RAMBLED THOUGHTS OF A PSYCHIATRIC PATIENT - 1977

They stare at me and I get scared.
I’m not mad.
I don’t shout, attack people or scream and throw things.
Are my eyes empty like hers?
Why did they put me here?
I want my kids.
No, please, no more tablets, they make me drowsy.
I can’t think, I get a big grey cloud in my head where my brain should be.
Stop her nurse, stop her.
She’s by my bed, in my locker, she’s got my things.
Nurse, she got my things.
I tried and take them away but she pushed me and I fell.
She’s got my things.
Please get me my things.
I don’t want the light out, please, low, I’ll leave it low, I won’t turn it up.
I’m afraid, I want my granddad, no I don’t want him to see me here.
I shouldn’t be here.
I want my kids.
Why are they doing this to me.
Why won’t they listen, they ask me to talk, but they don’t hear me.
They say your mind runs away with you, that the tablets will dull your mind, give it a rest.
But they won’t listen.
I don’t want tablets, I want someone to hear me, to believe me.
Why won’t anyone listen.
Blue plastic chairs full of cigarette burns, that lady burns herself, all up her arm.
I know that helps her, because cutting helps too.
They don’t understand that it doesn’t hurt, it stops it hurting.
Dinner bell, queue, must eat.
They watch you, sit you eight to a table, four each side and they watch you.
The nurses and the other patients, they watch you.
They have knives now, they start fights.
Sometimes someone gets pulled to the floor and the injection goes in and they stop thrashing about.
Why am I here?
I’m not mad.
They won’t listen.
Valium injections, please no more. I’m not mad, you are making me worse.
My in laws visited today, said I should pull myself together.
Said I have children at home and I should think of them not myself.
Can’t even argue, can’t concentrate on their faces, too sleepy.
I hate them.
I sit there and they leave, disgusted looks badly hidden, easy for me to see.
They walk through the door and it locks.
Can’t get out.
Have to ask if I want to go for a walk.
Autumn, trees, gold red leaves, when I was little ran through them on happy days.
Can’t go out anyway too scared.
World too big, scary, sky so big not safe.
Not safe in here but smaller, so better.
Dark walls move towards me, my name is being called, time for medication.
The trolley, line up, take your cup of water dear.
Now swallow, come on now, be a good girl, all of them, open let’s see, and under your tongue.
Come on now you can do better than that.
You want to get well don’t you.
You want to see your children again.
AGAIN, what do they mean again.
I’m a good mum.
I don’t want these pills, don’t want to be here.
You put me here.
You won’t listen.
Just somebody listen, for god’s sake somebody listen.
Cooking class, cooking class, you are joking!
Can’t think that then, too drugged up, must write this again on reflection and take the piss out of it, the bastards.
Cooking class, come on sweetie upstairs, if you want to go home you we need to know you can look after yourself.
Beans on toast, beans on toast!
Oh god, pease I am so sorry.
I didn’t mean it really I didn’t.
I don’t even know what I did but I didn’t mean it.
I want to go home.
I want my children.
Co-operate, just co-operate.
Try and look OK.
If you look like you are co-operating they don’t check your mouth after pills.
Have to stop the pills, never get better if I don’t.
They say they are going to give me ECT next week.
I will refuse, I won't have it, never.
She has ECt look at her over there, she never wakes up.
She walks around, opens her eyes, eats, but she never wakes up.
Got to wake up, got to get out of here.
Got to find someone who believes me, got to, or I’ll die.


to be continued ...