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Mental Illness Halloween Horror Stories
#1
1syellow1

   Hi—thanks for dropping in!

   So! For next month's Halloween, I just thought I'd start a thread for those with Mental&/Emotional Disorders—share your horror stories about what your illness has put you through; and by that I mean: Experiences of what your sickness has made you believe. For instance, uncontrollable voices and images that play out a nightmarish & spooky story in your life.

   C'mon people, I've got to get >50 posts here ..

   I'll be first to share! Sit back, drink some hot Ovaltine or something and have a cigarette or whatever vice you've developed!



   It was a hellish, heated Las Vegas afternoon about three years ago. I felt rancid, confounded—almost vegetative. My medications weren't working for me, I thought, (Do they ever)? I was in dire need of sleep.

   I could already tell that I was in for yet another medical hospital stay. Pacing around the apartment, rubbing my left hand along my right arm in desperation, I was terrified to dial for emergency. I thought, (Are these emergency responders secret, undercover agents of high authority from politics)?

   "911 Emergency; do you need fire, medical, or police?" the operator asked.

    I answered, "I need medical."

    Operator, "Okay, sit tight. They'll be there for you momentarily."

    As I was wheeled in to the emergency vehicle on the stretcher, the Sun stung my skin. A dashing Emergency Medical Technician, "Okay—just a little prick here, we just need to check your blood."

   The ride to the hospital was always freakishly fearful. I kept thinking, (Why does it seem like there are undercover, government officials in those cars behind us)? As I looked out the rear window.

   When they pushed me into the medical hospital, they had asked of my belongings and clothes. An old Black woman in scrubs, seemingly careless yet tired, handed me a gown and some disposable socks, "Here. Put these on—Over there. The restroom."

   I walked out the restroom, a middle-aged man who I could tell was a nurse took me to my hospital bed.

   Lying on my left side under a thin blanket with a small pillow, I shut my eyes. I couldn't go to sleep, I was so distressed! I sat up and looked at all the workers of the hospital passing by, some sitting at their stations—typing away at the computers. I heard a young lady screaming in hysteria, strapped to a stretcher as they wheeled her in right next to me. It was so cold.

   I caught up with one of the female employees, "Can I get something to eat?"

   She glanced, "Sure."

   The food was terrible—but at least I had some, I guess. Raw, cut pieces of strings beans; a ball of meat that I kept thinking was resurrected poop from a pegasus; a small cup of apple juice.

   Hours had passed, and they finally put me in a wheel chair, blanket around me—I knew this part—they were going to wheel me into the unit for people with behavioral problems.

   I could hear the echoes of the nurse's footsteps throughout the, almost empty, long halls—I felt like a stray K-9, brittle to the bone with barely any contact from other dogs.

   When we got to the behavioral unit, I was shown a bed that was tucked away at a corner—I was tortured and terrified down to my thinker. On the other side of the wall to an even bigger room to the area, explicit sounds and images were being forced into my head. I kept picturing nude high officials of politics, and undercover agents disguised as EMTs with my beloved family—my mom, dad, younger brother, his wife; and even my baby niece—had contraptions and tubes stuck to them, up their private parts! It seemed as though they were pushing offspring out of them at an alarming rate. I could picture my mom's thigh slapping against the tile, hospital floor in agony. Thoughts zipped passed my mind, I needed to do something about it! But, I was petrified by fear as if an enormous, fantasy animal from an epic video-game were snarling and breathing down at me in the darkest hours of the night sky.

   I think I dozed off for a little while after all this, I summoned the courage to walk around the room; and a couple days later, I was finally ushered into a psychiatric hospital.



   I'd like to be certain that you enjoyed it!

   I kept wondering why my experiences with the Mental Health Program resembled the sci-fi thriller "The Maze Runner"—maybe a level or two more intense than that. But, with much diligent personal recovery and some clinical work, I've regained my niche!

   Stay down-to-earth; inside & out.

1syellow1 1syellow1 1syellow1
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