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November 17, 2005

Theme: November 17, 2005

Today's story should take place in a mental asylum during the 1950's.

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Comments

Man, it's hard to focus today. I don't know why they keep making me take these pills. And that thing they do with the "machine" that makes me jump and piss my pants every damned time just makes me want to rip something up and throw it through a window. I really try to do what they want. I won't tear them apart even though I could anytime I want. There's no way that I want to wind up like Randy. He was a real sparkplug. Now just a lump sitting in the chair next to me. Oh well, maybe some TV will cheer me up. Nurse R turns it on and I'm so happy to hear those lovely words again....."Hey Kids, what time is it?"

Posted by: MIKE at November 17, 2005 6:33 AM · Permalink

Eddie spent twelve years in the state mental hospital for a series of murders he didn't commit, misdiagnosed as a homicidal maniac. He was kept in a padded cell, often rousted out with firehoses, straightjacketed, chained to a restraining chair, subjected to beatings and a cattle prod to make him comply, and electroshock therapy to 'cure' him. Through it all, he remained defiant, and remembered them all, from the police officer who framed him to the doctors and orderlies at the hospital. When they finally caught the real killer and set Eddie free, with no apologies, his killing spree began.

Posted by: hnumpah at November 17, 2005 9:09 AM · Permalink

Dr. Rosen leaned forward on his high-backed, leather chair. “It’s been a week since you found out about your wife and son leaving,” he said to the reclining patient. “How have you felt since then?”

“I’ve been very depressed, Doc.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself. Some people cannot endure it when their spouses have a breakdown. This type of thing happens all the time”

“I’m still depressed. I already miss Helen and Junior”

Dr. Rosen sighed and asked a question. The patient didn’t hear it, though, because that damned brown-striped duck quacked, “At least Junior won’t end up like you, Fred.”

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at November 17, 2005 12:48 PM · Permalink

The monsters attacked Ward B one night. The paranoids insisted that this confirmed what they had been telling everyone. The delusionals ignored it. The schizophrenics were of two minds about it: some thought it was demons while others said it was creatures from space. That one guy who was faking it so he could spend his time in the loony bin instead of prison went apeshit.

Together, they managed to cobble together a defense and fight off whatever the monsters were. When it was over, the one thing they all agreed on was that no one would ever believe them.

Posted by: David at November 17, 2005 2:29 PM · Permalink

I had no idea when I started nursing school that I’d end up institutionalized. At least I was administering to those poor individuals locked away in their padded rooms and not locked away myself. I don’t really think there’s much wrong with these people. They just need someone to love them.

John’s here because he hears voices.
Nick because he sees people.
Frank gets the joy of seeing and hearing his invisible friends.

I feel worried even talking to myself in here. Say the wrong thing too loudly and I may be on the other side of the locked door.

Posted by: Megan at November 17, 2005 8:18 PM · Permalink