F*CK NORMAL

10 individuals sit in this room with me, all working within their own minds, problems, fears…The atmosphere out here is different than the one behind the desk. There is strength within those scrubs. I wonder what goes on in everyone’s mind? Each patient and each staff member locked in the same area/unit. What do y’all think about? Until those who can leave, go home to their own space. We, the patients, are allowed to wander the halls until our rooms are unlocked. We are not allowed to feel fresh air, but we are allowed to sit or lie in the borrowed bed. No one knows who slept in them before, and there will be people in the future who wonder about me, when I am a part of the past. I’m not saying anything needs to change, I’m not saying I wish we had more freedom, all I am stating it that it is different.

The lack of materialistic items frees my need to be responsible. The removal of everything is quite a shock to my system. A shock that my individuality fights against , and my soul fights for. When one’s soul is tired and sick there are no physical signs or symptoms. Maybe a little irritability? Maybe some fatigue? One might experience some sadness, but is that your soul coughing , trying to get attention, or the environment draining the life from you? We all try to cope with too much caffeine, increasing our sleep, and talking to the healers who throw a variety of medicine at us. We try to find peace, yet life always gets in the way.