Sunday, August 21, 2005

Well, since Doris asked...

My dear friend, Doris of Grans on Bran, wrote an interesting comment & I think it bears repeating & a response:

doris said...

I'm sorry if my jokey comment offends because it is not meant to - but Jane, you have some great stories from your brief few days in Camp Cuckoo Nest that I reckon it is a good place to go for blog material!!! :-)

I hope you are feeling happy to be home and that things are getting better bit by bit. (((Hugs)))


Doris,
First of all Doris, I'd never be offended by anything you'd say. Never. That is very true about the stories. Everytime Tarzan would visit me he'd say, "Jane, I hope you're getting all this down." Well, I've never in my life journaled so much as I did those 6 days. Most of it though, was about my inner feelings, which I haven't yet touched on. I haven't opened my journal since I've gotten home though, not sure why. Some of it was on some humorous things that went on, but if I were to mention them in this venue, I'd be having fun at the expense of another's illness. If I can ever find a way to word so that if the person I'm writing about were in their right mind wouldn't mind me writing about them while they weren't, maybe I will. I doubt I will ever become that esteemed of a writer.

One thing it would help to realize, time isn't the same outside as it is inside an insitution. SIX days is 144 FUCKING hours which is too much time when you are in a MENTAL INSTITUTION!!! There was no music, no natural sunlight, no fresh air and the 'fresh air' breaks were scheduled for the 4 smokers so they could go out into the 20x40 ft patio (approx. and cram as many smokes as possible in what little time they were allotted.) We were able to open our windows 4 inches on each side, but there were heavy unmovable drapes that blocked any wind or feeling of fresh air. The big room window even had a screen, so you never got a clear look at the outside, never got to go for walks, no exercise time. There wasn't a whole lot of stuff to do, at least not for me, except read, journal, socialize & people-watch. My biggest fear there was growing complacent & becoming like some of the people who didn't know where they were & were so drugged up, they didn't even know they existed anymore.

When you first see these people all you see is their outer shell, how grossly they eat, that they drool, things like that. Once while eating, I put my head down because a very sweet woman's tongue kinda stuck out while she ate. I think she had a stroke, she was probably only in her 40s. When I got back to my room, I was so ashamed of myself. How many hundreds of people had put their heads down in her presence while she ate? How did I make her feel? Who the hell did I think I was? After that, I tried to see with different eyes. This is just an issue I have to get over. You wanna know why? Because it isn't all about me!

Aside from what I've written above, since having my kids, we've never had much money, since humor is free, it was always affordable. And we're the best when it comes to laughing at ourselves. When Caveboy was around 5, he used to fly beetles around by a string for entertainment. One day, Cavegirl said, "Mom, are we white trash?" and before I could respond, she said, "Oh wait, we're not white!" (Cuz we're part Mexican) so....
I still have a few more Cuckoo Nest stories to share, including: The Dick Club & Snagglepuss.

ps....if anybody has a question they want to ask about the nut house, feel free to do so.

posted by jane at 6:15 PM