to myself doesn’t mean
I AM A DANGER TO MYSELF OR OTHERS, SO GOOOO AWAYYYYYYY…
BUT, NO.
HANDCUFFS, POLICE CAR, & 72 HR HOLD AGAINST MY WILL IS INEVITABLE.
SO MESSED UP…
Which is quite the experience, believe me…
trying to hold it together when it feels like you have no control over your life…
or even any legal rights…
and are living out your worst nightmare of being
COMPLETELY STRIPPED
OF COPING MECHANISMS,
YOUR SUPPORT NETWORK,
YOUR CHANCE AT HAPPINESS,
AND YOUR FREEDOM.
There are people who are TRYING TO GET INTO THIS HOSPITAL,
desperate for care,
and here I am taking their spot…
this girl who does NOT NEED SEVEN DAYS OF HOSPITALIZATION,
this girl who you are actually DRIVING INTO A MIXED MANIC STATE,
this girl who knows that you will just push unwanted drugs her way and force her to take them,
this girl who is terrified of living a life treated like a criminal rather than a patient,
this girl who would rather not exist than live such a life.
So… I didn’t pretend to be crazy.
I cooperated.
Truly.
But, the hospital staff at UNCH was really starting to piss me off…
I mean, dearest nurse,
if you are labeling me as ‘SUICIDAL’,
then WHY THE HELL ARE YOU ATTACKING ME FOR BEING ‘SUICIDAL’??
You are verbally abusive and cruel.
Go get another job, you condescending b*tch.
I mean, I am living out my worst nightmare and you are attacking me for no reason.
I DON’T EVEN BELONG HERE.
LET ME OUT.
BUT NO, PLEASE DO CONTINUE TO BE VERBALLY ABUSIVE…
TO THE ‘SUICIDAL’ PATIENT…
THAT’S FINNNNNEEEEEEEEEE…
THEN, there are the staff members on the complete, COMPLETE opposite side.
Are you trying to play ‘good cop, bad cop’ with me?
Don’t interrogate me. That’s NOT okay.
Don’t fill me with false hope when it feels like my entire world is falling apart.
Don’t lie to me. Everything will NOT “be okay.”
Being monitored 24/7 by staff and cameras is EXHAUSTING,
especially when you are trying very hard to appear what they would deem “normal”,
“not manic”,
“not depressed”…
in a “safe”, “normal” range of behavior.
Like, doc, you don’t even KNOW what my “normal” is.
Let me go. NOW.
Doctors see patients LITERALLY for maybe FIVE MINUTES per day.
Like, why the hell am I even in the hospital, then?
What is the point?!
Don’t act like you are GOD and can have me figured out within five minutes.
Don’t underestimate me.
I’m complex.
I’m multi-faceted.
I essentially have portions of the DSM-5 memorized,
and can fake my way in or out of any diagnosis.
Try behavioral assessments? I see RIGHT THROUGH them.
Try monitoring my behavior? I am aware of EXACTLY what you are analyzing me for and how…
Try me. I dare you. My #1 skill is manipulation and my IQ is several standard deviations above the norm.
Do you know how tiring it is to realize how easily you can manipulate a room full of doctors and psychiatrists? It’s pathetic… really…
From what I see… none of you know what you are doing
and might as well be called “psychics” rather than doctors…
so get off of your high horses, you M.D.s…
and LISTEN to your patients…
for ONCE.
Damn straight, that’s right. 😉
So, doctors cannot even agree on which med is best…
because APPARENTLY you need stuff.
STRONG STUFF. LITHIUM LEVEL STRONG STUFF.
Doctors are like… hm… you are broken… I can fix you…
& I’m like NO.
Doctors don’t know what the hell they are doing…
I’m not about to trust a doctor with a TOXIN
with a SMALL therapeutic window that can easily KILL ME. NO.
Why so “stubborn”? SERIOUSLY? SERIOUSLYYY?!
Go back to med school and learn some people skills, doc.
So far, any HELP I have received has hurt more than anything… it’s a shame.
Also, if I am “suicidal”, why would you give me pills I can easily kill myself with?
That seems very, VERY stupid.
But, you do you, doc… you do you…
Also, seriously DOCS… what the HELL are you doing ALL DAY LONG?
WHERE ARE YOU?
I SEE YOU FOR FIVE MINUTES,
YOU ARE THE ONE WHO HAS THE POWER TO RELEASE ME…
AND YOU DON’T EVEN SEE ME AT ALL.
LIKE, WUT…?
Also, there is not a single therapist available. Talk about a shitty psychiatric facility.
Just drug me.
Like, THAT’S FINE.
DRUG ME INTO SUBMISSION AND A FALSE SENSE OF HAPPINESS… -_-
ALSO, nursing students are infinitely more nice than med students…
just sayin’…
So done with the f*cked up system.
Time to shake things up…
BIG TIME.
FREEDOM FEELS SIMPLY SPLENDID, DOCTOR DEARESTS.
Hope to never see you again, DOC.
The Calculating Mind 