Past the Point of No Return
We're still unclear on what caused me to break. As I asserted earlier, everyone has his or her own idea on it, but no one knows for sure. Let's go back to the interview with the psychiatrist at the hospital. It went something like this:
"So, Doctor Knight, you've been suffering from migraines and nausea?"
*Is this a statement or a question?
**Look where we are! I told you talking to that bastard would do us no good!
*I mean it. Is that a statement or question?
**Damnit, it's a question, but don't answer it!
I went against my better judgment. "Uh, yes. I'm sure its just stress…"
**What the hell was that?
*Screw it!
**Fuck you.
***Stop it, both of you!
"Are you on any medications, Doctor Knight?"
"Call me Lucy, I prefer it."
**Damnit, what it this?
*Oh, you're to stressed out.
**I'm looking out of our safety!
*SHUT UP!
"Lucy."
"Uh, something for pain after my attack, I forget to take it a lot though."
*Lie!
**Good Going!
"Attack?" He flipped through my chart.
"Uh yeah. It's kinda a painful memory. I don't really want to go through it."
"That's what I here for."
*Tell him…
**No, don't. Don't go through the pain again!
*Tell him…
I explained the attack, trying not to cry when I got to the part about Carter. He looks up from the chart.
"Paul Sobriki? He's patient here, you know?"
No, I didn't. Does that mean I'm as bad as him? "Oh really?"
**Oh God, they want to put you with a killer!
*He's probably in solitary confinement.
**Where do you think they'll put her!
*They won't put her in solitary confinement!
**Oh yeah, just watch!
"But back to business. Have you been feeling anything other than migraines?
**Damnit, listen to me…
"Well, I've been mixing up voices, and um, lights look different," I explained. I don't really know why. I guess I was between Scylla and Charybdis. Like when an armadillo is rolled onto his back, and he now has no protection.
He nodded and excused himself. He returned with some forms to fill out. Then they took me to a padded room.
"This won't be forever," Kerry began, "just for starters. They'll move you to the ward in a few days."
"What do I have?"
"Just thing of what got you here." I didn't see her for another three years.
------------------------
I had time to think over my life in solitary confinement. At first it was just shock. I didn't understand how I could have ever gotten here. I decide it was from lack of sleep, and so for the first forty-eight hours, I tried to sleep as much as I could. When that didn't work, I just sat there. I wished I could have made observing me more interesting, but I had no idea what to do. I guess they were just waiting for me to scream and yell. But I could never speak very loud, since I had that trac put in while I was in surgery after the attack. I really couldn't comprehend what was going on. I was really tired. It's like when you have to write a story for Creative Writing class which you space, then you have write it at two in the morning. Your characters are all tired, and a lot of them sleep all the time. Well, the author who was writing my life was very tired, and so was I. I just lay there, playing with my hair. I had nothing else to do, no one to talk to, so I just played with my hair and listened to my inner voices.
The inner voices. Yeah, now that I think about it, I think they were the things that sent me off the deep end. Sometimes people will come up to me while I'm at work and they'll say, "So, what was it like to go crazy?" Then I'll flinch, because I hate to hear "crazy" in a sentence. Then they'll say something like: "Oh, I'm sorry." But they're not. Then I tell them about my experiences. If I have time. I'll tell them about the inner voices. That's to freak them out. They'll think, I hear inner voices, maybe I'm crazy! I laugh at those people. Their "inner voice" is their conscience. I'm afraid most people need one of those. The inner voices aren't always bad, and sometimes you can ignore them. When you can't, then you need to worry. The problem was, I didn't. You see; had I informed someone of my "condition" I might not have ended up where I am right now. I might have been able to be helped, and I wouldn't have gone crackers.
Did you ever notice how many different ways there are to say, "gone crazy?"
It's like being in someone else's reality in a mental hospital. If a doctor says, "take your meds" you do, most of the time. If the nurses say, "go to bed" you do, even if you don't want to. You're controlled; you don't have much of a free will. You go to lunch at lunchtime; you go to sleep at bedtime. It's very difficult to explain, unless of course you've experienced it first hand. It's like when you're in grade school. Then you do whatever the teacher says. But often that's because you want to. We don't have a choice. Someone else's reality is our life and we're just conjured images that that someone can control.
------------------------
When do you know you've past the "Point of No Return?"
You know when you've settled into your routines, you've been accepted into some "circle" and you don't feel that this is such a shock.
We're still unclear on what caused me to break. As I asserted earlier, everyone has his or her own idea on it, but no one knows for sure. Let's go back to the interview with the psychiatrist at the hospital. It went something like this:
"So, Doctor Knight, you've been suffering from migraines and nausea?"
*Is this a statement or a question?
**Look where we are! I told you talking to that bastard would do us no good!
*I mean it. Is that a statement or question?
**Damnit, it's a question, but don't answer it!
I went against my better judgment. "Uh, yes. I'm sure its just stress…"
**What the hell was that?
*Screw it!
**Fuck you.
***Stop it, both of you!
"Are you on any medications, Doctor Knight?"
"Call me Lucy, I prefer it."
**Damnit, what it this?
*Oh, you're to stressed out.
**I'm looking out of our safety!
*SHUT UP!
"Lucy."
"Uh, something for pain after my attack, I forget to take it a lot though."
*Lie!
**Good Going!
"Attack?" He flipped through my chart.
"Uh yeah. It's kinda a painful memory. I don't really want to go through it."
"That's what I here for."
*Tell him…
**No, don't. Don't go through the pain again!
*Tell him…
I explained the attack, trying not to cry when I got to the part about Carter. He looks up from the chart.
"Paul Sobriki? He's patient here, you know?"
No, I didn't. Does that mean I'm as bad as him? "Oh really?"
**Oh God, they want to put you with a killer!
*He's probably in solitary confinement.
**Where do you think they'll put her!
*They won't put her in solitary confinement!
**Oh yeah, just watch!
"But back to business. Have you been feeling anything other than migraines?
**Damnit, listen to me…
"Well, I've been mixing up voices, and um, lights look different," I explained. I don't really know why. I guess I was between Scylla and Charybdis. Like when an armadillo is rolled onto his back, and he now has no protection.
He nodded and excused himself. He returned with some forms to fill out. Then they took me to a padded room.
"This won't be forever," Kerry began, "just for starters. They'll move you to the ward in a few days."
"What do I have?"
"Just thing of what got you here." I didn't see her for another three years.
------------------------
I had time to think over my life in solitary confinement. At first it was just shock. I didn't understand how I could have ever gotten here. I decide it was from lack of sleep, and so for the first forty-eight hours, I tried to sleep as much as I could. When that didn't work, I just sat there. I wished I could have made observing me more interesting, but I had no idea what to do. I guess they were just waiting for me to scream and yell. But I could never speak very loud, since I had that trac put in while I was in surgery after the attack. I really couldn't comprehend what was going on. I was really tired. It's like when you have to write a story for Creative Writing class which you space, then you have write it at two in the morning. Your characters are all tired, and a lot of them sleep all the time. Well, the author who was writing my life was very tired, and so was I. I just lay there, playing with my hair. I had nothing else to do, no one to talk to, so I just played with my hair and listened to my inner voices.
The inner voices. Yeah, now that I think about it, I think they were the things that sent me off the deep end. Sometimes people will come up to me while I'm at work and they'll say, "So, what was it like to go crazy?" Then I'll flinch, because I hate to hear "crazy" in a sentence. Then they'll say something like: "Oh, I'm sorry." But they're not. Then I tell them about my experiences. If I have time. I'll tell them about the inner voices. That's to freak them out. They'll think, I hear inner voices, maybe I'm crazy! I laugh at those people. Their "inner voice" is their conscience. I'm afraid most people need one of those. The inner voices aren't always bad, and sometimes you can ignore them. When you can't, then you need to worry. The problem was, I didn't. You see; had I informed someone of my "condition" I might not have ended up where I am right now. I might have been able to be helped, and I wouldn't have gone crackers.
Did you ever notice how many different ways there are to say, "gone crazy?"
It's like being in someone else's reality in a mental hospital. If a doctor says, "take your meds" you do, most of the time. If the nurses say, "go to bed" you do, even if you don't want to. You're controlled; you don't have much of a free will. You go to lunch at lunchtime; you go to sleep at bedtime. It's very difficult to explain, unless of course you've experienced it first hand. It's like when you're in grade school. Then you do whatever the teacher says. But often that's because you want to. We don't have a choice. Someone else's reality is our life and we're just conjured images that that someone can control.
------------------------
When do you know you've past the "Point of No Return?"
You know when you've settled into your routines, you've been accepted into some "circle" and you don't feel that this is such a shock.
