I can’t get it out of my head. I just can’t. The ER was hell. It was literal hell on earth. I thought I was going to be stuck there forever. Ever single bad thing reminds me of that place. It reminds me how awful it was. To be locked in a box. No sun, couldn’t see my own brother, I was screamed at and yelled at and wasn’t able to tell what the button was for. I wanted to leave. I wanted out. I hated it. I hated it. My mind fractured even further being there. I was paranoid. I couldn’t tell what was going on. I couldn’t tell who was who. I couldn’t tell what things were for. I couldn’t even breathe in some instances. I just wanted out. I just wanted to leave, but they wouldn’t let me. So much different emotions when I remember. Sadness, embarrassment, fear. All different emotions. I didn’t help that I went in willingly and it was still awful. I hated myself. I just wanted to leave. It’s a permanent scar. I’ll always remember and be afraid. Right now it’s so fresh that every single thing reminds me of the shame I felt. I think they thought I was crazy. It felt awful. It just felt awful. I was convinced they would stick me there forever. Drugged out and brain dead. That they thought I was dangerous and would lock me up. That I’d never see the sun again. I remember being obsessed about certain things. How did the locks work, why was there a camera on me 24/7, what was the button for, was it an intercom, how did the window work, how come they could always see me but I couldn’t see them, who were the people in the suits sitting in the corner, who was the guy in the chair, why was that guy in the robe staring at me, who was the voice in the other room, why couldn’t I leave the room and some people, what was going on. My mind got worse. It didn’t help. All it did was scare me. All it did was make me hate them. I remember when I started to figure it out, I left. Those few moments when I had it figured out were ok. Then they took me away to another place I couldn’t understand. There were so many things I couldn’t quite get. Things that will be seared into my head. That time a nurse opened the door and started getting angry at me so I made a closed fist when I had my hands and he got angrier. The time another nurse got mad at me for pushing the button alot even though I didn’t know what it was for. That time a nice guard put a quarter on the floor so I can touch it and see that it was real. The time a nurse opened my window and asked why I was doing this. The time police officers showed up and I looked out the window. One saw me and I did nothing but put my hands up in a criss cross to show them this was a jail. The time people in suits came and I started screaming because I didn’t want them hear and I was afraid. The time I thought I saw my cousin nicky and thought he had come to calm me down. The time I thought I saw a professor from the summit come to explain why I was like this. The time I was finally taken away and a police officer got angry at me for just mentioning my uncles to myself while I was watching the GSN. I held my hands up and looked at the floor to show that I wasn’t going to hurt anyone. But I was also afraid he would hurt me. I noticed the gun on his hip. It made me even more frightened. Then I noticed the other officer and it looked like he was sad that I was there. That I was afraid. Maybe he didn’t want me to be afraid of them. Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe I couldn’t understand anything. It’s killing me. To remember these things. I think the things that scare me the most is what I don’t remember. What if they did something worse to me. What if they pumped me full of sedatives and it made me hallucinate. What if they beat me and I just blocked it out. What if a lot of things. I don’t think that writing this made it any better. I also don’t think that I will forget this anytime soon. But I don’t think that I could spend another day without having this written down. I think just the memories of it were going to make me vomit, so I needed to get this out otherwise I might go crazy again.
5 comments
Me, personally, I would’ve been annoyed at the quarter on the floor. It depends. But.
Hug (@.@) I wish I could hang out with you in person
Solitary confinement sounds feckin scary. A camera in the room :O
That would make everything worse! It’s such a bad idea! Stupid labcoat moles! My sister was hospitalized at a young age and they had a camera in her room too. I would obsess over it like you
I’m here for you by the way. I care even though I’m a stranger,
I always wondered what you looked like. I always picture a bald guy.
Quite the opposite. I have long hair. I guess to help you picture it, I’m a 23 year old Latino.
staying in ER is awful. one visit was enough for me. I hope you feel better eventually, or at least the scar fades. if nothing else, I hope you never have to go back. best wishes.