Jesus in the hospital
I
haven’t been to a hospital like this before. It was an open one. No leaving,
but then again you could have razors and shoelaces. My family told me that I
needed to go for my mental health. “Robert,” my Mother said, “ you’re a young
man of nineteen, at the age where schizophrenia tends to strike. You complain
about seeing things, and hearing voices, what else do you think we are going to
do?”
I
told them that maybe putting me in a house full of crazy people wouldn’t help
my grasp on reality.
“My
Dear, we are only sending you to one of the best hospitals in California. I’m
sure everyone there is very professional. They will handle the situation very
well.”
The
Southern California Wellness Center looked like a retirement home. The
buildings were all one floor, they all looked the same except for a sign in
front that told you what it was.
There were pathways that connected the buildings, with small desert shrubs
equidistant apart, acting as a garden between the pathways. I didn’t like the
look of it at all. To top it all off, it was hot.
My
Mother and I pulled into the parking lot, got out of the car and walked up to
the administration building in silence. I didn’t like anything about this
place, but I knew my Mother wouldn’t say anything if I didn’t. She was in her
business mode, something she had perfected from her PR job at Shell. It was
easy to tell when she was ready for business because she would wear her suit
and pants, and she would straighten her brown curly hair.
We
approached the front desk. The middle aged woman sitting at it did not see us
approach, she was busy typing. “Excuse me ma’am my Son, Robert Denerys has
arrived and needs to check in.”
The
woman at the desk did not look up, but just stretched out her hand with a piece
of paper in it.. “Please fill out
this form while I get a nurse, thank you and sit down.”
My
Mother took the paper and we went and sat on a couch on the other side of the
room. “Well, she was rude.” She muttered while writing her social security
number and life information on the paper.
I
sat there for about ten seconds until I noticed the clown walk into the room.
He was not very frightening, as most clowns tend to be. He stood in the middle
of the office looking back and forth between my Mother, and then at the lady
behind the desk. Then he screamed “It’s a joke.” and my Mother and the lady behind the desk looked up at him.
I
blinked and the whole thing was gone. My Mother and the lady were not looking
up and there was no clown. I had been having the hallucinations for half a year
now, and I was used to them, but still slightly offput by them, especially
because they were becoming more frequent.
A male nurse did walk in. and came
over to us with an outstretched hand. “You guys must be the Denerys. My name is
Phil, I’m here to get you guys settled in.”
Phil
was an ok guy. He showed us all of the buildings that we should know about.,
and told me the rules of the place. I would ask stupid questions and he would
answer them even though they were stupid. I felt a little better about moving
in here. He would wave to the others he saw walking on the paths, and they
would wave back.
The
last building we got to was the residence building. “Let me go over the rules
concerning the other patients. These are the big ones, so it’s important to
listen here, feel free to ask questions. First off, don’t go into other
patient’s rooms. It’s like the jaywalking of rules, as in everyone does it, and
no one gets punished, but still don’t do it. Secondly, no romances with the
other patients. Just don’t do it. It’s messy. Lastly, report someone to us if
they are an obvious threat to themselves or others. We really want all of you
to look out for each other as much as we do. Let’s be honest, in most cases patents
are more honest with each other than with the nurses, and we cant be
everywhere. Any questions?”
I
looked at my Mom. She looked at me. We both shrugged, and said “No”.
“Great,”
said Phil, “C’mon, let me show you your room. I can help you move your stuff
in.”
My
room was the size of a movie college dorm room. It was big enough to enjoy, yet
small enough to force me to maintain some level of organization otherwise I
wouldn’t be able to walk on the floor.
Phil
helped me and my Mother move my stuff from our care to the room. However, he
said he had to go shortly after that. Before he left he told me the kitchen was
serving dinner downstairs in twenty minutes.
I
turned back to my room when he left and I saw my Mother sitting on the bed. She
was playing with her wedding ring and staring into space, lost in thought. I went over and sat down with her.
“Robert,
I know I tried to make you feel like this a normal thing. However, I was lying
completely to you.” She still wasn’t looking at me.
“Mom,
I know it’s not normal to be here. What is normal about being in a mental
hospital because you’re hearing voices?”
“I
was looking up some facts about schizophrenia the other day, in order to get a
grasp on it. That was one of the worst things I cold have done. Especially
because medical reports only focus on the bad things it seems.” I tried to
interrupt her, but she kept talking. “I’m sure I have screwed up being a parent
sometimes, but I just want you to know, before I go home, that I can do
whatever you need me to do for this to go away. I love you Rob.”
We
hugged and I thought I heard her sniffle a little. She got up to leave and I
told her that I love her too. She left the room in a hurry. I was alone now in
a mental hospital.
I
went downstairs to get some dinner after I had unpacked everything in my room.
The dining room was set up like a buffet, one of the walls was covered in food
carts where you would grab a meal and some utensils. The rest of the room was
simply white tile floors and enough large circular tables to fit the
fifty-something patients that lived in the hospital. I grabbed some dinner
(chicken parmesan and a brownie) and went for a seat.
Most
of the tables were filled, however there were a few that were still open. At
one I saw a man with a well trimmed beard talking to four people listening
intently. He had very welcoming eyes, so I went to sit down with him and his
friends.
He
saw me approaching, and stood up, reaching his arms out to me he said, “Ahhhh a
new face, greetings my friend, sit and be welcome at our table.” I noticed,
when he stood up, that the man was quite tall and thin, he was wearing a medium
sized shirt, that hung on him like a dress.
I
sat at the table and began to cut my food. , “hey guys, I’m Robert Denerys. I
just got here today, I want to meet people.”
The
man who stood talked first, “An excellent goal. Let us introduce ourselves. I
am Stanley Michaels. I am the shepard who leads this flock.”
“Wow,
I’ll be honest I never heard anyone just say that they lead a group of friends.
I don’t mean to be rude, I’m sorry.”
The
others around me laughed. Stanley spoke, “I suppose that would be odd, however,
I am more than a friend, I am their leader, their messiah.”
I
was not that surprised to hear that. I was in a mental hospital, I was almost
expecting more. “Why do you think that?” I asked him.
“Don’t
speak to our lord that way.” One of the others told me.
“Jeremy,
please, he is not of your faith.” Jeremy turned his head down, and was quiet.
“I am sorry, I believe it was the way you asked me that made Jeremy upset. You
see when you used the word ‘think’ you implied that it was not so, and that I
was just fooling myself into thinking I am the messiah. I am the messiah. I
know so in the same way you know what you are. You are a man. I am the
messiah.”
I
took a bite of chicken, chewed it, and swallowed it. “Yeah but you are in a
mental hospital. I mean, it is the best idea to trust yourself right now? I see
and hear things that aren’t there but I don’t think they are real.”
Stanley
laughed, “My friend, you are simply told that those things are not real. I
cannot tell you they are, but I can tell you it is for you to decide. Many
Christians are considered crazy by atheists for believing in something that has
no proof of its existence. Atheists are considered crazy by Christians for not
believing there is something they cannot see. Reality is simply decided by
democracy.”
It
just hit me that none of them had food, they were all just sitting at the
table. “Then how can you know you are the messiah? You still cannot trust
yourself.”
“The
lord knows himself, cretin.” Jeremy said to me again.
Stanley
sighed. “Jeremy, take yourself and my people to another table. Consider your
actions when you are there.” The four of them got up and walked to a
neighboring table. “I’m sorry once again for their interruptions. They are
still learning. Jeremy is an angry man. He has had much loss in his life.”
I
finished my chicken. “I’m sorry to hear that. I mean no disrespect. I simply do
not understand you and your friends. How did you get here?”
“I
was sent back to fix the path of humanity. I was born to Kelsey Michaels thirty
two years ago. I have preached the way as soon as I could talk.”
I
had to interject. “I mean here, as in the hospital? How long have you been
here?”
“My
apologies. I came here two years ago. I have been in hospitals since I had
turned eighteen. My family is forced to move me from one to another every
couple of years, because the hospital kicks me out.”
“Why
can’t you leave? You are thirty-two. You can say no to your parents. Go preach
somewhere else or something.”
“The
state of Nevada deemed me mentally unfit to be independent when I began to
preach against the established government. They fund much of my mother’s
expenses to keep me in the hospital. She petitions them every year to revoke
the state’s decision. She believes that I am the messiah. That is why she was
chosen.”
He
stood up to leave. “I am afraid I must meditate. I am human as much as I am
divine. My earthly flaws must be controlled. I apologize for the suddenness of
my departure, however I must keep strict schedule. My flaws are primarily sloth
induced.” He walked several steps and stopped. Turned around and said “I would
love to continue this conversation. You are always welcome at my table.”
I
sat there looking at him go then started on my brownie. I looked up at my table
to see a leathery old man wearing overalls, chewing a piece of straw wearing a
straw hat, and carrying a watermelon. He leaned closer to me and said “It’s all
a gerd dern joke.”
“You
are not real. I said to him.” I didn’t look away from him. I didn’t even want
to blink.
“Don’t
be a fool. I’m as real as you.”
“You
go away as soon as I stop looking at you. Where do you go then? I never see you
again.”
“Don’t
be a fool, I go over thar.” He pointed behind me. I looked and saw the food
carts. I looked back and he was gone.
“God
damn it.” He told me not to be a fool.
“I
had two yesterday.” I told my therapist, Dr. Hamar. She was a mid thirties
Lebanese woman, very tall, very dark smooth skin. She had some of the biggest
frizziest hair I had ever seen. She wore very beautiful clothing. I would
fantasize about her. My sexual attraction to her actually kept me honest. “I think it was because it was a
stressful day. It was the first time I had two in a day.” I trailed off in
thought.
“Mhmm?”
She hummed, expecting more out of me.
“Well,
I got the second one shortly after I met this man, Stanley, in the dining room. He was telling me about how he was the
messiah, and reality is defined by democracy. He told me that he couldn’t tell
me anything was real or not. He told me it was for me to find out. Right after
he left I saw an old farmer tell me that everything was a joke, or something
like that. I asked him if he was real, he told me not to be a fool. I feel like
it is important. I mean, these guys I’m seeing are conjured from my own brain,
isn’t that significant? Can I call them real if I’m making them?”
“Robert,
you have been in this room thirty minutes. I have asked you your name. You have
asked me mine. We have talked basics. I asked you how your hallucinations were
going. Then you want me to tell you what reality is? Honestly I don’t care what
reality is for you. No one has the same one. Stanley was right in a way.
However, the question is: are you happy? Do you want to have these things
running around, talking to you, that only you can see? If not, I will help you
make them go away. If you do want them, I cannot help you at all. You need to
find someone else.”
“I
don’t want them. I don’t want them in my life. Whether they are real or not I
do not want them. I just want to be happy, I don’t care about things that only
I can see and hear. I want to have interactions with people, not imaginary
things.”
“Then
let’s get to work.” She said.
A week or two went by, traditional
calender time becomes unimportant very quickly when you have no difference
between a Monday and a Sunday. I had several passing conversations with Stanley
but he was generally busy meditating and holding informal underground sermons I
had no interest in attending. I had made different friends. They were like me
in that they were affable people, who only got strange when having a mental
episode. Yet the episode was very quick and far between.
One
of my friends told me that he was going to go to one of Stanley’s sermons. I
asked him why he would do that. He said curiosity mixed with boredom. There
wasn’t much to do.
We
both ended up going. We had to ask around to find out where it would be held.
It was against the rules for Stanley to preach, because the staff considered
propagating his mental disorder. It was the main reason he would get kicked out
of hospitals.
We
arrived at the spot. It was an outside area behind a building as not to be
seen. The group consisted of me, my friend. Three of the people who were
sitting with Stanley the first day I came, and someone I had not seen before.
Stanley was in the middle of us.
“Welcome,
all of you.” He said. “Peace be with you. I want to let you know that this will
be short, I am afraid nurse’s rounds will be coming by sooner than expected. I
see many new faces for this meeting. I will summarize for you. There is no such
thing as mental illness, rather your own truth. Therapy itself is a drug, a
bandage for your mind, however it is not happiness itself. Devotion is
happiness. You will find constant rewarding devotion in God, however it is all
around you as well. When I met Robert, he doubted that I had a grasp on
reality, however I posit that he is learning that he was wrong when we had that
conversation. Reality is changeable. These hospitals are simply a way for the
majority to control what reality is. I may never leave these places, however
even if I do, the work is done. My word has been tarnished through my proposed
insanity. The people today cannot get away with crucifixion, so they invented
the mental hospital. It kills me more than a cross. Be careful when you leave.”
He
looked around for nurses. His eyes rested on a man I didn’t notice was here
before. The man was wearing a poncho and holding a surfboard. He was facing me.
“It’s all a joke,” he said.
“You’re
a joke.” Stanley said, and the man vanished.
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