Friday, August 17, 2018

Morning in the Loony Bin - part one


March 23, 2016

7:30am



Morning has come, far too early for my liking. While snoring is rampant here, my little corner is full of people very much awake and yet somehow making less noise than those sleeping. In the hall are two people sleeping on the thinly mattressed gurneys they put you on in here. Presumably, mobility can become unexpectedly important, even in the psych ward. I'm curious if there are leather straps stowed under these but I'm just too nervous about the truth to try and find out. The small size could explain why I am curled into a ball, hugging my chest, trying to keep my bulky front from spilling over the side of the gurney. It's more likely that my extreme mental discomfort has me craving the fetal position. It also explains why my back and hip are killing me, although not literally. A large, vocal part of me is sad about that literally thing.



Close to me is a new recruit to our little encampment. Sitting up, he is talking to himself, embodying the lostness I feel inside. He is mumbling in Punjab or Farsi, I can't tell the difference. His face is frozen in a mask of concentration, as if spending all his energy trying to comprehend what is happening to him. In this matter he is a kindred spirit and I feel a little less alone.



Two curtains over is a young girl talking in her sleep. Her words alternate between those expressing terror and bliss, like a scene from Fifty Shades of Grey, unable even in her sleep to escape whatever it is that put her in this place. Before I had realized she was asleep, I found myself wondering if she was masturbating but although I am quite sure that is not uncommon thing to happen here, I am now leaning to her being a scared little girl trapped in a no longer naive young woman's body. She's in pain, likely both physical and mental, her dreams desperate to understand anything that is going on, whether that be out here or in her mind. I doubt her perception of reality can tell the difference anymore. After all, they are both prisons.



I haven't eaten in over 14 hours, getting down only water and extremely unconcentrated orange juice. I don't find myself overly hungry but the bottle of Ensure I was offered a couple of hours ago is beginning to sound appealing, despite my distaste for them. I know a headache from not eating will be coming on soon, along with the stress and mindlessness which will accompany it. I am the person in the Snickers candy bar commercial who is "not himself" when he's hangry.



Mindlessness. In a world that seems to be pushing the concept of mindfulness on everyone, the idea of existing in an exact opposite manner sounds appealing right now. It is the premise behind self-medication, which I have done many times. The tears live just below the surface, held back now only by the paper I am writing on. They are a pressure bomb in my chest and I'm terrified of looking weak in here. I'm terrified of the meds the nurse will give me. I'm terrified of the others here seeing me as a target. I'm terrified of having to acknowledge that right now, this is where I belong.



~



The Ensure is like a mouthful of Buckley's Mixture cough syrup mixed with a pound of chalk dust. Buckley's was my mother's go to cough treatment and I half suspected that it's terrible flavour was her way of determining if we were truly sick and deserving of a day off from school. Over the years I had learned to tolerate it, even looking forward to the soothing feel of it running down my throat. I find it exceedingly doubtful that I should ever expect to get to the point of respect with Ensure like I am with Buckley's.



"What am I going to do now?" has popped into my mind and the tears I have been holding back are moistening the pillow beneath my head. I am reminded of the scene from Terminator 2, when right before leaving the group to kill the engineer Dyson, Sarah Connors carved the words "No future" into the top of the picnic table where she had been sleeping. I am that lost as to what will become of me. Do I have a future? What niche will I fill in the world if I even find an opportunity for another chance and a new direction? People have told me to be like Dory, the fish Ellen DeGeneres voiced in Finding Nemo. "Just keep swimming" they would tell me but keep swimming in what? If you drop a fish into a vat of Sulfuric acid should it just keep swimming or is it logical for it to panic? Where can it go? Even if it ends up in plain water, what would swimming accomplish? Is a life of simply being enough? Existence for the sake of existence? Without a destination, there is no journey to learn from unless you account for a final destination.



It's hardly a new idea or question. Is life's journey towards death a sufficient reason for continuing life? Is life for its own sake reason enough to keep moving from one moment to the next? While I don't have an answer for that question it is something worthy of further exploration.



As a bit of a hobby, I dabble in religious counter-apologetics; the examination and refutation of religious reasoning and justifications of believers' views. There is a concept within this sphere of study which deals with the sufficient and necessary. Specifically, is the concept of a god sufficient to account, not only for the universe we experience, but the entire universe we could ever experience? Can god completely explain the 5% of matter and energy we have an understanding of as well as the other 95% which we know is there but have virtually no understanding of, AND any materialistic or non-materialistic reality of which we may have no concept, imagination or ability to experience.



Further, it must also be shown that god is a necessity, that there is and could never be any other proposition which would account for existence. If anyone can propose a logically and rational concept which would account for our local presentation of the universe, then the idea of necessity is immediately falsified.



While I have opinions on these questions, I have neither the intelligence nor the education to take them on when dealing with the massiveness of our universe, let alone the possibility of the multiverse which has popped out of current attempts at super-unification. I can, however, apply these ideas to the question, "Do I have an obligation to live? “As I am an experimental materialist, I have no belief in a god, an afterlife or an immortal soul so the question of necessity can only apply to the universe I can experience and account for. To whom or what would a necessity of life be related to? When it comes to the nonliving world, it couldn't care less if I was alive. Further, when my eventual end comes, microbes and insects will likely be very glad to fulfill their destiny and consume my non-animated flesh. When considering the living world, I have no pets, no children, and no dependents of any kind. I hold no financial obligation to anyone. No one will end up on the street starving if I cease to be.



The emotional stability of those in my life, as far as I can see, is the only consideration which may satisfy necessity. I have few close friends, most of whom struggle with these same thoughts. Those who do not understand from experience have done well to understand by talking to me and have come to accept how hard my struggle has been. So, if my life were to end, by any means, it is safe to say that my friends would be able to move on with an understanding, and while it would in no way completely relieve the resulting emotions, they would be minimized with the knowledge that I had likely struggled as much as I possibly could. Their lives would move on without me.



Obviously my family adds another level of thought which must be considered. My brother and sister have attempted to help me in the best way they can. Both of them being in the medical field give them an uncommon perspective on how my thoughts work and I have been very lucky to have them around. My Nephew has struggled with depression as well, including stints on anti-depressants over the years. My nieces are teens and have been brought up in the social media age where open discussion of topics once taboo are now commonplace. LGBTQ rights are a comfortable topic for them. So is personal sexual responsibility. Mental health is also a topic of which they are well versed and although I'm sure they want the best for me, they understand that the best for me may be ending my life someday.



My mother is, perhaps, the only trump card which I have to deal with. We have lived together since my first collapse in late 2012 and it has become obvious that she is uncomfortable with my illnesses in every way. She wants to listen, to be the one I can talk to but it is awkward and distressing for her, so I try to keep it to a minimum such as when things directly affect her or our relationship. I suspect that the anxiety issues hit far too close to home and that she's been dealing with many of the same relationship problems and thoughts as I do throughout her life. It just hasn't been acceptable acknowledge them personally, let alone discus them with others, until very recently. I'm guessing that watching so many people discuss so many personal issues without shame is off-putting, to say the least. While it is the one final thing that saved my life, is it necessary to remain alive because of the emotional turmoil that my suicide would cause to my mother.



I know she would do almost anything to want my suffering to end but does that list include accepting my death. I simply don't know.

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