deepundergroundpoetry.com

Me Part 2 (and the Ward)

I have a super crazy memory.
I can remember things from when I was two.
I don't know if it is a gift or a curse.
I remember all the little details.
Everything.
Guess it depends on what I am remembering whether it is good or bad.
Now the cat is out of the bag - or so to speak...
You know I was on an adolescent psychiatric ward -
well, because I was a teen, being stupid, being a teen.
To understand the real difference this place made
I have to tell you a little about the stay.
My first night.
After I get wheeled to my semi-private room
(yep - everybody had a roommate)
I am left in the common area.
To do absolutely nothing.
Everyone was on the "friday night out"
Meaning the other kids and several staff had gone to the mall and a movie.
So, to kill the time I picked up a notebook.
In it was this weird agenda about wrap-up time, something called a "warm fuzzy"
and a whole lot of complaints about the food.
Not what I wanted to see.
Especially some guys rant about a hair in his "taters."
When I finally get to meet the others - I am sulking on the enclosed balcony,
I hear a commotion and in came the motliest crue I have ever seen.
This one guy fast walks over to me and says
"You look like you like poetry. Do you like poetry? I write poetry. You just look like you write poetry."
Only it came out sounding like this
"You wook wike you wike poetwy, do you wike poetwy?"
You get the idea.
But here's the thing - the guy was dead on right.
To this day I have no idea how "Wobert" (Robert) knew.
He left just a couple of days after I arrived.
I bet if he had stayed we would have been really good friends
and had some really crazy conversations.
I often times wonder whatever happened to him...
So after they all run over and stare at me, they call for evening "wrap-up."
My thoughts at that moment?
I was thinking "if anyone tries to throw something warm and fuzzy my way, there will be hell to pay up in this place."
Turns out, much to my relief, that a warm fuzzy is alot of nice thoughts and good vibes you give to someone that has had a bad day.
Just a cool, although strange, way to tell someone they are cared about.
A warm fuzzy works wonders after a really bad day.
Especially in a psych ward.
Feeling apprehensive and not liking the looks of my roommate,
I did not want "lights out."
I wanted to sit on the balcony.
And sulk. Feel sorry for myself.
Wallow in self pity.
Convince myself I was a victim.
Held hostage against my will.
So I did what any hostage would do and made a break for it.
Guess what. Turns out the doors stay locked 24/7.
And let me tell you - they DO NOT move an inch, no matter how fast you run for it.
I got a really nice bruised shoulder and an "escort" to my room.
That's not all.
I also had my entire bed rolled out into the common area.
So I could sleep in front of the nurses station.
They called it suicide watch.
Wow.
My first night and I am on display in the common area because I was stupid.
It was this night I met a sweet little old lady - she was the 3rd shift nurse and her nickname was Nannie.
She brought me a glass of milk and a peanut butter sandwich and sat with me.
She never said a word.
Never asked me anything.
But the look she gave me said I wasn't the first to try and break free.
The look also told me that now I should absolutely know why the doors stay locked.
Win for Nannie.
But looking in her eyes also told me that she was doing this job because she truly wanted to help kids.
And I was right.
Nannie will never know the impact she had on me.
She was already past retirement age.
She was still there when I finally left the place for good.
The day I walked out of the ward for the final time - I never saw her again.
That was many years ago.
I imagine Nannie is in Heaven right now - helping somebody.
Maybe even giving them a glass of milk and a sandwich cause she just knows they need it. (I just can't imagine her doing that because somebody tried to make a break for it from Heaven)
Sometimes, saying nothing is the best way to say the most.
I actually went to sleep.
Good thing.
Because the next morning, bright and early, I was jolted out of sleep by one of the counselors as he wheeled my bed, with me still in it, back to the room and "accidentally" ran into the door.
At 6:00 am. In the morning.
I was in for more than I could have imagined.

Written by cnbsoulmates
Published
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