Monday, June 8, 2009

I don't like bathrooms

When I found myself in this tiny bathroom the war started. How can I know why I felt the need to disinfect this place. I opened the toilet and emptied the whole content of the spray into the toilet bowl. But that was not enough: sudden wild anger towards the whole place took me over. I dashed the big roll of the toilet paper( later I will be reminiscing this fresh, white beautiful piece of toilet paper) and smashed the toliet bowl with a big ,red cleaning brush. That was enough, I fulfilled my duty. I was content. I could go away now. I washed my hands and opened the door. And there he was. A nice looking, young and tall with shaved head employee of the hospital. Nurse, paramedic,a guard, how could I know. He was looking at me strangely, I knew there was something. Not thinking too long I attacked him with my shoe. His face looked even more astounded. He jumped towars me and immobilized me. But my father came in to rescue me saying " She will go alone". He let me go. I was calm and actually pretty happy. He took me under one arm and my father under the next and the gate opened. Last thing I said before the gate was closed behind me was " Great! I can smoke here!" and next everything started progresing very fast.

1 comment:

  1. hello kuna, I've spent time in psychiatric hospitals over a dozen times. You have set forth a very vivid account of your adventure in being touched by an alien. :-) And being able to smoke is definately one of the minute~ plusses when being incarcerated!

    My dad didn't visit me much, but my mother did. My stays ranged from 2 weeks to 3 months. Knock on last stay was over two years ago...and I know how you felt when in restraints (I had been tied up for three days once in a camasole which ran from my neck to my ankles.) The first thing I did when finally being released was to light up a smoke. (given to me by my shrink!)
    I wish you brighter days...keep writing. It's therapy! jim