>>7555099Next morning. Tired. Caffeine withdrawal.
I try to call the two numbers again, but to no avail. one number is in the UK. It's a lost cause until I get a calling card and I know that. The one in another state, I convince the nurse is very important. I lie about how I know this person, but after a day I do reach him and can talk for a few minutes.
That day I learn each person's name, and what made them go batshit. About half of the people, I learn, tried to kill themselves but really expected to fail and end up hospitalised. Another quarter did so many drugs it was considered suicidal. The rest were homicidal, making various threats and thoroughly terrifying me. The ward, they explained, was for 12 to 22 and had different rules from other wards. It was higher security than drug-addiction or eating-disorder wards and had more staff per person. I was shy at first about why I was there. I had never spoken before about it.
I remember a lot of people had been in and out of various facilities for a while, and this disturbed me. I don't belong here, and I am never coming back.
They gave me a lot of worksheets about feelings and stuff. One of the therapists there everyday, she was named Erika, but I called her Soul Nurse because she thought I was having an existential crisis. She showed me websites about new-age soul-life-energy theories and thought I was the most cynical person ever. She asked me to do a lot of weird writings for her; a manifesto, an explanation of nihilism, several other philosophical explorations, and quite a few random things. She asked if she could photocopy the writings. I agreed to sign the papers letting her do this, because legally she couldn't do much with them anyway.
(con't)
