24 hours of thought -- Sooo funny!

So I've been going through some of the stuff recovered from my apartment, and I came across the notebook that they gave when I was in the ER back in August.  They wouldn't let me have my journal because apparently the spiral binding was dangerous, so they gave me this other notepad instead.  I started writing and didn't stop for the next 24 hours or so (there was no way I was sleeping that first night).  The result is a hilarious mismash of thoughts, emotions, etc.  Well, it's not all funny.  The first page or so scares me because I really don't sound like myself.  I sound like a child.  For those that weren't around my blog back then or don't remember, my trip to the hospital involved multiple cops grabbing me hard enough to leave bruises, hands all over me to search me, being handcuffed, then tied down to the stretcher.  More than a little traumatizing!  By the time I made it to the ER I was very, very disoriented.  When they asked me what had happened for me to end up there I honestly couldn't remember.  Anyway, I'm tempted to post the whole 24 hours because it really is amazing, but it's also more than 20 pages so I thought I'd give some highlights instead.  I'm skipping the really traumatized stuff.  I'm sure ya'll can imagine.  

This starts right after the really traumatized, panicky stuff:

"I really want to go home.  Don't like being locked in here.  I need a window.  There shouldn't be places without windows.  Everyone needs a window.

I was just asked if I'm doing ok.  I wonder what that means.  Exactly what kind of ok are they looking for and how would I know if I am it?  I'm every level of miserable.  "Yep," I'm ok.  Nice.  I don't think they want the truth.

I hate every fucking thing about this damn place.  I've been locked up way too many times in my life.  How is this supposed to make me feel BETTER?!  Once again the punishment for feeling lousy.  Nice.  Would anyone feel good in here?  Oh and give me a damn window already!  But if my spiral notebook is a danger I'm sure I could do all sorts of evil with a window.

Yeah they probably don't want to hear that."

Later on I go back to the spiral notebook and the window, wondering if there's a book somewhere of crazy shit ppl have tried in psych hospitals.  I mean there must be some really entertaining ones considering the stuff they've banned.  Here's some more ranting from a bit later on:

"Why do I seem to be the last priority here?  Stuff is happening with the people on both sides of me but I seem to be the forgotten one.  Oh well, at least I didn't have to deal with being the forgotten one at the regular ER first.  I guess coming in attached to the bed does have its advantages."

I am rather impressed with myself that I managed to keep my sense of humor, as freaked out and suicidal as I was.

"I'm going to have to pee in that stupid cup soon.  I wonder what kind of drugs they think I'm on.  I know it's standard but I still wonder.  They clearly think i'm on something.  My "I don't remember" line probably didn't help anything but I really don't.  funny how a quick re-traumatization can knock the slate clean."

"They just changed the board in here.  I have three techs now.  Or maybe one person with 3 names.  Amanda John Brad would be a very odd name, but weirder things have happened.  I wonder what a tech is.

I'm tired.  It's 8:15 now.  I wish I had a window.  The board says I have a new Dr. ignoring me now.  Dr. Riley.  I like that name.  I wonder if it's a boy or a girl.  It's probably the last name."

At this point I went in to a very long-winded bit about how I like the name Riley for a boy or a girl, and how I find it interesting that it brings up very different images as a male name vs. a female.  Then I went on to say that I felt bad for the 40-something male Riley's of the world because ppl would see their name and expect them to be a little girl.  (I taught a ski lesson and all I knew was that my student's name was Riley.  I experienced that surprise.  lol)  I continued into a whole bunch about what names should and shouldn't be used on both genders and how certain names annoy me.  After a brief movie reference I got back to the peeing in the cup:

"I'm gonna have to go pee in that damn cup now.  I'm taking this notebook with me though.  I don't care what they say.  I don't trust these people not to read it.  I really hope I can go home tomorrow.  I really need clean underwear.  But can't ask anyone to bring it for me unless I can convince them to wash it first."

I then got distracted reminiscing about the last time I was in the hospital and wondering if this one was going to be like that one.  Then a bit about ppl I wished were there.  Then:

"I forgot to pee.  I'll go do that now.

It's a good thing this isn't really a letter as I sure do mention pee a lot."

This whole thing had started as a letter to a friend but clearly it didn't stay that way for long. lol

"Know what's weird?  It's Tuesday.  Yeah, that's weird."

Later I was talking about seeing the hospital staff eating dinner and thinking about how hungry I was.  I went through what I had eaten (a granola bar, and that I was grateful to my former employer for giving me a big box of them cus I'd basically been living off them), and then I wondered what I needed to do to get food.  Apparently I eventually got some:

"Have you ever noticed that skepticism breeds skepticism?  They poured out my water cus they thought it was lord knows what.  Now I'm scared to death of this "turkey sandwich" they just brought me.  Slab of turkey with crap white bread attached to it.  Talk about life of luxury here!  Eh, I never have been one to turn down free food.  This is pushin' it though.  It comes with a note that says I ordered it too late.  Haha.

I wonder if the guy in the orange jumpsuit is still here.  I wonder what his story is.  Funny that of the two of us he had much more freedom of movement.

At least there's mayo for the sandwich.  Mayo makes everything better.  I'm choosing not to notice that the mayo is yellow.

It's a good thing I like to write.  Don't know what I would've done with all this time otherwise.  It's 9:00 now.  I sure would like a drink.  Or 5.

I feel a little better now that I'm eating.  It's craptastic, but edible.

I wonder where I'll be this time tomorrow.  I'll be 27 then.  Strange.  I remember thinking I'd be normal by the time I was 20.  Or 18 even.  Ha ha.  Ha ha ha.  No 18 year olds are normal, and most 20 year olds aren't so that part's understandable, but still."

Saying understandable got this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SBM82Ju2kJU in my head so I wrote out a bunch of the lyrics to that, and wrote about some fun times I had with a friend singing that song.  Then I went in to why it was good I didn't have a gun, mainly because there would've been "a lot of kablooey brain splatter."  lol  Back to something a bit more light-hearted:

"I saw a great bumper sticker earlier today.  It said "I wish Morgan Freeman narrates my life." or something like that.  That'd be pretty cool.  Except that my life is pretty boring...with intermittant bits of crazy chaos.  

I wonder why they still aren't coming to talk to me.  Maybe I need to look bored-er.  Or unstabler.  Damn my getting punished for doing well.  Doh!"

I'm noticing I was very convinced I was getting punished for one thing or another.  lol It's hard to have any perspective when you're locked in like that.  Later I started getting tired...but refused to lay in the bed because it had the restraints on it:

"I'm really sleepy.  I wish the bed wasn't so scary.

2% milk tastes a bit like garbage.  I'd forgotten that.  I wonder if I'd like skim milk now even.  My stomach seems unhappy with it.  But I want the calories.  All 120 of them.  Ha."

I'm allergic to dairy so I hadn't had "real" milk in a long time.  At this point they moved me from the ER to the psych unit and took away my pen and gave me a tiny golf pencil.

"I've been demoted to a pencil now.  Those pens are dangerous business.  It's 12:50 now.  So much for sleep.  I was actually feelin pretty good at 10 or so sleepin on the floor with the wonder drug.  I got a few minutes of actual sleep and I felt kinda sorta good.  I was singing Fantasia-like ice skating type songs in my head while watching the feet move through the hall through the crack under the door.  To make it not scary it was like a dance.  With cheesy music.  I smiled.  A few times.

Now we're back to the crap.  I don't know why I thought I'd get my own room.  Why didn't I realize I'd have to share a room?  especially not with 3 others.  Yikes!"

I don't remember what the wonder drug was, but the woman who gave it to me said it was like having a drink.  I couldn't grab it from her fast enough! lol  Those of you that know my frontierville obsession will appreciate this next part:

"At least tomorrow I can apparently get online so I can check on my poor lil cows and geese.  They must be so lonely!  They haven't had anyone tending to them for hours!  So unusual for them!  They're going to think they've been deserted by the end of this if I wasn't able to visit them.  So for the baby cows' sake, yay for having internet!"

Don't worry, I did eventually get to updating people by way of the internet as well...not just the baby cows.  lol  After a rant about how I had to update ppl cus it was my birthday, and my complete lack of party planning abilities...

"In other news, people shouldn't be allowed to ask me so many questions when I'm this tired.  I'm volunteering all sorts of information that they really don't need to know at all.  I could've kept my mouth shut on A LOT of that stuff.  Argh!

Why did writing A LOT make me think of houses?  I want to watch the movie Up again.  Funny how I didn't like it much the first time I saw it but I've liked it more and more every time since.  Always reaching new levels of awesomeness.  Like ME!  Haha yeah right.  But anyway...

This place is nutty!  And not just because it's filled with all of us crazies.  How can I sleep in a room with 3 people I've never met before who are likely at least as crazy as I am?  Yikes!

I really am tired though.  I'm going to have to change my name to sir-yawns-a-lot.  errr ma'am?  Ma'am is so much less fun for nicknames!  I guess I could go Native American style and say she-who-yawns-often, or she-who-yawns-like-great-puppy.  Yeah that could work.  Puppy yawns are the best!"

I think she-who-yawns-like-great-puppy might be my favorite line in the whole thing because it's just so damn random!  After a bit of writing about puppies I know, I continued...

"So I think this notebook is going to become my thing.  After all, 15 pages in one evening is not too shabby.  I'll be like Harriet the Spy or something, documenting everything in my handy dandy notebook.  Oh wait, that's Blues Clues.  But at least then we get to proclaim that we're really smart, and that's always fun.

In West Philadelphia born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days.  Yeah I have weird songs in my head right now.  Did you know that New Kids on the Block had a bunch of hits/  Oh, and Chinese food makes me sick."

If that last line doesn't make sense to you, go here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r1dfEf1qOt4  It doesn't get much more awesomely bad than that.  

"Apparently my body is attempting to avoid sleep.  Though it's getting tougher.  Maybe I should try though.  I've been spilling stuff I never thought I'd say.  So unfair to be interviewed by a psychiatrist at 2am!  It's like army torture!  They wear you down slowly til you spill.  Scared to think of what's going to happen tomorrow.  Needles at 4am?  It's my birthday damnit!"

I'm not sure what needles I was referring to.  Apparently they were telling me they were going to come back to take blood or something.

"Have I mentioned lately how much I absolutely hate this place?  I thought they were going to come with meds but apparently not.  I'm curious but not sure if it's worth going to check to find out.  Might be able to sleep on my own at this point but kinda want the meds if they're offering.  It's 2:50 AM, do you know where your brain is?  I sure as hell don't!"

From there it's more whining and trying to guess when they start counting the 72 hour hold time from.  Then I start talking about how sick I'm feeling.  I was probably detoxing but I wasn't about to admit that might be what's making me sick.  Then a long rant about how I want to lock myself in a hotel room and do nothing but drink, because that was my dream at that point.  

"Maybe once everyone else gets up I can go to sleep.  I like alone.  A lot.  That's all I want.  Alone.

I wish I could go outside.  It's too stuffy and inside here. (Yes, it's too inside here...lol)

My stomach hurts.

I want to play softball.

I complain a lot."

A new pencil...more complaining about the lack of outside and how it's making me crazy...how much I want to cut...how much I want to go for a walk outside...(they teased us by saying we were going for a walk, which turned out to be playing a video and having ppl walk in place.  How lame is THAT?!  Apparently the tiredness began catching up with me again:

"I wish I could take a nap.  Naps are fun.  This couch is kinda nice.  I could sleep on it.  I'd like to put the TV on but that's a no no.  Lots of things are no nos here.  This must be what it feels like to be 2.

I remember reading that article a while ago, about life from a 2 year old perspective:  Constantly being redirected, fun adventures quashed for reasons you don't understand, and beautiful fun looking places out there but just out of your reach.  You see other people getting to do what you want, but you're forever trapped behind the baby gate.  You wonder and dream about escape, but escape is nowhere to be found.  You're teased with it, sometimes you get a tiny taste, then back behind the gate."

More ranting...counting hours...apparently it was 10:40, which meant I had 54 hours left, which made me depressed.  Then how much I wanted pills, how lonely I was, and "happy fucking birthday to me." Back to the tiredness:

"I need a nap.  Nap.  Nap.  Nap.  Yeah my thought process has become limited.  Nap.  Nap.  Nap.  Nap.  Nap.  Nap.  Oh and did I mention?  Nap."

More talk of my time being wasted...(they really did seem to ignore me the entire first day...which was frustrating because I had SO much to do outside the hospital and I felt like as long as I was there they should be at least talking to me).  More concern over the frontierville cows...Some commentary on one nurse being bitchy to the others...some congratulating myself because "I may not be able to do much, but I sure can write a lot of shit!"  And then I reach the point where they must have finally paid attention to me, or given me sleeping meds, or something, because it ends rather abruptly.  

"I wish I could write faster.  I have lots of songs in my head.  Which is now la bamba.  Funny how being in a hospital is making me sick.  Stupid hospital.  Trix are for kids."

LOL love that.  Stupid hospital, Trix are for kids!  So this is still long, and may not be funny to anyone else besides me, but I've read it through multiple times and still crack up every time.  There was soooo much craziness in my head during all of that.  And parts of it bring back such distinct memories...like sitting out in the hallway pissing off the night nurses because I refused to go in my room w/3 other ppl I didn't know, especially not to sleep.  Then having those same nurses tell me it's probably better I stay in the hallway since there were more ppl coming back to talk to me and what not they might as well just have me wait there.  What a time that was.  It all got much better the 2nd night when they gave me amazing sleeping pills and I slept a very very deep sleep for at least 12 hours straight.  Gave a whole new perspective on the world!  Anyway, hope you all have enjoyed this journey through my random thoughts.  :)

In other news, I just got a call from my friend from IOP who was in jail due to a DUI.  I've mentioned her in the past...she had gotten her 3rd DUI prior to coming in to IOP and ended up going to jail for it even though they were waaaaaaay spaced out (like the others were 18 and 20 years ago) and she was doing really well on her own, but it's a mandatory sentence for your 3rd.  Anyway, she is out now and it was so good to hear from her.  We're meeting for lunch on Wednesday.  I've been trying to send her at least a card a week since she went in in January.  She said that my cards were "a ray of sunshine" and that the other women there would all get excited along with her.  Apparently ppl would ask her if she "got a new card from River?" and said they wanted their own River too.  (She said no, I'm not sharing! lol)  I'm a little embarrassed to know that lots of other ppl were reading my cards too.  Not because there was anything bad on them but they were all filled with my very dorky humor.  For example for her Easter card I was guessing there were no easter egg hunts in jail but what a great image it was to imagine one.  Then I drew her a "not very hard to find easter egg hunt" with a whole bunch of eggs in a row.  lol  On other cards I tried to find ways to get sparkles in them, because the first one was had sparkly stickers and I learned you can't send stickers to a jail.  (Apparently ppl put drugs in adhesive or something?).  Anyway, she said everyone liked them, so I guess I shouldn't be too worried.  If my dorkiness can make some bummed out ppl in jail smile, it's a good day.  :)