Institutionalized

Three weeks passed by uneventfully - I had quickly learned how boring this place really is. There’s hardly anything to do, no one familiar to talk to and certainly nothing to drink, snort, smoke or pop. I can’t remember ever being so sober and my new found clarity only emphasized my situation. I spent most of my time drawing and as a result my side of the room I share with Lucius was covered in pink and black drawings. I completely covered my white dresser with graffiti-style pictures and random words that had popped into my head while I was drawing. Needless to say Jackie and the other nurses weren’t very impressed and claimed I had ‘vandalized’ hospital property. I thought it looked better, but eventually agreed to paint it white again if/when I ever get the hell out of here.

As for Lucius he’s still totally weird, but I’ve somehow gotten used to him. Some days he seems to like me well enough and we hang out or whatever; other days he acts like I don’t exist, momentarily forgets who I am, and/or acts like I’m going to hurt him if we’re too close. His random mood swings are starting to seem less random however, considering he only ‘forgets’ who I am on Fridays and Saturdays. I haven’t noticed a pattern with his other ‘symptoms’ yet, and although I think his behaviour is a side effect of the medication they are giving him, I cant be sure. I tried hanging around a few times while the nurses handed out the medications (which happened every day at 9 a.m. and also 5 p.m. for some patients) but the nurses and other patients seemed pissed off and I received countless dirty looks. After the second time Jackie told me to stay in my room while medications were being distributed, and so I still don’t know exactly what they are giving Lucius.

Either way, I was positive that he didn’t have DID and felt like it was such an obvious misdiagnosis. Couldn’t they see that it was something else? His behaviour didn’t fit the disorder. Lucius didn’t seem to be ‘losing time’, or slipping into different personalities; he was going through intense mood swings that I believed were a result of a chemical imbalance in his brain triggered by the assortment of meds he was on. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it...a lot...and I know it would be easier to just say he’s mentally ill and get on with my life. But there are times when Lucius isn’t acting totally bizarre and there’s something just...different about him. Maybe not normal but I still have the right to think that the medication is fucking with his brain.

I tell Don all about my thoughts on Lucius. He thinks I’m paranoid to think that the ‘hospital’ would over-medicate or misdiagnose Lucius. He thinks I’m a conspirator, an anarchist as well as a non-conformist. He say’s that it’s hard for me to get accustomed to being here because my natural instinct is to avoid and disobey authority. He said that it was also why I believed that Lucius didn’t have DID. I didn’t really think any of that shit was true and told him that I didn’t want a label, but he was adamant about it.

Lately though all Don wanted to talk about was Kieran, and I’m getting pretty sick of talking about him; especially since I’ve run out of things to tell him and have been repeating the same stories for him twice a week. He keeps asking about the same instances over and over again...it’s almost like he’s too afraid to delve any deeper into mine and Kieran’s incestuous relationship...[okay, that’s starting to sound really bad so I’m going to try and stop using that term]. Lucky for me though, I only have to see Don once a week from now on; unfortunately, I now have group therapy once a week.

Today is my first day of group therapy.

I sat on an almost too-small wooden chair in a medium-sized room beside Jackie’s office that I’d never noticed before. We were gathered in a circle, everyone sitting quietly – I was trying to ignore my instincts to flee. I was nervous; I’d never done group therapy before. I’d done a lot of one-on-one therapy and I knew what to expect from that...but I’d never had to discuss my feelings and issues with people who were considered to be my peers. Of course, I would never willingly show my nervousness so I sat as stoically as possible.

The worst part was that Jackie was running late and the other eight people in the room were all silently watching me in one way or another. Even Lexus, Kat, Danny, Lucius and Seth were giving me curious looks even though I’d been talking to all of them the last couple of weeks and we’d sort of gotten to know each other. I didn’t know the other three people in the room, although I’d obviously seen them around. One was a small non-descript Asian girl. The other two were both guys around my age, but they were total opposites; one was tall and lanky, the other short and stocky.

I pretended to ignore everyone and continued to sketch in the book I’d brought along. I was sketching Lucius, mostly because he was sitting across from me and I’d already sketched him enough so I didn’t have to look up repeatedly and become obvious about what I was doing. I sighed loudly, earning me a couple more looks. Where the hell is Jackie? Finally, about five minutes after that thought, Jackie came strolling in with a messy stack of papers in one arm and a gigantic coffee in the other hand.

“Hi everyone, so sorry I’m late,” she said cheerfully, breaking the silence. I glared at her when her gaze swept past me. If she noticed, she didn’t seem to care. Most of the people in the room replied to Jackie’s greeting; except for me and curiously enough, Lucius.

“To start off, I’d like to congratulate you all on a successful week,” she paused and everyone clapped, I looked around confused. “I’m proud to say we had no disturbances or casualties this week,” Jackie added. A few people laughed. I just rolled my eyes at her corny joke and flipped to a clean page in my notebook and started sketching her.

“I also want to start by welcoming Salem into our group,” Jackie announces, making me look up feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Oh, than—“

“Welcome Salem,” the group chorused; cutting me off. I sat surprised for a moment. Okay, confused again; is this group therapy, or a cult? That seemed pretty cult-y.

“Uh, thanks. Hi...” I trailed off. I glanced back down and started to idly continue on my sketch. That was fucking weird.

“Now, before we get into it I just want to quickly explain to you, Salem, how group therapy works here,” Jackie announced cheerfully although I could sense the hint of annoyance in her voice when I failed to look up at her. “This is a heterogeneous group,” she continued, “which means that—“

“The group is comprised of individuals who exhibit different types of emotional issues,” I said, cutting Jackie off, in a monotonous voice. I didn’t bother to look up.

“That’s good,” she replied after a moment of silence, “How did you know that?”

“I read,” I replied ignorantly, again not bothering to look up at her. The other patients were being surprisingly quiet, aside from the noise of occasional fidgeting.

“Okay, I’ll move on then. This is obviously a long-term group which you’ll be a part of until you are released. So I highly recommend that you get to know these people well,” she paused, waiting for me to interject.

“Oh, yeah,” I mumbled sarcastically, looking up at the other people in the room, “BFF’s forever!” I said randomly while tapping my fist over my heart. “Viva Sanatorium,” I continued while pumping my fist in the air...

“Salem stop!” Jackie practically growled, causing my antics and various peoples giggling to abruptly come to a halt. “You can’t...! I...you don’t come in here and...and...” Jackie was either at a loss for words or too enraged to speak.

“You’re right Jackie; I can’t come into the group and disrupt the progress that you have made. I know that I shouldn’t have been sarcastic or rude and disrespectful to you and the group. I think I’m just nervous; I’ve never done this before and I apologize,” I cut in, spewing a bullshit excuse which left no more room for her nagging. I guess I did feel sort of bad for acting stupid, but at the same time I don’t even know why I said what I’d said.

Jackie looked surprised and didn’t say anything at first; but the other patients were now whispering, talking, laughing….and the room was suddenly full of sound. “Look what you did,” Jackie said gesturing around. I shrugged and pretended to look sheepish but I was already going back to my sketch and altering it to show an angry Jackie.

“Okay everyone! Please quiet down,” everyone gradually came to a hush. “Salem, I have to give this speech so please do not interrupt or talk until I’m done. Now,” she began, not giving me a chance to reply, “There are no rules to group therapy, only that group members participate to the best of their abilities. Also, we are not allowed to discuss what happens in group therapy with anyone outside of the group. There are no set plans for each therapy session; we simply want members to honestly discuss the issues that brought them to therapy and to allow other group members to offer their own suggestions, insights and empathy regarding their problems,” she let out a breath after speed talking her way through her little speech. “Understand, Salem?”

“Yes ma’am,” I replied dejectedly. Jackie ignored my tone.

“So today I thought we could all go around the group and explain a little about ourselves and why we’re here so that Salem can contribute to the group. But first I want Salem to tell us why he’s here and a little about himself,” Jackie said, making me glance up at her nervously. She shot back a wicked smile. Everyone else in the room was suddenly staring at me again, all showing varying degrees of interest. I couldn’t help but notice that this whole therapy session was singling me out.

“Um...what exactly do you want me to talk about?” I asked, truly unsure. There was so much that I could talk about and I didn’t know what she was expecting.

“Maybe you could talk about your scars, or why you cut yourself,” Jackie suggested and a few people nodded, “I think people are interested to know.” I nodded, but waited trying to gather my thoughts.

“Okay, although that’s not really why I’m here,” I mumbled finally, before continuing, “Well, I guess I originally started doing it because like most typical teenagers I felt like nothing ever went my way, that no one cared what happened to me and that no one could possibly understand what I was feeling. I guess that’s why I started, and I kept doing it because for a while it felt like the only thing I had any control over...and I guess I just like to hurt myself.” I didn’t really have a lot of time to think about it but it was the closest to the truth that I could get.

“Thank-you Salem. Does anyone have any questions for Salem?” Jackie asked.

“Were you trying to kill yourself?” The tall lanky guy asked, voice void of curiosity almost as if he were asking just for the sake of asking.

“No, not at all. I mean...I did try to off myself once, but the rest of it, the cutting, was...is...just a way for me to handle whatever I’m feeling,” I replied flippantly, looking back to the notebook in my lap and continued to add the last details to my sketch. At least talking about this isn’t so bad. It’s actually easier than with Don somehow.

“Aren’t you afraid of what people think of your scars?” Danny asked.

“Why, are you?” I fired back. He didn’t answer, simply looking away from me. I sighed, “No, I don’t care what people think. I did this to myself so I don’t think I have I right to be ashamed of it. Besides, it’s my body and I have to live with it for the rest of my life so if it bothers people, they can go fuck themselves.”

“What did your parents say?” Lexus asked.

“I guess my mom was pretty freaked out. My dad didn’t really say much, he never seems to have anything to say to me. After that I started going to therapy twice a week instead of once. My parents were embarrassed by me and thought I was a disgrace but we never really talked about it after that and I just continued to do it.”

“Did you cut yourself because of your brother?” Lucius suddenly asked. Kat and Danny also perked up since I always avoided their questions about Kieran.

“Oh...um well...” I started, at a loss for words.

“Actually Salem, I’m sorry, Dr. Savage doesn’t want you talking about your brother in group therapy,” Jackie cut in suddenly. I looked at her surprised.

“At all?” I asked, relieved but also kind of frustrated considering everything that was wrong with me stemmed from him. I mean obviously I wasn’t ready to tell everyone I had a sexual relationship with my brother, of all people, so why was Don so worried about me talking about Kieran?

“Yes, not at all. Maybe in time he will decide – Salem, what are you doing that is so much more important than listening to me?” Jackie scolded out of the blue.

“Oh, I’m drawing and don’t worry, I’m still listening to you,” I replied, still looking at the page in front of me. I looked at Jackie again, frustrated that something about my drawing was off.

“And what is so important that you can’t draw it later?” she asked, sounding annoyed.

“You, actually; I can’t draw people from memory,” I responded, looking back at her and holding the picture so she could see.

“Wow, that’s really good Salem!” Kat exclaimed.

“Yes it does look remarkably like me, but never-the-less, group therapy is not the time for doodling,” Jackie said, looking over my drawing.

“There’s something off though,” I said, ignoring the second half of Jackie’s comment. “Every time I sketch a person something about it always looks cartoon-ish.”

“It’s the eyes,” the Asian girl offered.

“You think?” I asked, looking over the drawing.

“Yeah, the reflection in the eyes,” she added.

“That makes sense, maybe I...”

“Excuse me! Could we please get back to therapy?” Jackie cut in.

“Sorry!” Me and the still-anonymous girl replied simultaneously.

“Alright, I think Salem has said enough for today. Maybe someone else can tell Salem why they’re here and I’m sure Salem would be glad to tell you what he thinks of your situation,” Jackie announced.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked, surprised.

“No, they’ve already discussed what they can and traded ideas amongst themselves. When a new member joins the group it’s a great opportunity for the members to have someone new to offer a different perspective on what they are feeling,” Jackie explained.

“Okay, I just don’t want to offend anyone,” I replied truthfully.

“Then don’t be offensive,” Jackie said shortly, “Lucius, you go first and we’ll go in a circle.”

Lucius nodded, looking uncomfortable. He looked at me as I closed my book, giving him and everyone else my full attention. Finally he started talking. He talked briefly about how his mom and step-dad were always drunk and how his childhood sucked because they abused him. He vaguely said he had ‘snapped’ and was sent here where the doctors told him that he had DID. Lucius obviously didn’t feel comfortable talking about it and his explanation left everything to the imagination. Everyone turned and looked at me, apparently awaiting my response.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I replied sincerely. I was at a real loss for what I was supposed to say and I could feel that they expected more. Finally I just ended it with the only thought that made sense in my mind; “I think you’ve been misdiagnosed.”

As soon as I uttered those words everyone in the room immediately reacted in some way. A few gasped while others just looked plain surprised. Jackie looked too flabbergasted to react. Everyone’s eyes were on me but mine were on Lucius and he’d barely reacted at all; which lead me to think that he agreed with me. He knew he didn’t have DID and for whatever reason had acted like, or been manipulated into thinking that he did have it.

“Why do you think so?” Lucius asked, breaking the tense silence.

“It just doesn’t fit. It’s more likely that you have post-traumatic stress or something similar. All your weird mood swings are most likely a result of being--”

“Salem...!” Jackie tried to cut me off.

“--over-medicated,” I finished. Again everyone looked surprised, but instead of looking at me, we were all looking at Jackie to gauge her reaction.

“That’s quite enough Salem. Stop being ridiculous; we’re moving on now, Seth it’s your turn,” she said, finally breaking the tension. She acted like it was no big deal but I could tell that she was irritated. I looked at Lucius again before turning my attention to his friend Seth, the one with the super-paranoid roommate.

Seth was here for the most bogus reason of all; he had amnesia. He was skateboarding in the street with his friends when he was hit by a car. He had no permanent brain damage besides a total lack of memory. He didn’t remember his family, and according to him it was too hard for them to have him around, so they sent him here. I asked if he’d remembered anything yet, and he said ‘not really’. I told him that he didn’t belong in a mental institution but otherwise didn’t know what to say.

Danny was next. Like he said before, he’s here because he cuts himself. He says he ends up doing it when he’s really upset or stressed out and then immediately afterwards he regrets it and feels ashamed for doing it. He says his scars make him self-conscious and that he feels guilt because his parents don’t understand and think that it’s their fault. I told him that he’d better start accepting what he did to himself or he’ll be self-conscious for the rest of his life.

“How can you say that when you look the way you do?” he asked me, bitterly.

“Hey, just because you’re ashamed of the way you look, doesn’t mean that I am. Don’t start thinking that we’re the same, or anything,” I replied, feeling offended.

“Then why do you always cover the scars on your wrists?” Kat challenged, defending Danny like usual.

“Because,” I replied after a moment, removing the ripped socks from my wrists and depositing them on the floor at my feet, “I’m ashamed that I tried to kill myself.” I finished, showing off my two, probably ugliest, scars. Kat covered her mouth in surprise, disgust...I don’t know. Danny just looked away. “Besides, I think it freaks people out,” I added.

“No kidding,” the stocky kid replied with a hint of sarcasm. It was the first time I’d heard him speak.

“Danny, it won’t do you any good trying to compare yourself to Salem. He said it himself, he isn’t here because he cuts himself so the fact that he has a different take on your problem is irrelevant,” Jackie cut in.

“If it’s irrelevant than why am I even giving my opinion?” I asked, irritated.

“Well, it isn’t completely irrelevant, I just don’t want Danny to get worked up because of your deluded perceptions,” was Jackie’s flaky response.

“I’m deluded because I accept the way I look?”

“Maybe,” she replied shortly, “now I think it’s time to move on. Kat?”

Kat had apparently had a picture-perfect childhood. Her parents spoiled her and her brother and sister, they lived in a nice house, and she had lots of friends. Then apparently when she went into high school she started feeling depressed and lonely all the time and eventually the feeling never went away. That’s when she’d tried to end it all with a bottle of pills and personalized suicide notes for her family.

“Sorry, I don’t know what to say,” I mumbled after a long awkward pause where everyone was watching me awaiting my response.

“Surely you must feel like you have something in common with the way Kat felt,” Jackie prodded.

“I guess,” I shrugged although I didn’t think our situations were similar at all. “It wasn’t really like that for me. My childhood was fine in the sense that we had a nice house and nice things...but I was never good enough for my parents; they were constantly comparing me to my brother, and they resented me a lot. I was never happy, but I wasn’t exactly depressed either. I tried to kill myself because of a specific occurrence and how it made me feel at the time; rather than a bunch of cumulated bad feelings leading me to do it, like Kat,” I finished.

“You must have been terribly sad, though?” Kat asked, almost as if she was trying to get me to relate to her. “I was so sad that I couldn’t take it anymore, literally.”

“No, I was mostly angry and I guess disgusted. I wasn’t sad until I woke up in the hospital and realized I wasn’t dead,” I replied coldly. I didn’t mind offering my input, but I didn’t like how my own history was being compared to these people.

“Now Salem, you know you don’t mean that,” Jackie cut in.

“I do mean it and I don’t want to talk about me anymore. I can’t talk about this without talking about Kieran so if you want...”

“Okay, we’ll move on then. Simon, it’s your turn,” Jackie interrupted, addressing the stockier guy. He wore glasses and had messy red hair and something about him made me think that he’d whop my ass on a chemistry test. He’s also apparently a total pyromaniac. He claims that he’d always had a fascination with fire and burning things and was eventually arrested for arson and then sent here. I didn’t have much to say to Simon considering he seemed perfectly normal, aside from the fact that he liked to set things on fire, and come on – who doesn’t?

After Simon was Lexus who simultaneously confirmed and denied that she had an eating disorder. I basically told her that she looked unhealthy and that skinny girls were unattractive. She looked offended but seemed somewhat accepting of my response.

Next was the tall lanky guy who’s name is James. James was a heroin addict and has been recovering/rehabbing? at Westwood. This all seemed weird to me considering that this isn’t a rehab center. James seemed shy and unwilling to talk which made him harder to respond to. I didn’t have anything to say and was beginning to get exhausted by the entire situation, so we moved on.

The Asian girl was next. Her name is Han-Jung although she mostly goes by her ‘English’ name which is Hailey. Hailey didn’t speak very good English, but she had quite an impressive story about how she ended up here. Apparently she was upset about moving to Canada and was bullied relentlessly by her new classmates. So, she’d made a home-made bomb, duct tapped it to herself, went to school and threatened to blow up everyone in her biology class. The police ended up shooting her in the shoulder when she’d reached for the remote trigger. She was then arrested and after a psych evaluation was sent here. Wow. I was so impressed that a five foot, ninety pound, 16 year old girl had concocted a bomb and was actually shot by the police! How cool!

Just when things were starting to get good, Jackie started to wrap it up.

“Okay everyone; we’re coming to the end of our session so I’d like to briefly discuss what we’ll be talking about next week. I want you all to think about your families this week because next week we’ll be talking about some of the regrets you have involving your loved ones. Thanks for a good session everyone,” Jackie concluded. It was short and to the point, and everyone seemed to accept that as they said goodbye to Jackie and started heading for the door. I stood to follow but Jackie stopped me. “Salem, stay for a moment please,” she said, not looking up from her paperwork.

“Yes?” I asked, feeling impatient.

“I think you did well today, considering it was your first time in group therapy. I also wanted to apologize about announcing your limitations in front of the group,” Jackie replied finally looking up at me.

“You mean...about how Don doesn’t want me talking about Kieran?”

“Right.”

“Yeah that was unprofessional,” I stated. “It doesn’t make sense to me anyways. There are things I obviously wouldn’t talk about, doesn’t Don realize that?”

“I guess he just wants to avoid the topic altogether,” she replied with a shrug.

“You know, I really don’t understand this place. Seth isn’t mentally ill and neither is James. There are other sorts of treatment centers, why here? And what about me, since when is incest a mental illness?” I asked, although I said the last part quietly. Jackie looked surprised by my sudden change of topic.

“Salem, I can’t talk about this with you; and you and I both know that you have deeper problems,” she replied with zero confidence.

“Oh, we know, do we?” I asked sarcastically.

“You’re too much. Please just go, Salem,” she said exasperated, gathering her things. I decided to take her advice and left the room.

As soon as I was in the common room I realized Kat and Danny had been waiting for me. I ignored them and walked past, cutting across the room to the hallway. They followed me but at the end of the hallway once I’d reached my room I slammed the door on them. I stood with my back to the door for a moment deciding on whether or not they’d persist. After a few moments of silence I moved away from the door and threw myself face-first into my hard mattresses. There was a long stretch of silence and then—

“So, what is it with you and your brother, anyways?” I heard Lucius ask from the other side of the room. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to resist the urge to throw something at him.

“You don’t want to know. Just leave it at that,” I replied in a no-nonsense tone that would hopefully shut him up. Fortunately it did, and the room fell into silence once again.


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