Asylum Echoes: A Mental Ward Confession Chronicles
July 29, 2024
5:05 AM
Another night lost to the relentless march of my thoughts. The digital tomb of my Fitbit reads 10:30 PM to 1:38 AM - a paltry sum of rest stolen from the endless expanses of time. A cocktail of Melatonin and Abilify, a relic from my Anchor days, churns in my system, a feeble to quell the tempest within.
The night before, desperation has driven me to raid my medicine cabinet for an additional dose of Advil PM. But even these chemical soldiers are no match for the relentless siege of my mind. It’s a battlefield where ideas clash and emotions collide, leaving me a solitary casualty.
Sleep, once a gentle embrace, has become an elusive phantom. Its absence casts a long shadow over my days, fogging my thoughts and dulling my senses. I yearn for the tranquility of slumber, a sanctuary from the chaos that consumes me.
Ghosts from the past have risen, their spectral forms haunting the corners of my mind. I’m being pulled back to the place - a concrete purgatory where discarded pieces of humanity are thrown. It’s a place of shadows and whispers, where sanity is a fragile illusion. Let me paint you a picture of the world, a world I desperately tried to escape.
…
Anchored in Darkness
July 7, 2024
Time: unknown
Facility Name: Anchor Hospital
5454 Yorktowne Dr, Atlanta, GA 30349
So, there I was, rolling down the hall on a glorified metal sled, I'm feeling like a side of beef I need to buy to the butcher. But instead of a steakhouse, I was headed to the Looney bin. Can you believe it? Me? The life of the party, the one everyone goes to for advice, ending up in a place with blank foggy walls and people whispering about aliens? It was a real kick in the pants!
A mental carousel spins the same image…
I can still feel the cold metal of the gurney as they wheeled me into this place. A place where the walls seem to close in, and the weight of the world presses down on my shoulders. They dumped me in this tiny room, a concrete box with nothing but a couple of chairs and a harsh overhead light. I felt like an insect panned to a board, exposed and vulnerable.
The urge to pee was a physical torment, but fear helped me captive. A man, dressed in the same uniform as a ghost haunting the halls, stood guard outside the door. His eyes, empty and distant, offered no comfort. I scanned the room, searching for a way out of this desperate situation. A camera, a cold eye watching my every move, killed any hope of finding relief in the corner.
Across the hall, through the foggy glass, I saw her. A woman, lost in her own world, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her hair, a tangled mess, mirrored the chaos within these walls. At that moment, I felt a strange connection to her. We were both trapped, both prisoners of our own minds.
The fear of being judged, of being seen as weak, paralyzed me. How could I, a strong, independent person, be reduced to this? The simple act of leaving this room felt like climbing a mountain. With trembling hands, I pushed open the door, my heart pounding like a drum. The world outside was a blur of black coats and confusion. I tiptoed down the hall, my head down, pretending to be invisible.
This is just the beginning. I don’t know what lies ahead, but I know I have to find a way out of this darkness.
Aby