I pushed my orange hard plastic chair into the corner
of the day room. I want nothing to do with these people…nothing.
“David, would you please join us for group?” The fat
blonde nurse is talking to me again…I wish she would get the point and leave me
alone.
“No,” I say.
“Ok David. Just stay in the day room so we can keep an
eye on you.”
An eye on me? I raise my eyebrows and look at her with
my best screw you look. I drop down into the chair and shift my knees toward
the wall, but I make sure I can keep an eye on the group. I may not want to be in group, but I am going to make sure I
can see them…I will not let one of those crazy people sneak up on me.
I am not entirely sure how I ended up here. I was
walking down the street and the cop stopped me and asked if I was ok. I was
terrified that he was going to shoot me. I know someone is going to kill me,
but I just don’t know who it will be. Will it be a stranger? Will it be someone
I know and trust? Whoever it is I am sure as hell gonna make sure I give them a
run for their money.
I need to call Danna again. She has been worried about
me for a while now. My beautiful wife and my perfect little girl are all alone
in that little house with no one to protect them and I have to keep checking on
her, because I know if I don’t someone is going to hurt them. I hope that
whoever is looking for me isn’t going to show up at my house. If they do they
might hurt Danna or Charlie, the very thought of it sends a wave of panic
through my bad. I shiver and draw up.
“Ok everyone, on a scale from 1 to 10, I would like
everyone to tell me how they are feeling this morning. Janna, we will start
with you.” The stupid nurse has started group now and I can’t help my curiosity.
“Um…I guess I’m a 5. I don’t really feel one way or
another today.” Janna is a slutty looking brunette, with fierce green eyes that
tell me she wants me. I don’t want her though; all I can think about is Danna
and my little Charlie.
“I wanna go next!” A dark haired buff looking guy, who
I think is called Mark , is almost jumping out of his seat with his hand
stretched as high as high as he can reach. “I’m a 10!” he says, rocking
excitedly.
“That’s great, Mark, but it wasn’t your turn. It was
Carrie’s turn,” The nurse doesn’t sound frustrated at all by his rudeness. She
sounds completely calm and patient. I would smack him in the face if he did
that to me. “Carrie, how are you feeling today?”
Carrie is rocking back and forth too, but it gives a
whole different impression. She is twisting her hands in her lap and looks down
at the floor.
“A two,” she says, her voice sounds close to tears and
I feel empathetic toward her. I have been there; I know what it’s like to feel
like a two all the time. Danna worries about me when I get like that, she
thinks that I need to see a doctor about it, but I keep telling her I ain’t
seeing a shrink.
“Thank you Carrie.” The nurse gives Carrie a small
smile. “Mark, you have already gone, so we are gonna ask Sam, Sam how are you
feeling today?” she squares her shoulder to Sam. He looks too young to be in
this unit. They told me this was the adult unit.
“I’m a 5, like Janna,” he says looking the nurse
directly in the eye. He holds her gaze for a moment and then looks out the
window. I wonder what he’s thinking.
The nurse turns her body toward me and the little bit
of tension that had left my body, while everyone’s attention was elsewhere,
returns with a vengeance.
“David, how are you feeling today?” she asks?
I glare at her and give her the finger. She gives me a
small smile and turns back to the group. “Thank you all for coming to group
this morning. Please hang around in the dayroom, we will be going to breakfast
shortly.” She rises up out of her seat and returns to the nurse’s station.
I watch them all get up and move around the room. Mark
starts pacing and talking to himself. Everyone once in a while he punches his
right hand into his left and curses. Janna and Sam move toward the cushy green
chairs set against the other side of the room and sit down. The face one
another and start chatting. I wish I knew what they were saying…they might be
plotting against me. Carrie is still sitting on the couch in the center of the
room, rocking and staring at the floor. There are two couches, a love seat and
a TV that form a square, the TV is against a wall on a push cart, like the ones
you see in elementary schools when they drag in a TV for movie day. Last night
they hooked a Wii to it and encouraged everyone to play it. Mark was the only
one and he played baseball. I watched him swinging his arms madly and it scared
me to see how strong he is.
I can’t help but worry a little bit about Carrie, a
two is pretty bad and I feel like I should go talk to her or something, offer
her some encouraging words. As a minister, that is part of my job. The only
thing is I haven’t been a very good minister the past two weeks. Charlie was
born two weeks ago and ever since that day I have been terrified that something
was going to happen to me and I wouldn’t be able to provide for my family
anymore. I should have felt that unspeakable joy that most dads feel when their
first child is born, but me, I just felt terrified. I don’t provide much for my
family as a minister but we get by. I haven’t preached since that day and
tomorrow in two days it will have been three weeks since I preached. I can’t
help but feel like I’m letting my congregation down. They look to me to set an
example, but to be honest I haven’t thought about them much lately, my only
thought has been of saving my life and the lives of my darlings.
I push myself up and shuffle toward Carrie. She
doesn’t look up at me, but I know she hears me coming. She really is beautiful,
blonde hair, curvy figure with nice big breasts. Hey, I’m a minister, but I’m
not dead…I know a beautiful creation of God when I see one. Even though she’s
gorgeous, I feel no attraction toward her, there is only one love of my life
and right now she is home alone trying to take care of Charlie. Guilt washes
over me as I think of her trying to take care of our daughter all by herself. I
should be there helping her, making sure she gets enough sleep and taking
shifts watching over Charlie.
“Hi, I’m Pastor David,” I say stretching out my hand
for her to shake. She glances up at me, but doesn’t take my hand; instead she
rocks harder, as though my presence makes her anxious. I sit down beside her
and try to think of something to say.
“Why are you sitting beside me?” It took me a second
to realize she had asked me a question. In the few seconds that had passed
since I sat down I had gotten caught up with checking to make sure no one was
sneaking up on me.
“I just thought I would see if I could cheer you up a
little bit,” I say smiling at her. She glances up at me for a millisecond and
then looks back at the floor and resumes her rocking. “I’m sorry you feel like
a two. If it means anything to ya, I have been there.” She doesn’t respond; she
just keeps rocking. “Me and my wife just had our first child, her name is
Charlie, she’s beautiful. Do you have any children?” She shakes her head.
“Children are great. My and Danna have been trying for years now, and just when
we thought it wasn’t meant to be, BAM, she was pregnant. We were so excited we
went out and bought a crib that same day.” I see a tiny smile play around her
lips. That makes me feel good and I lean back into the couch. “I’m worried
about them. They are alone in my house, and I can’t help but be afraid that
whoever is after me is gonna show up there and end up hurting them.”
“Someone’s after you?” she asks, turning her face up
to me with a surprised look on her face. “Why would anyone be after you?”
“It’s persecution of a man of God…they want to hurt me
because I worship the one true God,” I say, admitting this truth for the third
time in the past 24 hours.
The first time was to the cop who found me hiding
behind the dumpster on Airport Rd. He asked me what I was doing back there, so
I told him. I told him that the end times are approaching and there is
persecution against the children of God. I told him I am a minister and they
are going to kill me. I said that I would happily die as a martyr, but my wife
just had our first born child and I need to be around to usher them through the
hard times that are approaching. He said he would take me somewhere safe but he
took me here instead. He had a conversation with a suspicious looking woman
behind a sliding glass window and then they took me to a room and asked a bunch
of silly question. I explained the situation again and I told them that if this
was a safe place they needed to bring my wife and baby here too. They said they
couldn’t do that, they told me I would be safe here but that my wife and baby
were in no danger and that they would be perfectly ok. They said she could come
and see me, but my Charlie wouldn’t be able to come. I told them that I
couldn’t stay here, that I needed to protect my wife and new born, but they
said that I had to stay. I’m being held prisoner, just like Paul in the Bible.
Everyone in here is being held prisoner.
I asked them where I was at and a somber looking lady
in scrubs told me I was at Laurelwood. I felt sick. I told her Laurelwood was a
mental hospital and that I wasn’t crazy, that I was just in danger. She said
she understood, but that she thinks I should stay here a little while. She told
me again that I was safe here. I asked if I had a choice and she said she was
afraid not and then that was that. I gave up, I guess I am as safe here as I am
anywhere else, but I sure hope that my congregation doesn’t find out I’m in the
looneybin.
“Oh,” she says, and I see pity in her eyes. “Are you
sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” I say. “And isn’t someone after
you too, I mean isn’t that why you’re here?”
She looks back at the floor and starts twisting her
hands again, her right sleeve slid up her arm a little bit and that’s when I
saw that her wrist was wrapped in thick gauze. I shift my gaze to her other
wrist and could see a little bit of white sticking.
“They got you didn’t they,” I say gesturing to her
wrists.
She doesn’t look at me but I hear her say “No.”
“Then how did that happen?” I ask.
“I did it,” she whispers to the floor.
“Oh,” I say, and I don’t know what else to say so I
tell her “I’m sorry.”
She shrugs and keeps twisting her hands. She goes back
to rocking as I lean back against the couch. I take a good look around, taking
inventory of the room and where everyone is…I know I have to keep a close eye
on everyone just in case this place isn’t as safe as all these nurses keeps
telling me it is.
“Everyone line up for breakfast,” says the blonde
nurse. Everyone in the room starts lining up facing the only exit out of the
room. A few people that didn’t show up to group shuffle forward to get in line.
I watch everyone line up and then go get in the back of the line so I can keep
a check on everyone. This dark haired man in scrubs stands behind me and I jerk
around to look at him.
“It’s ok David,” he says holding up his hands, “I’m
not going to hurt you.”
He has a kind face and I let some of the tension leave
my body. I give him a small nod, but I turn myself at an angle so I can see him
and the group.
Breakfast passed pretty uneventful. I didn’t eat much,
I picked at my food mostly. The food I did eat wasn’t too bad. Honestly I was
kind of impressed with the selection: eggs, bacon, cereal, oatmeal and an
option of a fruit bowl. But for the most part I was keeping an eye out on
everyone.
“David?” the nurse from the back of the line is back,
“I’m Trey, I’ve been asked to take you to see the doctor; will you walk with
me?”
“Doctor, why do I need to see a doctor?” I ask.
“Everyone here has to see a doctor, it’s just standard
procedure. I think you will like him, his name is Dr. Collins. He is a very
kind man and I promise he won’t hurt you.”
I look at Trey for a moment. He seems honest enough
and he’s the first person I’ve met in this place that doesn’t seem like an
immediate threat.
“Ok,” I say and stand up to follow him.
He puts a code into the only exit and holds the door
open for me to walk through. He walks halfway down and long hall and turns
right onto a shorter hall. I stride along behind him, turning my head back and
forth just to make sure we aren’t being followed. He stops at a door on the
right at the end of the short hall and knocks.
“Come in,” says a deep voice.
We walk in an a middle aged white man with salt and
pepper hair stands up and walks around a desk and extends his hand to me.
“I’m Dr. Collins, and you must be Mr. Mitchell.”
He waits patiently for me to shake his hand but I
don’t move. There is no way in heaven or hell I’m shaking this man’s hand. He’s
freaking huge! There is no way he’s shorter than six and a half feet and he
looks strong too. I feel frozen in place, panic courses through every part of
me and I take a step back on reflex.
“Are you good?” Trey asks, looking at the doctor.
“Yes,” he says, “We will be fine won’t we Mr.
Mitchell?”
I open my mouth the protest but I can’t get a word
out. I turn and look at Trey and beg him with my eyes not to leave me alone in
here with this man. Trey smiles and squeezes my shoulder and leaves, closing
the door softly behind him.
“Why don’t we take a seat?” Dr. Collins says.
I can’t move. I just stand there staring at him. He
gives me a small smile and sits down in a big, green cushy chair across from a
small matching sofa. I notice he has a notepad and a pen. He leans forward
slightly in his chair as if he’s waiting for me to do something.
“I would tell you that I’m not going to hurt you, but
something tells me you wouldn’t believe me,” he says, “I would really like it
if you would have a seat and let me prove to you that I mean no harm.”
I finally find my legs and take the few steps to the
couch to sit down.
“Thank you Mr. Mitchell. May I call you David, or do
you prefer Mr. Mitchell?” he asks.
“David is fine,” I mumble. I am taking quick shallow
breathes and I feel myself shaking. I do not feel like a man at all right now.
The idea of how pathetic I am makes my stomach clench.
“Ok David, I would like to ask you some questions,
would that be ok?”
I nod. I have a bad feeling about this, and I clench
my fists tight pushing my arms tightly to my legs.
He started asking me about what was going on in my
life right now, so I told him about Charlie and how excited I was to finally
have a daughter. We had been trying for years and when we had finally given up
was w finally when Danna and I finally conceived. He asked about my mood and I
told him I felt great…except for the fact that someone was after me. He nodded
and took interest in that. He asked who I thought was after me and I told him
that I wasn’t sure, but I knew they were coming and I needed to protect Danna
and Charlie. He asked why I thought someone was after me, so I told him about
the end times and the persecution of Christians. I begin to relax a little, it
seemed he believed me well enough and so far no one else had looked like they
believed me.
“Have you ever felt depressed?” he asks.
“I guess by definition yes, but I have had times that
I felt that way for years…it always passes and then I feel normal, sometimes
even better than normal, but everyone is sad sometimes and everyone can be
really happy sometimes too.”
“How are you
sleeping?” he asks.
“Well, to be honest I don’t really need to sleep nor
do I want to. If I close my eyes then I am vulnerable and someone could sneak
up on me…I have to stay vigilant,” I say.
“I understand,” he says.
He asks a bunch of ridiculous questions too, like if I
am seeing or hearing things other people say aren’t real. I laugh and tell him
I’m not crazy. He nods and scribbles on his notepad.
“Well David, I think we need to talk about the
possibility that you might have bipolar disorder,” he says.
“What?” I say, thinking I must have misunderstood. “I
don’t have bipolar disorder. I’m not
crazy.”
“David you aren’t crazy at all, but I do think that
you are having some difficulties…would you disagree?”
“My difficulty
is that someone is going to kill me.”
“David, no one is after you, no one is going to kill
you. I am certain of this. You see bipolar disorder means you have significant
mood swings that have an impact on your life. These times when you have been
sad on and off for years, did these occurrences make life difficult?
“I guess so. I mean I have trouble preaching when I
get like that, and Danna always worries about me.”
“Do these mood swings worry you?”
“I guess so…I mean I need to do my job and I feel
terrible and like I shouldn’t be preaching in the first place…like no one needs
to hear what I have to say if I can’t even get out of the bed.”
“Does Danna have anything to say about when you get
really happy?”
“Well…kinda…she complains that I talk too much and she
gets irritated with me because she can’t understand me, she tells me to slow
down and take a breath. But I have preached some of my best sermons when I’m
like that and she recognizes my genius at those times.”
“David, you are describing bipolar disorder exactly.
When people with bipolar disorder are manic they don’t need a lot of sleep, if
any and they can be very creative and energetic. People that are in this kind
of mood often times talk very fast, their thoughts race, they participate in
risky behavior like reckless spending and some of them can have a very strong
sex drive. Sometimes people who become manic they have symptoms such as
paranoia, in which they believe someone is following them or out to hurt them.
Does any of this sound familiar?”
I seem to have lost my voice again. He just described
some of the best times of my life exactly. Danna and I got in a huge argument
one time when I bought a Porsche. I took out a loan and used all of our savings
to do it. Now that I think about it, that was definitely reckless spending and
we ended up selling it, but we are still paying that loan back. And our sex
life is amazing when I’m like that.
It’s like I can’t get enough of her. I look up at Dr. Collins; he’s leaning
forward watching me patiently as a mull this over. I put my head in my hands, I
suddenly don’t feel too good, maybe I am crazy.
“Are you ok, David” he asks, startling me.
I suddenly realize I’m shaking and I glance around the
room to make sure no one is hiding in the corner waiting to jump out at me, and
then I realize what I’m doing. I look back at him for a second and then look at
my hands. This can’t be real…I can’t be crazy. What about Danna and Charlie, I
can’t be crazy and raise my daughter. What kind of father would I be? What if I
lost it and hurt her? I feel moisture in my eyes and there is a lump in my
throat.
“I’m crazy,” I whisper to the floor.
“No David, you are not
crazy. Having a mental illness does not mean you’re crazy. In fact I think you
are an incredible intelligent man and a loving husband and father.”
“What about Danna and Charlie, how do I go home and
tell them this. How do I raise my daughter like this…I don’t want to hurt her
of Danna…if I got this bipolar disorder, I have to be a danger to them.”
“David, I don’t believe for a second that you would
hurt your wife or new born. I think you care greatly about them; you lit up
like a Christmas tree when I asked you about them. And I think your wife will
understand. From what you have told me she has been concerned about your
wellbeing for years now. With that in mind I think she will be relieved that we
now know what’s going on with you. And the even better news is that this is a
manageable illness. There are medications that can help keep you level. I think
if you let me help you we can get this under control and you can live a
relatively normal life.”
“Medications? What kind of medications?”
“I would like to start you on a mood stabilizer. The
most common one is lithium; however the level of lithium in your body has to be
closely monitored, so you would have to periodically get your blood checked to
make sure your level isn’t too high.”
“I hate needles,” I say. “Is that the only option?
Can’t we try something else?”
We talk a while longer. He tells me about several
different medications that have been proven to work well as mood stabilizers.
He said if I was against Lithium that we could try another mood stabilizer but
if we go that route he would like to put me on an antipsychotic to try and get
the paranoia under control and better manage my manic episode. I am in a daze
as he talks. I try and listen but the longer I sit there the more anxious I
get. In the end he decides to put me on Lamitrogen and Abilify. He said Abilify
can also have good results with depression so it may also help out with the
depressive espisode. I don’t really say anything to him as we walk back to the
unit. I have been pretty quiet for the past, however long it’s been. I nodded
and say yes and no when it was appropriate but outside of that I haven’t really
spoken. I feel like my world has crashed down around me, and for the love of
God I still feel like someone is following me and even though I try and tell
myself it’s just in my head I can’t help but look behind us as we walk. Fear
grips my heart as he opens the door to the unit.
“I will see you tomorrow, ok David?” he says.
“Ok.”
The past two days have passed in a blur; I finally
slept last night, first time in about a week, and I am finally able to eat a
little, but I still can’t shake the feeling that someone is after me. I keep
telling myself it’s just in my head but I can’t quit believe myself. Dr.
Collins says it can take a while for the medications to work and the effects
would come on subtly. I asked how long I would have to stay here and he said
maybe in another week we would see how I was doing and perhaps talk about going
home.
I’ve been seeing a counselor here, she’s nice but I
don’t trust her. I feel stupid sitting in her office and trying to talk about
my life to her. She has talked to me about setting a routine for my life.
Things like scheduling sleep, exercise and work. She says that if I get a
routine and stick to it that it can go a long way in managed my illness.
I’m slowly adjusting to the idea of bipolar disorder
being a part of my life. I’m not gonna lie and say it’s easy…honestly when I
really think about it, it’s kind of devastating. I don’t know how I am going to
face my congregation knowing I’m like this. How many times have I preached that
mental illness is not a real illness? How many times have I stood behind my
pulpit and told the members of my church that prayer and patience is the
solution to depression and mental illness. I feel like such a hypocrite. I’ve
been thinking about quitting and calling dad up to see if he can get me a job
in his construction company.
Danna is finally coming to see me today. She had to
find someone to watch Charlie, seeing as she can’t bring Charlie in here, and
it has taken a while to find someone we trust to do it. I asked her not to tell
anyone where I am. I don’t want anyone to know that I’m locked up in this
place. Everyone knows what Laurelwood is and if they find out I’m here then I
will never be able to face my congregation again, that is if I do decide to
keep preaching.
I miss my girls a lot. I really wanna see them both,
but I guess getting to see Danna will have to be enough for now.
Trey comes to get me when it’s time to go see Danna. I
have kind of taken a liking to him. He’s a Christian and takes the time to ask
me how I’m feeling and he really listens to me. He has a wife and two little
girls. He tells me stories about taking them to the park and seeing them play
in the mud. I laugh as I picture two little girls running up to him covered in
mud. Talking to Trey makes me feel normal, which is something I haven’t felt
since my first conversation with Dr. Collins.
Danna is sitting in at a little table in the center of
the cafeteria. There are a few other patients around talking to their visitors
but I only have eyes for her. She has her red hair pinned up in a bun and there
are little fly away pieces falling around her face. She smiles when our eyes
meet and I feel my heart pick up pace. She stands up and moves around to the
other side of the table, stretching out her arms to hug me. I want to run to
her, but I don’t want to alarm anyone, so I take fast long strides toward her.
I wrap my arms around her, kiss her hair and rest my head next to her. I don’t
ever want to let her go.
She pulls back and looks up at me. Her eyes are
brimmed with tears and I feel my heart break.
“Baby, please don’t cry,” I say, my voice cracks as I
fight back my own tears. “I’m so sorry…I’m sorry.”
“No…no, don’t apologize, I’m just so happy your ok. I
was so scared that you were hurt when you didn’t come home. I love you so much,
I could bear the thought of you lying in a ditch somewhere,” she says, wiping
her eyes.
I run my hands down her arms to her waist. She still
has her baby weight, which honestly makes her even sexier to me.
“I love you too,” I say. I give her a small smile and
gesture to the table, “let’s have a seat.”
