Psych unit

“A horse at my window ..a voice singing in my head. Reality beckons but I will stay here instead. In delirium people are free to see what they want to see. And I am not alone. In the darkness I have a thousand friends. And the music plays and it never ends. And the midnight owl comes to fly with me. And I feel and hear what I cannot see.” ~ Emilie Autumn

Group therapy: Florence pulls at a mop of tangled red hair. Says she thought the spirits that possessed her had disappeared. But they showed up again last night, clawing at her soul. Someone told me she suffers chronic heartache (!?) Robbie needs more medz to think clearly in class. Reasonable request. Stacy, clearly the worst off, hunkers in the corner weeping ..saying her husband (who is deceased) gave her another round of beatings last night. Her head is bandaged and her face is black and blue. Startled, I look at Dr Russell. He says this cycle of recrimination has been going on for years. Some patients appear to have already left the world. The techs brought them in ..they look inanimate. “They’ve escaped their tyranny” the doctor likes to say. I tell him I feel out of my depth. He’s says that’s a good first step. I stare at a chart of the brain on the wall. “Don’t get fooled into thinking that’s any use” he says. Robbie tells me that talking about her problems has helped as much as any anti-depressant a doctor prescribed. “When I speak out, say what’s inside ..they appear to understand and give me direction on what to do.” Makes me think how much better girls are at expressing what’s inside. “So, the people here are pretty helpful ..?” I ask. “No, I mean the Angels ..!!” she shouts incredulously. Dr Russell says you gotta’ treat them for what they believe ails them. “Doesn’t that just reinforce their beliefs ..?” I ask, thinking back to a class in abnormal psych. “Some of these patients were incoherent when I got here” he says. Like they’re making sense now, I think. But who am I to say.