| General Fiction posted April 2, 2017 | Chapters: |
...7 8 -9- 10 
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Gary sees the effects of mental illness
A chapter in the book One man's journey to get clean
Reality Strikes
by Mustang Patty
So far, we've been following Gary Thompson's journey to kick his addiction.
We've been introduced to his mother, Mary. His phone call to her about entering rehab was met with tears of relief.
We were with Gary as he was beginning to digest the dual diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and Bi Polar. We listened to him share at his last NA group while in the Addiction unit, and we read along as Gary wrote his mother a letter.
Rejoining the story, we find ourselves in Roger's office. Roger is the therapist assigned to Gary's case, and they are deep into a counseling session.
"How are the group meetings going for you, Gary?"
Looking at Roger and wondering how much he should say, Gary replied, "The meetings are okay. I'm just not sure I'm getting anything out of it. Most of the guys are really off the wall. There are five of us in the group, and everyone talks about these crazy things they did while they were using. I'm not sure I can relate."
"What do you find so crazy about their antics?"
"One guy, his name is Paul, talks about getting drunk and beating up his girlfriend. Hell, he even talks about beating up his mother. I don't think I could ever do that."
Consulting his notes, Roger looked closely at Gary. "Do you remember telling me that you were arrested for domestic violence? Don't you think it’s the same thing?"
"That was all just a big misunderstanding. I didn't hit Andrew. He fell down and got a rug burn on his face. That's why the police arrested me. He had the damage that showed. There were a few scratches on him, too. What he had done to me just didn't show."
"By definition what you're describing is domestic violence."
"Really?" Gary remembered the whole scene. Andrew was never mad about it. They were both trashed. They had been out partying and things just got out of hand. "I didn't mean to hurt him. We were both drunk."
"It's time for you to face some things. Your behavior is a combination of self-medication with drugs and alcohol, and your unwillingness to look at the truth. Have you shared any of your problems with the group?"
"No. In all honesty, I don't think I'm anything like those guys. Well, maybe Chad. He is here for the same things as me. He was originally on the rehab unit and got sent over here when they realized he was Bipolar. When I listen to him talk, I can identify with what he's going through. We attend the NA meetings together and we actually have some things in common, but when he talks about the other stuff that got him in trouble, I just can't relate."
"When you look back over the past few years, aren't there things you're ashamed of, or embarrassed by? Have you written any of those things in your journal like we talked about?"
"In all honesty, I haven't written anything in the journal. It seems stupid. What am I supposed to put in here?" Gary reached into his back pocket where he carried the notebook folded in half. Unfurling the pad, he shook it at Roger. "And all they gave me to write with is a pencil! I can't write with a pencil. I need a pen."
"Gary, the journal is part of your therapy. We only meet for an hour each day. You only have group for another hour. There are things that will come to you at other times during the day. So, you need to write about them and reflect on them. Maybe you would see that you do have things to talk about at group. Maybe you will see that you're not so different. You need to stop thinking you're better than the rest of the guys. That's the Borderline Personality Disorder talking. You feel like your condition is special. Like you have more going on than the rest of the guys. At the end of the day, you're in that group because you are like them."
Gary stared blankly at Roger. He didn't know what to say, but then Roger continued.
"And we can't give you a pen because you are in a mental ward. Too many of these folks would either use the pen as a weapon, or at best, use the ink for tattoos."
With a sigh, Roger continued, "Our time is up for today. When you come in tomorrow, I want to see two full pages of notes in your journal. I want you to concentrate on your feelings about why you're here. That will be a start."
Leaving Roger's office, Gary felt his stomach rumbling. The aroma from the kitchen was tantalizing. He stuck his notebook back in his pocket, and started toward the cafeteria. Macaroni and cheese was on the menu for the day. He was certain there would be a line.
The line didn't disappoint, and Gary fell into the queue. He was just picking up his tray and cutlery, when he heard a loud voice behind him.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN'T HAVE SECONDS?"
The whole cafeteria stopped and quiet blanketed the scene. Only the yelling of one person was heard. Chad was at the center of the chaos, and he continued to bellow, "IT'S BAD ENOUGH I HAVE TO BE IN HERE WITH THESE PEOPLE… these, these LOSERS!"
"I'M HUNGRY!! IT SAYS IN THE PATIENT'S RIGHTS THAT I'M ENTITLED TO EAT. I WANT MORE MACARONI AND CHEESE!"
From the corner of his eye, Gary saw two of the larger male nurses quietly enter the cafeteria. Everyone was frozen in place except Chad. He became more and more agitated and flung his tray across the room.
Ducking down, Gary ventured a look from behind his raised hand. Chad seems bigger somehow and the edges of Gary's vision clouded over. He knows Chad is losing it. He saw his mother lose it when he was a kid. These episodes could get dangerous. Gary was more scared than he wants to admit.
"WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?" Chad glared at the nurse. With deliberate motion, the nurses rush towards Chad, and he threw a punch. One of the nurses came flying back in Gary's direction. As Gary was trying to get up, Chad aimed his plastic knife at the other nurse.
"LEAVE ME ALONE! ALL OF YOU! I'M TIRED OF THIS PLACE. YOU CAN'T EVEN GET A GOOD MEAL OR FILL YOUR BELLY."
Roger and Dr. Wilbert crept into the cafeteria. Gently, Dr. Wilbert called to Chad. "Come on, Chad. Put the knife down. You don't want to hurt anyone. I tell you what, you come with me, and I'll get you more macaroni and cheese."
The calming voice did little for Chad's agitation. Gary watched him carefully as he started to shake. He continued to watch as the nurse came behind Chad. A flash of the hypodermic as it slid into his neck. It only seemed like seconds before Chad went to the ground in a heap.
Strong arms carried Chad out of the cafeteria and a low buzzing could be heard as the room slowly came back to life. Everyone talked at the same time. The decibel level rose to a crescendo with excited voices. Gary was still reeling from the episode. He did his best to get his food and eat, but his appetite had left him. After staring at his food for several minutes, he took his tray to the garbage, and left the room.
Gary was shaken up and retreated to the dayroom with the rest of the patients. Realizing that Chad is 'one of his own,' Gary reflected on his own past manic behaviors. Looking at the blank page in front of him, he grabs his pencil. Gary struggled with how to begin. Girls wrote their entries as 'Dear Diary.' He didn't want to do that. With a sudden inspiration, he wrote:
Colonel's Log, Psych Date,7075
Therefore, but for the grace of God, go I…or something like that.
So far, we've been following Gary Thompson's journey to kick his addiction.
We've been introduced to his mother, Mary. His phone call to her about entering rehab was met with tears of relief.
We were with Gary as he was beginning to digest the dual diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and Bi Polar. We listened to him share at his last NA group while in the Addiction unit, and we read along as Gary wrote his mother a letter.
Rejoining the story, we find ourselves in Roger's office. Roger is the therapist assigned to Gary's case, and they are deep into a counseling session.
"How are the group meetings going for you, Gary?"
Looking at Roger and wondering how much he should say, Gary replied, "The meetings are okay. I'm just not sure I'm getting anything out of it. Most of the guys are really off the wall. There are five of us in the group, and everyone talks about these crazy things they did while they were using. I'm not sure I can relate."
"What do you find so crazy about their antics?"
"One guy, his name is Paul, talks about getting drunk and beating up his girlfriend. Hell, he even talks about beating up his mother. I don't think I could ever do that."
Consulting his notes, Roger looked closely at Gary. "Do you remember telling me that you were arrested for domestic violence? Don't you think it’s the same thing?"
"That was all just a big misunderstanding. I didn't hit Andrew. He fell down and got a rug burn on his face. That's why the police arrested me. He had the damage that showed. There were a few scratches on him, too. What he had done to me just didn't show."
"By definition what you're describing is domestic violence."
"Really?" Gary remembered the whole scene. Andrew was never mad about it. They were both trashed. They had been out partying and things just got out of hand. "I didn't mean to hurt him. We were both drunk."
"It's time for you to face some things. Your behavior is a combination of self-medication with drugs and alcohol, and your unwillingness to look at the truth. Have you shared any of your problems with the group?"
"No. In all honesty, I don't think I'm anything like those guys. Well, maybe Chad. He is here for the same things as me. He was originally on the rehab unit and got sent over here when they realized he was Bipolar. When I listen to him talk, I can identify with what he's going through. We attend the NA meetings together and we actually have some things in common, but when he talks about the other stuff that got him in trouble, I just can't relate."
"When you look back over the past few years, aren't there things you're ashamed of, or embarrassed by? Have you written any of those things in your journal like we talked about?"
"In all honesty, I haven't written anything in the journal. It seems stupid. What am I supposed to put in here?" Gary reached into his back pocket where he carried the notebook folded in half. Unfurling the pad, he shook it at Roger. "And all they gave me to write with is a pencil! I can't write with a pencil. I need a pen."
"Gary, the journal is part of your therapy. We only meet for an hour each day. You only have group for another hour. There are things that will come to you at other times during the day. So, you need to write about them and reflect on them. Maybe you would see that you do have things to talk about at group. Maybe you will see that you're not so different. You need to stop thinking you're better than the rest of the guys. That's the Borderline Personality Disorder talking. You feel like your condition is special. Like you have more going on than the rest of the guys. At the end of the day, you're in that group because you are like them."
Gary stared blankly at Roger. He didn't know what to say, but then Roger continued.
"And we can't give you a pen because you are in a mental ward. Too many of these folks would either use the pen as a weapon, or at best, use the ink for tattoos."
With a sigh, Roger continued, "Our time is up for today. When you come in tomorrow, I want to see two full pages of notes in your journal. I want you to concentrate on your feelings about why you're here. That will be a start."
Leaving Roger's office, Gary felt his stomach rumbling. The aroma from the kitchen was tantalizing. He stuck his notebook back in his pocket, and started toward the cafeteria. Macaroni and cheese was on the menu for the day. He was certain there would be a line.
The line didn't disappoint, and Gary fell into the queue. He was just picking up his tray and cutlery, when he heard a loud voice behind him.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN'T HAVE SECONDS?"
The whole cafeteria stopped and quiet blanketed the scene. Only the yelling of one person was heard. Chad was at the center of the chaos, and he continued to bellow, "IT'S BAD ENOUGH I HAVE TO BE IN HERE WITH THESE PEOPLE… these, these LOSERS!"
"I'M HUNGRY!! IT SAYS IN THE PATIENT'S RIGHTS THAT I'M ENTITLED TO EAT. I WANT MORE MACARONI AND CHEESE!"
From the corner of his eye, Gary saw two of the larger male nurses quietly enter the cafeteria. Everyone was frozen in place except Chad. He became more and more agitated and flung his tray across the room.
Ducking down, Gary ventured a look from behind his raised hand. Chad seems bigger somehow and the edges of Gary's vision clouded over. He knows Chad is losing it. He saw his mother lose it when he was a kid. These episodes could get dangerous. Gary was more scared than he wants to admit.
"WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?" Chad glared at the nurse. With deliberate motion, the nurses rush towards Chad, and he threw a punch. One of the nurses came flying back in Gary's direction. As Gary was trying to get up, Chad aimed his plastic knife at the other nurse.
"LEAVE ME ALONE! ALL OF YOU! I'M TIRED OF THIS PLACE. YOU CAN'T EVEN GET A GOOD MEAL OR FILL YOUR BELLY."
Roger and Dr. Wilbert crept into the cafeteria. Gently, Dr. Wilbert called to Chad. "Come on, Chad. Put the knife down. You don't want to hurt anyone. I tell you what, you come with me, and I'll get you more macaroni and cheese."
The calming voice did little for Chad's agitation. Gary watched him carefully as he started to shake. He continued to watch as the nurse came behind Chad. A flash of the hypodermic as it slid into his neck. It only seemed like seconds before Chad went to the ground in a heap.
Strong arms carried Chad out of the cafeteria and a low buzzing could be heard as the room slowly came back to life. Everyone talked at the same time. The decibel level rose to a crescendo with excited voices. Gary was still reeling from the episode. He did his best to get his food and eat, but his appetite had left him. After staring at his food for several minutes, he took his tray to the garbage, and left the room.
Gary was shaken up and retreated to the dayroom with the rest of the patients. Realizing that Chad is 'one of his own,' Gary reflected on his own past manic behaviors. Looking at the blank page in front of him, he grabs his pencil. Gary struggled with how to begin. Girls wrote their entries as 'Dear Diary.' He didn't want to do that. With a sudden inspiration, he wrote:
Colonel's Log, Psych Date,7075
Therefore, but for the grace of God, go I…or something like that.
We've been introduced to his mother, Mary. His phone call to her about entering rehab was met with tears of relief.
We were with Gary as he was beginning to digest the dual diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and Bi Polar. We listened to him share at his last NA group while in the Addiction unit, and we read along as Gary wrote his mother a letter.
Rejoining the story, we find ourselves in Roger's office. Roger is the therapist assigned to Gary's case, and they are deep into a counseling session.
"How are the group meetings going for you, Gary?"
Looking at Roger and wondering how much he should say, Gary replied, "The meetings are okay. I'm just not sure I'm getting anything out of it. Most of the guys are really off the wall. There are five of us in the group, and everyone talks about these crazy things they did while they were using. I'm not sure I can relate."
"What do you find so crazy about their antics?"
"One guy, his name is Paul, talks about getting drunk and beating up his girlfriend. Hell, he even talks about beating up his mother. I don't think I could ever do that."
Consulting his notes, Roger looked closely at Gary. "Do you remember telling me that you were arrested for domestic violence? Don't you think it’s the same thing?"
"That was all just a big misunderstanding. I didn't hit Andrew. He fell down and got a rug burn on his face. That's why the police arrested me. He had the damage that showed. There were a few scratches on him, too. What he had done to me just didn't show."
"By definition what you're describing is domestic violence."
"Really?" Gary remembered the whole scene. Andrew was never mad about it. They were both trashed. They had been out partying and things just got out of hand. "I didn't mean to hurt him. We were both drunk."
"It's time for you to face some things. Your behavior is a combination of self-medication with drugs and alcohol, and your unwillingness to look at the truth. Have you shared any of your problems with the group?"
"No. In all honesty, I don't think I'm anything like those guys. Well, maybe Chad. He is here for the same things as me. He was originally on the rehab unit and got sent over here when they realized he was Bipolar. When I listen to him talk, I can identify with what he's going through. We attend the NA meetings together and we actually have some things in common, but when he talks about the other stuff that got him in trouble, I just can't relate."
"When you look back over the past few years, aren't there things you're ashamed of, or embarrassed by? Have you written any of those things in your journal like we talked about?"
"In all honesty, I haven't written anything in the journal. It seems stupid. What am I supposed to put in here?" Gary reached into his back pocket where he carried the notebook folded in half. Unfurling the pad, he shook it at Roger. "And all they gave me to write with is a pencil! I can't write with a pencil. I need a pen."
"Gary, the journal is part of your therapy. We only meet for an hour each day. You only have group for another hour. There are things that will come to you at other times during the day. So, you need to write about them and reflect on them. Maybe you would see that you do have things to talk about at group. Maybe you will see that you're not so different. You need to stop thinking you're better than the rest of the guys. That's the Borderline Personality Disorder talking. You feel like your condition is special. Like you have more going on than the rest of the guys. At the end of the day, you're in that group because you are like them."
Gary stared blankly at Roger. He didn't know what to say, but then Roger continued.
"And we can't give you a pen because you are in a mental ward. Too many of these folks would either use the pen as a weapon, or at best, use the ink for tattoos."
With a sigh, Roger continued, "Our time is up for today. When you come in tomorrow, I want to see two full pages of notes in your journal. I want you to concentrate on your feelings about why you're here. That will be a start."
Leaving Roger's office, Gary felt his stomach rumbling. The aroma from the kitchen was tantalizing. He stuck his notebook back in his pocket, and started toward the cafeteria. Macaroni and cheese was on the menu for the day. He was certain there would be a line.
The line didn't disappoint, and Gary fell into the queue. He was just picking up his tray and cutlery, when he heard a loud voice behind him.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN'T HAVE SECONDS?"
The whole cafeteria stopped and quiet blanketed the scene. Only the yelling of one person was heard. Chad was at the center of the chaos, and he continued to bellow, "IT'S BAD ENOUGH I HAVE TO BE IN HERE WITH THESE PEOPLE… these, these LOSERS!"
"I'M HUNGRY!! IT SAYS IN THE PATIENT'S RIGHTS THAT I'M ENTITLED TO EAT. I WANT MORE MACARONI AND CHEESE!"
From the corner of his eye, Gary saw two of the larger male nurses quietly enter the cafeteria. Everyone was frozen in place except Chad. He became more and more agitated and flung his tray across the room.
Ducking down, Gary ventured a look from behind his raised hand. Chad seems bigger somehow and the edges of Gary's vision clouded over. He knows Chad is losing it. He saw his mother lose it when he was a kid. These episodes could get dangerous. Gary was more scared than he wants to admit.
"WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?" Chad glared at the nurse. With deliberate motion, the nurses rush towards Chad, and he threw a punch. One of the nurses came flying back in Gary's direction. As Gary was trying to get up, Chad aimed his plastic knife at the other nurse.
"LEAVE ME ALONE! ALL OF YOU! I'M TIRED OF THIS PLACE. YOU CAN'T EVEN GET A GOOD MEAL OR FILL YOUR BELLY."
Roger and Dr. Wilbert crept into the cafeteria. Gently, Dr. Wilbert called to Chad. "Come on, Chad. Put the knife down. You don't want to hurt anyone. I tell you what, you come with me, and I'll get you more macaroni and cheese."
The calming voice did little for Chad's agitation. Gary watched him carefully as he started to shake. He continued to watch as the nurse came behind Chad. A flash of the hypodermic as it slid into his neck. It only seemed like seconds before Chad went to the ground in a heap.
Strong arms carried Chad out of the cafeteria and a low buzzing could be heard as the room slowly came back to life. Everyone talked at the same time. The decibel level rose to a crescendo with excited voices. Gary was still reeling from the episode. He did his best to get his food and eat, but his appetite had left him. After staring at his food for several minutes, he took his tray to the garbage, and left the room.
Gary was shaken up and retreated to the dayroom with the rest of the patients. Realizing that Chad is 'one of his own,' Gary reflected on his own past manic behaviors. Looking at the blank page in front of him, he grabs his pencil. Gary struggled with how to begin. Girls wrote their entries as 'Dear Diary.' He didn't want to do that. With a sudden inspiration, he wrote:
Colonel's Log, Psych Date,7075
Therefore, but for the grace of God, go I…or something like that.
 Recognized |
|
We're coming to the end of Gary's journey. The next chapter will be the last in his story. Thank you to those who have read along with my telling of this tale.
Gary: Our protagonist
Roger: Gary's therapist
Dr. Wilbert: The facility's psychiatrist
Chad: Another patient in Gary's group
Paul: Another patient in Gary's group
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Gary: Our protagonist
Roger: Gary's therapist
Dr. Wilbert: The facility's psychiatrist
Chad: Another patient in Gary's group
Paul: Another patient in Gary's group
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