The Crazy Chronicles, Part 3: Down The Rabbit Hole

Welcome to nowhere and finding out where it is
And fixing your problems and starting over again - Shinedown, "In Memory"


Sunday, 6 a.m.

"Crystal?"

I opened my eyes and caught my breath. I had forgotten, for a moment, where I was. An unfamiliar face loomed over me.

"I'm Kristen. We need to get a urine sample, your blood pressure and then it's time for breakfast," she said. "I understand you got in pretty late so if you want to come back after breakfast and try to nap, you can."

Kristen left to give me a moment of privacy. I sat on the side of the bed and glanced at my roommate. She was still a lump under the blankets.

I rifled through my clothes to find some socks, slipped on my shoes and turned the light on over the mirror. I looked like I felt: hollowed out and barely there. When I turned away from my reflection, my roommate was standing behind me, looking at me in the strangest way.

"Jennifer...it's Jennifer, right?" I asked.

"Dawn."

"I'm sorry, they told me..." I trailed off, uncertain.

"Jennifer is my first name. I go by Dawn."

"Oh. I tried to be quiet. I'm sorry if I woke you last night."

She stared long enough to make me squirm and then wordlessly walked into the bathroom.

"Well, that was pleasant, Crystal. You'll be a fucking hit by lunch time," I mumbled as I headed for the front desk.

After blood pressure, blood samples and urine specimens, I fell into line and listened to roll call. We shuffled to the cafeteria and I found myself wondering how some of these people could be laughing and having animated discussions. Were their lives not falling apart?

I chose a small portion of powdered eggs and a piece of toast and stood with my tray, looking for an empty chair and feeling like I was back in high school.

"Crystal, come sit down, hon," Jo invited.

Grateful, I sat down next to her and looked at my eggs. What were my kids doing right now? Sleeping, most likely. How would Virginia feel when she woke up to find me gone? How would Chris explain all of this? Would Devon be ashamed of me? I had this irrational fear that Harmony would forget who I was. I choked back tears and tore off pieces of toast, letting them fall back into my plate.

"Can I use the salt?"

I looked to my left and was shocked to see a boy no older than twelve.

"Sure," I answered and passed him the salt shaker. I saw one of the techs start
toward the table and I knew, instinctively, that I had done something wrong. Fabulous.

"Crystal, can you come over here for a second?"

He led me to a corner of the cafeteria.

"I guess no one told you, but we don't talk to the kids," he explained.

"I didn't talk to him, I just-"

"We don't acknowledge their existence or interact with them in any way, including passing them the salt. Don't even make eye contact with them. Clear?"

I felt tears threatening. How can one person be such a screw up? "Yes, sir."

I picked up my tray, dumped my uneaten food and followed the group back to the east wing.

"Group time!" Kristen called from the desk.

I followed everyone into the tv room. I found a chair in the corner and tried to make myself as small as possible. After a few minutes, Jo stood up and began speaking.

"Good morning, everyone. We have a new person here with us, so let's start by going around the room and introducing ourselves," she instructed. "I'll go first. I'm Jo and I'm here for Lortab addiction and depression."

One by one, I watched in awe as people shared their shameful secrets as though we had known each other for decades.

"I'm John and I'm here for alcohol and drug abuse."

"I'm Kay and I'm here for suicidal thoughts and because I was hearing voices."

One frail looking elderly lady introduced herself by saying, "I'm Peggy and I'm here because I'm crazy."

When the introductions had been completed, they all looked at me expectantly.

What is this, I thought. I can't do this. I can't. I don't know these people and I don't belong here. You don't just tell a bunch of strangers how fucked up your head is!

"It's okay, Crystal," Kristen encouraged.

I very quietly said, "I'm Crystal. I'm here for...I was brought here...suicide. I mean, I was thinking about it. Suicidal tendencies, I guess." I had this insane notion that someone would stand up and start screaming the lyrics to "Institutionalized" and then I would start giggling and they would put the straightjacket on me.

Jo immediately launched into the daily goals and moods. When she reached my name on the board, she explained. "You'll do a daily self inventory sheet about your mood and goals and then we go over them here. So, how are you feeling and what is your goal for today?"

Like I want to go home, want to go to work, want to have a cactus shoved up my ass, anything but this!

"Tired," I answered. That word would have to do. Frightened, lonely, confused, angry, sad: tired. "My goal is-," I cleared my throat, "is to learn the rules here."

Some people were very verbal, some were almost catatonic. Looking back, I was such a prick. I truly thought that I was above all of this. If they ask me to hold hands and say the serenity prayer, I will drive this crayola through my brain.

"Ok," Jo finished. "Let's stand and hold hands while Carter leads the serenity prayer."

You have GOT to be shitting me.

She wasn't.
__________

10:00 a.m.

Dawn wandered in looking positively homicidal and I took that as my cue to retreat to the room and have my pity party in private. I did not need to share any of this with anyone. I had always suffered alone and I would continue to do so. As I stood to leave, a very pretty woman walked in and shouted, "RT time! Let's go, people! Let's go!"

I followed along as we left the wing and went outside to the parking lot. The pretty woman told us we could walk for a minute. As everyone moved in a circle, I looked down the hill. There was the Chick-Fil-A that Devon asked for every single Sunday, always forgetting that they're closed. There were people on their way to church or work or loved one's homes and living in the normal. And here we were, walking in a circle, mumbling and drooling and locked away from society. How very strange, I thought as tears coursed down my cheeks. What have I become?

We were moved inside and to a different part of the hospital.

"We're going to the craft room!" someone enthused.

I stopped in my tracks and felt the world swim out of focus. My experience with mental health had been reading One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest a hundred times, but I always thought that the cliche's about mental hospitals were inaccurate. Yet, here we were, filing into a locked room to make key chains out of plastic beads. I backed against the wall and shook my head back and forth. Jo noticed me and came over.

"Crystal, what's wrong?" she asked.

"Are they serious? Are they fucking serious? This won't help me. I can't...Jesus, what's next, electroshock therapy?"

Without a word, she pulled me into an embrace and forced my head down onto her shoulder. I began to cry and mewl like a baby. "I don't know how I got here," I whispered, clinging to her. "How did I get here?"

Sobs shook my body. I was finally accepting the reality of this situation and I didn't like it.

"You have to go in or come back to the ward, but you can't be in the hall!" someone barked.

"We just need a minute," Jo said.

She led me to the craft room and I sat down and watched the other women chat and laugh and make key chains and I wanted to hold my baby, Harmony. I wanted to smell her hair and kiss her fat, warm cheeks and see her smile, a grin so open and innocent that it always makes my world better.

Yeah, my inner voice scoffed. If you love her and your other kids so much, what were you thinking the other night?

That they would be better off without me as a mom, dammit. I'm not a good mom. I'm not a good person.

Why? the voice asked. Because you had too much pressure on you and you cracked? Because you're normal?

I can't be what everyone wants me to be. I can't be this person.

Then be someone else. Be who you are and believe that she's good enough.

I can't. I don't know how.

Learn. These people you're looking down on can share so much wisdom. Suck in your bottom lip, quit being a cry-baby and learn from them.

I'll try. I can try.

The education I was about to receive was more important, more profound and worthy than any college class or book I had ever read. It was also the most difficult because it meant I would have to be honest about who I really am and how I got here.

I would have to look inward and admit that I was a product of several chapters in my past, chapters that I diligently kept locked away.

It was time to blow the dust off and open that book.

to be continued