Psychiatric Warrior

It was a nervous breakdown to say the least. I woke up on August fifth, had a coffee and a smoke and tried to send out some e-mails. My whole body was weak. I was trembling. My heart was pounding out of my chest. It was like a panic attack that wouldn’t end. My body was shutting down and my mind was speeding out of control. I knew I was in serious trouble. I had just returned from Toronto a few days earlier after casting a short film that I wrote. The director, who is a good friend and I did twenty screen tests and chose eight actors for the film. I was also going to act in six of the skits that make up the film. On a conscious level I had a great time. But something was eating away at me slowly and I didn’t realize it until a few days after I returned from Toronto. I still don’t know exactly what caused it which made it all the more frustrating. Maybe part of it was because I was having a hard time dealing with the pressure of making my first movie. Anyways, I ended up in the ER. After about three hours they finally called my name. I went through the usual procedures and they set me up on a flimsy mattress for the night. I didn’t fall asleep until around three in the morning. At about 7:30 a.m. a nurse came to speak with me. I was so out of it that I can’t remember one word of our conversation. They transferred me to the psychiatric ward about noon. I had been there before eleven years ago. All the memories came flooding back. I really did not think I’d ever be back there as a patient. I had no choice. I was at war with my mind and body. Everything was completely out of sync. My thoughts were fractured and my memory was a mess. I felt like I was wasting away. I paced the halls, dragging my feet, a complete zombie, dead to the world. Just looking at food made my stomach sick. Especially hospital food. Absolutely disgusting. I wouldn’t feed that shit to a dog. Thankfully my roommate would bring me healthy food every few days and it made a huge difference. My doctor started experimenting with my medication and jacked me up on dexedrin, an amphetamine. Let’s just say it was a failed experiment and it nearly killed me. Finally after about two weeks my doctor and I seemed to be on the same page.

I’ll give you an idea of what it’s like on the ward. People wandering the halls with blank stares on their faces wondering what went wrong, looking for answers they probably won’t find. Patients staying in bed all day, paralyzed by depression and anxiety, desperate for sleep. Others staring out the windows at the garden behind the hospital for hours at a time, lost in suffering, silently wondering if their lives will ever make sense again. The patient phone ringing constantly, concerned family members and friends trying to lend an ear. Lots of crying, the occasional screaming fit. The guy who looks up random numbers in the phone book and calls complete strangers. Sometimes I wondered if he was just talking to himself and there was nobody on the other end of the line. The woman with six kids who just stared off into space and never talked. The guy who wouldn’t stop talking. Funny guy though. The middle aged women chatting with each other earnestly trying to unload some of their mental baggage, just looking for some kind of understanding and common ground. The guy who would put a movie on, watch five minutes and walk away, only to return and do it again almost immediately. The elderly patients with dementia staring at the ceiling, their mind a prison, waiting for death to set them free. Someone strapped to a bed, screaming and moaning, refusing to be sedated.

A good friend of mine was in there with me for part of my stay and it definitely helped the time go by. He's a funny, inspiring guy and I owe part of my return to sanity to him. I did my best to try to find some meaning in the chaos and suffering. I’m still working on it. But I feel hopeful. Last Sunday was my first good day in almost a month and the last week has gone about as well as it could considering the circumstances. When you hit bottom you learn to appreciate the little things as you rebuild your life. I’m starting to eat healthier and I’m really watching how much I’m drinking. What can I say, I love beer but mental stability at this point is far more important. I'm on a weekend pass but I’ll be out of the ward on Monday or Tuesday and I can honestly say I’m a stronger person because of my time there. I'm also a more compassionate person. I met some beautiful people and it’s hard to watch them suffer but I believe in my heart that it’s a learning experience. It makes you realize how fragile life really is. I also learned that you have to have a decent understanding of your own mind before you can truly understand someone else's mind. The nurses were absolutely great and I’m looking forward to getting my life back. My family and friends were completely supportive and helped me climb out of this hellhole I was in. At least now I can look at the absurdity of it all and just laugh. As stupid as it sounds, I think I enjoy smoking cigarettes more than ever. I smoke them with PASSION. When I finally get my business cards done, as well as including freelance writer and editor and advertising my website I might even add 'Psychiatric Warrior'. Actually, probably not. Most people wouldn't get it and that's fine. But hey, the pills give me skills.

The following poem is the only thing I wrote during my stay in the ward. It's hardly my best work and I never write poems that rhyme but it will give you an idea of where I was at in my mind at the time.

words from the ward

when inner and outer life collide
and you're fighting to choose a side
standing still
unable to enjoy the ride
in your friends you no longer confide
so you do what logic dictates
YOU HIDE

Note: I think the strangest thing I've seen in the psych ward was this guy who was pacing around talking to himself, asking himself questions in english and answering in french.

Here's a old poem I re-edited called "Ignorance"...hope you'll get a laugh.

self imposed ignorance
is a wonderful thing
I can't even tell you
all the joy it can bring
the less you know
the more beautiful you dream
the more you ignore
the better things seem!

A few random musings...

Try to be yourself but don't get too scared when it happens.
I am easily offended by people who are easily offended.
There is no room in my life for perfection.
Your anorexic eyes do a good job of protecting your lies.
My urine had more bubbles than usual today. Thought you should know.
Most family trees are cum shots in the dark.
I'm not answering questions, I'm questioning answers.