Thursday, October 1, 2009

FM #3

They said I was escorted by a rather large policeman. That I could have outrun him if I had tried. They also said I asked if I could sign myself out. Sure, I was told. With the consent of three Drs. And that would take at least three days and they don't work weekends. I would be stuck till at least Monday.

Slideshow: I am in a room with strangers being asked to take off my gown. They are looking between the cheeks of my ass. I tell them there is nothing there but charcoal. Nice uh? I think they weighed me too.

I have very vague recollections of someone talking about clothing and strings. Nothing with strings allowed. I think I remember telling the husband to bring me sweatshirts and workout pants. To go to Target and buy them. I will have to double check this detail.

They take me to a room. I have my own blanket (it smells like him) and my own pillow. I don't know where they came from. But they are part of home. Someplace I don't think I will be for awhile. I think I get into bed and sleep. I don't know. I don't remember. It is all too fuzzy. That first night. That first night in the cuckoo's nest.

I know at some point I do get real clothes. Real underwear. Not disposable mesh panties with a maxi pad in it. How and when is a blank.

Did I have visitors that night? I think I did. Who? I don't know. Blank.....

I think I cried myself to sleep. But I did that most nights. So those run into one another as well. I think I will just have to call the first night a wash. To many drugs and too much trauma.

Stay tuned....

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