The only good thing

I’m in the psych ward, again. This time it’s four different reason. I was baker acted. That means I’m not allowed to let myself out. I’m a prisoner, but with more constructions. Remember “Catch 22” by Joseph Heller. Fish out of water. I’m a same person in an insane world, literally.

It took away my shoelaces, and I have difficulty tying my shoes let alone relacing them. They use one kind of soap for everything the stuff we brush our teeth with, the stuff we put in the washing machine, the stuff we use in the shower and bath is all the same stuff. Mono, purpose what a bargain The only good thing about this fucking place is the women are not allowed to wear bra because women tried to hang themselves with their under wires so we can see everyone’s tits. Some of the people are here because they’re high on drugs. Some of us are here because we’re suicidal. I’m here because I was baker acted. Assholes. I can only call my psychiatrist, my pastor, in certain numbers, they allow us to call which they have on a sheet of paper like for legal council. Wonder if a lawyer could get me out of here

I’ve talked to people like the staff and they said we’re allowed to leave anytime we want if we sign the AMA forms. AMA stands for against medical advice. But where would I go? How would I eat warehouse? Do I have? For right now until I get someone to let me live in a place like maybe a halfway house I need to stay here. Hell, some of the women are wearing white thin shirts, so why not? Oh yes, I didn’t tell you about the food. Dog food taste better than this crap. They have to make sure the food is good for everyone if somebody has high cholesterol high blood pressure has gluten sensitivity, etc. that they can still eat this food. I don’t think a dog would eat this food. They smell it go back-and-forth and mark their territory because that’s all this food is good for and then when we ate this because there’s nothing else to eat they have the balls to ask if anybody wants seconds. Yum Yum.

There’s a social worker, there’s a psychiatrist, there’s a doctor to prescribe medication‘s. People here have bipolar disorder, dissociative identity disorder, alcoholism, narcotics, masochists, sex addicts, and every other disorder you can imagine. But we’re all disabled in somewhere or another. Someone who wears glasses as a disorder. Someone on any medication technically has a disorder.

Yet they’re not in the psych ward, we are.

There’s a metal detector when anyone enters this place, including us. They do a full body scan, including our genitals because whatever we’re hiding drugs or weapons in our genitals? And I didn’t talk about blood pressure. It’s 6 AM it’s time to take your blood pressure. My blood pressure is fine. Is 8 AM it’s time to take your blood pressure at 10 AM 12 PM every two hours. What do they think would happen to my blood pressure within two hours yes or blood pressure changes a little bit from the morning to the evening, but once a day at most. Oh, and we’re not allowed to do normal things that human beings do because what if we use these objects to hurt ourselves. They give us slippers because we can’t have shoelaces because whatever if we use the shoelaces to hang ourselves. We can’t shave because what if we use the razor blade just let her throats. We have no electronic devices because what if we put them in the bathtub to try to electrocute ourselves make you know that we taking our clothes up because whatever we use that to hang ourselves great this will be a nudist resort. Am I allergic to any medication always say I’m allergic to vitamin H because I don’t wanna get vitamin H. Bad side effects. We can only have a little bit of clothes in here because this is not a place to stay permanently, thank God. At least I hope it’s not. Doctor can give us medication if we need it but almost everything has side effects. I can’t sleep because I have insomnia in this place makes it worse crazy people screaming at the top of their lungs because they’re seeing things at 2 AM.

The best thing to do is to lie. Who knows maybe I’m lying to you the reader right now cause that’s what the other crazy people tell me but they’re right. If you leave here today, what would you do? If people tell the truth, they keep us here, so we learn to lie. I’ll enjoy time with my family. I’ll pay my bills. I won’t harm myself. I won’t harm anyone else. I’ll see my psychiatrist go to the Alcoholics Anonymous meetings or narcotics anonymous meetings. I’ll do whatever I have to say that I’ll do to get the hell out of here. And then when I get out of here, I’ll do the things. I said I wouldn’t do to get off of planet earth. I would put her in a different reason than that though. My family didn’t feel safe with me living in their home something I said or wrote. I don’t remember. That should tell you something. There’s no place like home, thank God.

I’m not sure where I’m gonna go once I’m released or if I’m released. The thing is the people who baker acted me are more insane than I am or as the expression goes the coal calling the kettle black.

There’s a joke someone told me: this man has a flat tire and he tries to put the temp on so it takes the lug nuts out to remove the regular tire and they rolled down the hill and fall into the sewer. The main curses and says what the hell am I gonna do now? Any here someone from the psych ward across the street say take one lug out of each of the other tires and put it in there and that will get you fixed until you can get to a mechanic and the man does this and it works and the main ass if you’re so smart what are you doing in the psych ward? And the man says I’m crazy. I’m not stupid.