admit one - day three ·
15 March 06

I was awoken several times today. They have to check on you but they’re bad at being quiet about it. Last night’s drug was the antipsychotic which was a vicious experience. It was than my experience with Paroxatine.

While I was in bed, I felt tired throughout my body. Turning out the lights, I shut my eyes. I don’t know how much time passed before I woke up gripping mu skull in panic. My body felt possessed, rejecting the drug. I was terrified, angry, confused. Inside of my head, the only thing occupying the space where my brain resides were violent, vicious, multiple screams of agony and pain.

Somehow, perhaps through exhaustion, I went to sleep only to be confronted by some totally fucked up nightmare. They continued even when I was woken up by the bloody staff, carried on as I fell back to sleep.

As secure wards go, mine was the least secure, however, you are still required to have the keycode to get in

It was different to stay awake. The only time I got up was to take my medication and consume food. Otherwise, I went back to sleep, the medication was tougher than I expected. Fatigue was ruling the day today and I had no way to fight it. The staff were non sympathetic and simply assumed I was isolating myself. Bastards.

For lunch we had an oily, hard, nasty slice of pizza, with hard, cold pasta covered in spices and what can only be descirbed as bile. Dessert came in the form of jelly, strawberry in flavour.

Very little happened, mostly due to the drug still working during the day. I barely noticed people moving in and out, treating them as apparitions and ghosts that were from the Netherworld. I don’t know how long I can continue to write before I’m knocked out once more.

This new drug they gave me was only working for a couple of day, I was told I needed to allow it some time before it took effect properly. Throughout the day I felt bored and depressed. Everyone’s weird here, they have their own psychotic habits. Most can be described as rather eccentric.

A guy called Raj came to me and mumbled some stuff on the first day. He served some time in prison, around six years and hears voices in his head. He’s attacked his wife, and still has to go to court. He believes his wife was having an affair, vehemently so.

Raj is a short, podgy Indian fella, with a visibly receding hairline and seems to be wearing the same shorts and horizontally striped T-shirt he wears day and night.

Tomorrow is the weekend, my first weekend in a ward for mental patients. The Topaz ward as it’s called. There are other wards, including the Ruby ward, each ward offereing different levels of asylum and saftey either from oneself or from others.

Fatigue was ruling the day today and I had no way to fight it. The staff were non sympathetic and simply assumed I was isolating myself. Bastards

As secure wards go, mine was the least secure, however, you are still required to have the keycode to get in. I asked when I could leave, and I was told that they would prefer my stay to remain at least for two weeks, however, I could be out in a week depending on my progress.

I do feel more than a little zombified, and even less interested in things than before. I’m not sad, at least not much. The anger has subsided a little too. So the drugs work, but I wonder what the cost of using them is. I suppose it could be something as simple as dependency.