Experience in Hospital
Guest article by Dove of eDelacroix
Originally appeared on the Dark Personalities Rant Pages.
Well, when I was younger I was subject to some programming. Part of it was that if I *do anything on a list of shit not to do* I will self-destruct. For most of my life this has been pretty easy to deal with, as I've had Thomas to help me. (Thomas is my husband - internally). Whenever I do something, he is right there to keep me from offing myself before I snap out of it. The thing is, we have not figured out how to get me to snap out of it yet, so sometimes I will go for months on 24 hour watch. The longest it ever took was 3 months. The shortest about 6 hours. Medicating me, and erasing whatever it was I did from my memory fixes it, but that is not pleasant, and we are trying to figure out the "trick." That is what was happening for those three months. I didn't want to have to go through the erasure.
About a year and a half ago, something happened. We still do not know what triggered it, but I was really self destructing. It went from the terror feeling, to hearing and seeing the programmed "stuff" to downing a bottle of aspirin, breaking a mirror, slitting my wrist with the broken glass, and chugging some rum. It all happened so fast... When we looked back on it, I must have been on the track for a while, because I had the rum in the room. The wrist was not too bad, in fact it did not even scar, and I knew there was nothing a doctor could do for my programming, but Thomas was worried about the aspirin/rum combo, especially as much as I took... Plus there were a few unknown pills in the mix. So he got Chris our RL fiancee) and Mike our roommate now, but then he was just a friend, to take us to the ER. Well, of course they Baker Acted me. I thought Karen my therapist could get me out of it, but the MDs wouldn't listen to her.
So they shipped me off to the mental hospital. Now, all of this was really frightening. The entire ER atmosphere is very similar to the things that were around me during the time of the programming. Thomas and Mark (Mark is Tom's brother and the other of our protector team) were staying with me, trying to keep me from doing anything that would further compromise our situation. This didn't leave us with much choice as far as who went through with everything. Some of our teenage girls, and the host switched off up until things got weird in the actual ER. At that point Mark went through the whole Pumping thing. It was awful. We were all triggered, and there was no where to go. We couldn't just step off and retreat inside because of fear that the we would not be aware of what the MDs were doing to us.
My parents showed up. That was bad, because they do love us, but they really know how to fuck things up. I don't care how many ways Chris (our fiancee - external) has fucked up, and how many times we have/threatened to have left him, he is the best thing that ever happened to us. (Don't tell him I said that, lol). Apparently they hustled in to see me before anyone let Chris in. I was very upset about that but the MDs wouldn't listen to me. Some of the younger kids were concerned I had done something awful, and the external surroundings were of no help. We needed Chris to calm them for
us. At this point we needed all the help we could get. All we had was a sobbing mother and a seething father.
The bad thing here: I worked at a hospital. The hospital I was in did not have a mental ward. Even though I worked there these idiot MDs wanted to transfer me to St. Joseph's. EVEN THOUGH I WORKED THERE!!!! What ass holes. They kept asking me why I did this, and didn't I realize how stupid it was. The funny thing is I have never in my life been suicidal. NEVER. In that one moment looking into that Doctor's eyes as he completely ignored my words, and did not even meet the eyes of my psychologist, I felt as though I had failed my system. I knew what was going to happen, and I really thought death was the better option. For the first time in my life. Someone pulled some strings and got me into a private hospital. It might have been the nurse. When he heard Chris say Dove, I love you, he looked at my chart and back at me with allot more understanding in his eyes.
They put me in this ambulance to be dropped of at the hospital with these other people. I had never seen such "crazy people" before. One kept scratching HOLES into her thinking she was covered in bugs. This one man kept trying to lick me. Thomas stayed out, but I wanted to be near him. It was awful. The lady who drove the truck was really nice to me though and we started swapping horror stories about the deaths we had seen. She told me I ought to work as an EMT. I told her I had seen enough already. She told me she couldn't understand the evil in the world... I stayed silent.. feeling that same evil overcoming me. Sneaking up behind me like a great cat, ready to rip me in two.
I was wearing a pastel plaid flannel (this was a compromise between the guys and the girls. Flannel, but it has to be girly) It was warm, that's why I was wearing it then... When Chris had come in to get me I was stripped. So he put me in a bra, that, These god awful grandma panties, blue jeans, green thick socks, and tennis shoes. He did a pretty good job actually, and other than the fact my bra was soaked from the pumping... I wouldn't let them take it off of me... I was warm and comfy.
I had checked into the ER at about 3. It was about 3 am when I got to the mental hosp. I was tired, I wanted to go to sleep. I wanted to die. I wanted to pray. I had asked my mother to bring me my rosary, and she had. At the hospital they took it away, in case I might hang myself. They made me strip and put on a "nightgown." I was lucky though, she gave me two one for the front and one for the back. They even had these footies. I folded my clothes. By this time I was crying. Had I really been reduced to this? Was I actually standing here, like a child of the holocaust about to hand over my clothing. She was asking all these questions, not giving us time to answer. Thomas and Mark were fighting over our strategy. Dahlia, she is young, and sweet, and people take well to her, answered most of them. When they got to "Did you attempt suicide tonight, she said "no, Dove did, but she didn't want to" the nurse was floored. She told me I could keep my clothes, but wanted the shoelaces. Thomas said take the shoes... I don't plan on being here long enough to need them. he was referring to our challenging their placing me here (we did this, and were released early). The nurse thought it was a threat. She pointed to the door at the end of the room... This is where the rest of the Ambulance gang had been taken. "You don't want to end up in there do you?"
I was so frightened. To me those doors were nothing less than the gates of my childhood. With all the strength I could muster I asked "May I please take a shower?" "In the morning" above Gigi's cry that it already was morning, I thought, at least the children of the holocaust could pray for rain. I was not even given a tooth brush.
We were taken to the room.. clothes in hand.. no shoes. Wet bra... Paper gown rustling in the dark hallway. She opened the door. I had a roommate... Dear God, what is going to be wrong with her? Thankfully she slept. I placed my clothes on top of the dresser. I went to the restroom, purged myself of the remaining black bile from the pumping... there was no wash cloth. I used one of the gowns.... wetting it in the sink to clean myself. I was starving. Other than pills and rum I had not eaten since 10 am, it was now 4 am. I opened the door, and asked for some food. They had nothing but chips. I wanted to say "I could lodge this in my throat and suffocate" but I kept silence in spite of my anger and humiliation. I couldn't eat them. I don't eat fried foods. Thomas ate some. I drank some water.. again I felt the need to purge. This went on for an hour.
5 am. I lie in the bed, looking out this small barred over window, at this leaf. One branch, one leaf. The pillow was thin.. too thin. The blanket was still tucked under the mattress. We lay there together looking at this leaf. In silence. Finally Mark said "Do you remember the tree?" We started talking about things we remembered, and left the body there on the bed, for the night to rest, as we reminisced about the terrors of our childhood. You know you are in bad shape when tales of fear and humiliation can distract you from the problems at hand.
Because no one was present, we were not up when we should have been at 7:30. Granted we had only been asleep about 45 minutes. This woman actually lifted us up out of the bed. Mark came out, and whacked her good across the brow, before he realized what was happening. This is a bad thing to do in a hospital! She laid us back down and said to get dressed for breakfast if we wanted to eat. I wanted to shower. She said there was no time. They wouldn't hold my breakfast. I was not allowed to leave the floor to eat in the cafeteria. THANK GOD! I was alone with the nurses. I knew I was allowed to use the phones, but I was ashamed to call Chris, and I did not remember Karen's number. My purse, our day planner, all of that had been taken from us. We didn't even have a hair brush. Breakfast was runny eggs, toast spoggy from the eggs and FRIED bacon. Not even Thomas could eat this shit. We ate some toast. Said thank you, and I excused myself to the showers. The nurse scribbled on her damned pad. "Pt. refuses breakfast" I could see this coming back to haunt me. I asked where I could receive towels. At the desk. I go to the desk. You want to talk about humiliation?
I worked in an Occupational Health Center. Where nurses go if they are exposed to blood borne pathogens? The nurse at the counter was a patient at the clinic. I knew this nurse. I was only allowed one towel. Because she knew me she allowed me two one for my hair. My shampoo came in a cup. As did my soap. No Washcloth. What is with these people and their washcloths?
My hair is long and thick. There was not enough shampoo. I used the soap in my hair. I must have stayed in too long because a nurse came to check on me, and declared the water too hot. I was removed before I had a chance to rinse out my hair completely. As I was dressing a nurse barged in. It was a male. I almost screamed. I had a phone call from Karen. I needed her, she called. I loved her at that moment. She was speaking with the hospital psychiatrist to get me out. THANK GOD!
The day got worse needless to say, but the long and the short of this is...
Being there did not help me.
Dove of Delacroix
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