Broken Crayon
I found the greatest high. The greatest life. And the greatest purpose.
This crazy drive was driving me so well. I was in the zone. I was losing weight and losing my mind, fast. The greatest life was just a hung over for a moment. I knew what I wanted. Take over the world. Take my mission to the next level. What was my mission?
I was cutting a treaty with the next world. My mission was talking on a space age headset. I was talking to my greatest best friend. Her name was Brooke. She was found and lost all in one moment. I was " really" married but lost in love with another.
The love was real. The loss was real. The tears were real. It was all " real." It was all really in my head and there was no way you could talk me down. It was the greatest high and the trick she ever pulled on my, Brooke. She was a blonde viking god and I was terribly in love. Her name Hela for real and my real name was Thanos, the good guy. Not that purple dude with bad chin but my own personal demon head with horns and a big Alice Cheshire cat's dream of a grin.
"You look like Satan, my love?" Brooke said with a smile.
"Yes, but Satan on a bad hair day." She laughed. And smiled throwing her hair in slow motion just for me. "Satan, on a bad hair day? Hilarious." She Brooke always restated my funny statements.
"You think I feel in love, with the Devil of a Captain Kirk? She would call me Captain Kirk during my dark days at the hospital. Because I would tell her all about the countless worlds I have been to doing what I called or more like Mytris Dysin would call, "Cutting Treaties." I "cut" countless treaties on different worlds and they were all the same. But this one. I was married. I was married during the treaty.
That fact alone should have brought me out of my Bipolar high alone. But it did not. I only doubled down the problem. And refused to take my meds.
My medicine was Sara. And she was grand.
"Don't take drugs, baby." Brooke stated to me over and over in the hospital and out.
"Why, my love they won't affect me anyways." MAA stated flatly.
I was MAA when I was not 7 other characters overlaid of me. They displayed when needed and when the Bipolar trip was getting angry and very very good. Or so I thought. That phrase would test me over and over.
In the future of 3 hospital stays.
I designed this ride. SEROQUEL designed it. Yeah, Seroquel designed it. The greatest side effect of the drug was to put my brain into the stratosphere.
"I can plate spin, all the ideas you won't believe." MAA stated to his brother while in the hospital for the third time.
"You should try this stuff it's amazing." MAA laughed with a smile while on the metal phones at the hospital.
"They all relapse." stated the doctor in court. "Relapse happens because they or he goes off his meds." Doctor Allawankca smiled and stated. I called him that, to his face.
"Allawankca, oh sure believe him over me!" MAA stated to his wife of the metal phones.
"My doctor was a dick. The nurses were all dicks and my care was substandard." MAA stated with authority into a patient metal phone.
Yeah, the phones were metal in the mental hospital? Yes, this was because of damage that other patients would inflect on them.
"We are more married on the metal phone than in real life?" MAA would stated to his real wife over the phone.
"Married or divorced." MAA statted over and over. Hoping to get a positive response.
Married or divorced it was all the same when you are bipolar. High as a kite with no drugs or low and wanting drugs. Married or divorced from the drugs not the same. Nothing was the same except the reality of the hormones in my brain. Telling me or talking to me.And I mean talking to me. In grand fashion stories of flight of fancy only a good sci fi writer could dream up.
Thanos / MAA / Mytris Dysin. I was about seven different people floating in and out of a bipolar episode, that I loved by the way. I never felt pain during the episodes. the only pain I had was the pain of the hand cuffs when I was arrested that December night. After my "wife" called 911. Yeah, my real my put me in the "clink" because I fell in love with Brooke / Hela. Or so I thought. Having thoughts I thought it was the most purest thing to have. It was not so pure, after all.
I was lost. Truly. And lost in love. Love so strong I won't be able to write about much else, soon. Brooke or Hela? It did not matter I was in love with both. I was arrested and placed in a mental hospital with a smile. I was in love that is all that mattered to me.
My real mission was really confusing. Because though I was a patient in a mental ward. I was serious about my "true" mission. I was supposed to be in a pod traveling to earth in the year of 2044. But I was really just late from lunch? Lunch? What do you mean? Yeah, that was my brain was telling me. My doctor called it schizoaffective disorder.
I began loving my true wife and then loving my real wife, who I thought was a serial killer. I was Dick Tracy, Thanos, A Space Age Cowboy, and a real life captain in a star ship pod sleeping until I can make it back to earth. I was telling the truth to my real wife. That I found the greatest girl friend. Her name Brooke. And her real name was Hela. and I was Thanos, the good Thanos not that purple guy. Thanos and Hela. The greatest duo. The greatest delusion. It was my life. I had a broken crayon in my pocket and I was waking up in a Mental Hospital. And realized i was going Bipolar. Going Bipolar? What does that mean? My crayon was broken for real.
My greatest creation, my delusions.
"MAA, MAA we need to check your vitals? Vitals? What Vitals? Where I am I? Your in the hospital MAA and we need to check your Vitals." Nurse at the hospital. They didn't say "MAA" but my real name...more on that later. (John One I read every-morning. A tease for a future installment.)
"Vitals baby, don't take them." Brooke would tell me, never give in to them, ever." Brooke always had the way to my heart. Imaginary or not, it was all real and scary had the same time. Slowly losing your mind or fast it doesn't matter. It is all the same, dangerous.
This only made my hospital stay even longer. The loneliness would increase ever time I did not comply. Comply or not compliance would seem nothing to change my life. Because in the mental health arena nothing was fast. Except getting your bedding on Tuesdays.
"Strip your bed, it's Tuesday. Before you get your breakfast today. Thanks." The announcement over the intercom came.
Mornings in the hospital was probably my most favorite time there, since the terrible night of not sleeping was over for the next 24 hours. But also the patients still were not in full bloom. All with their idiosyncrasies and terrible symptoms. It slowly became depressing ever afternoon. The full realization where and what had, happened to me. The sad truth, I had lost my mind. In a bipolar way, again.
My crayon was really broken. My cranium that I depended on for so long, tricked me. Tricked me out of my own life story. I was dancing. Dancing in the dark. With an imaginary Brooke. I was so in love and my brain tricked me in believing a story so fantastical I would never believed it with my own "experience" of the disorder. The Bipolar Disorder.
My crayon was broken. In my pocket and I just did not know how to put them back together again. I was allowed a crayon the write with and nothing else. I choose a black crayon. It was broken by my daughter while on a visit to the mental hospital to see her father. Who had become ill and sick with what the Docs called, Bipolar Disorder.
"At age fifty two no one gets, Bipolar. When need to order an MRI." The physician smiled and stated over an over to me.
MRI would become my most hated three letters even more than the word Bipolar.
Bipolar disorder can have a lot of order. It is not all lost in space when you are high as a kite on serotonin. It can be also very very intoxicating, no way my real wife is going to talk me out of it.
"....just take the meds." My real wife stated with an angry smile.
She my real wife not Brooke my wife to be in the space world. My real wife smiled big and loud and the more my delusions became real my real wife would just seem to play into them. Or so i thought. Or so I thought, was now the beginning to another episode of Death Trap 3000.
"What's the name of the TV show my love?" Said Brooke with a smile and her hair was pulled up this time since we were talking business, now.
"Death Trap 3000 is the name they give it." Mytris Stated. Sometimes I was the space cowboy Mytris and MAA at the same and insane time.
"Why is that, my love...Death Trap? Are we in danger?" Brooke smiled big and asked with her head slightly tilted to let her gorgeous blonde hair gently fall to one side.
"No they call it, the TV show inter-dimensional TV show. Death Trap 3000 because they want to call it MAA and Brooke but that did not test well. Another great delusion I came up with is that the tv show was inter-dimensional baby. I would stretch my arms out and pull space down and left to right to open up a serious of blue boxes each getting smaller has they went off into the distance.
"See the real universe." MAA would state to the imaginary Brooke while in the second hospital stay.
"The real universe seems so small when your so it to me." Brooke stated sitting on my roommates bed that was unoccupied at the time.
I from time to time would have to pull the universe open for Brooke when her disbelief became too much for me to handle. Remember all of this is real to me as real as it can be. I am looking for any shred of proof in the real world to confirm my delusions.
Meanwhile my wife was on the phone talking to my family. MAA was unaware of this and thought my family was against me anyways. Always. If they really find out what is happening they will never accept it. It all started to become very embassering by the third hospital stay. I was
"What is warp drive, my love?" Brooke asked me while I was in "Brooke Mode".
Brooke Mode was when I just could play out all the parts fast enough. I just told the narrative to the staff and nurses in the middle of the night while the rest of the patients slept. I never slept well in the hospital or at home during my HIGHS of bipolar fancy. The episodes did last for days and I drifted in and out of them for weeks.
Mytris Dysin a space aged cowboy. Picked up from CU421 planet. The High Counsel discovered me or the spaced aged cowboy, I invented with dreaming while in a Space Pod on the way to earth because of a distress call. This flight of fancy was a convoluted and out of control as possible. I ultimately was a captain in a space pod, sleeping this fanciful dream away.
While I was not that I was really and truly a aerospace engineer. Who went off the rails, somehow and somewhere. My first or three hospital stays. I was loving every bit off. I loved 'group' and eating at three set times and cleaning up after my self. Never telling the nurses or techs at the hospital anything they did not want to hear. The second stay at the hospital, a much different Space Cowboy appeared.
The High Counsel, is what I called it. The they, yeah. The they were three guys sitting on a long desk about the cabinets. They looked after me and at the house and in the hospital. I considered them the High Counsel because they were the brain trust that ran the operation. They sent me on "gigs" and set the terms of the treaties I "cut" for them. The High Counsel was really just my high mind telling me that things were not right. Not right at all. They there neither high or low but imaginary.There was the type of thing that supposed to keep me on the ground. So to speak. But did neither.
"The High Counsel are screwing you, baby." Brooke would state frequently. Her smile and her hair up again. She was running around the 'Holodeck.' She would run around the techno craft flipping switch and "helping" me with my greatest the delusion. The Holodeck. It helm my mind in check while I was in the hospital the second time. The first time I loved it.
I love the first hospital because people of "like mind" and like symptoms. I could not believe that there were other people with the same problem. And "Group" helped me the first time like a charm. Group the second time not so much. Then Group the third time I endured. I was clear the third time and man it was difficult to maintain my "high". So I did not. The third time did the trick. Fixed me but it was a harsh 30 day stay in the "Committed" Wing of the hospital. All the hard cases ended up here. There was one more, the real State Hospital two hours away.
"Well the High Counsel is they only family I know. They take care of me." MAA stated with a quirk and a wry smile.
"They really take care of you, for real. Not this time. You are in a mental wing, baby." Brooke spoke in a definite way. I loved Brooke and still do. She will never truly leave me. If so, I am not sure what I would do mentally.
The High Counsel picked up Myrtris Dysin a space cowboy on a distant planet. The reason why the High Counsel like me, was I was a tracker. I tracked them down and killed them or put them behind bars. The them, was serial killers. Mytris specialty was, Serial Killers. The name I determined was developed from a magazine cover. A black cowboy and an article about him. Which I never read. The name I took to make sense of all my "Cowboy stuff" I loved and started to demonstrate to my real wife. My real wife was a champ through all of this. She never stopped, and always stayed with me. Even though I still haven't agreed with her dialing 911, on me.
I woke one night, too see Brooke running the Holodeck at the hospital. The entire hospital was copied from my memory and feed into a computer. This computer was the Holodeck. And the nurse and techs have become my servants and techno slaves. I did not care what they were writing down tracking me or the "meds" they were supposed to give me.
"I am fixing your holodeck so it does not hurt you again." Brooke would be running around trying to pull and push lever and gears. All off camera, or course.
"Baby, say Tenehma mode." Brooke stated through a com-link in my mind. She was either in front of me or in my head directly wired in.
"Tenahma mode..." MAA stated unsure of himself.
"No baby, say Tenahma mode, non lethal. So the nurse and techs can't hurt you or try to poison you again.
Days of the Holodeck hospital stretched into weeks. I also called it the Apple room.
The Apple room was a room or waiting area in the second stay at a mental hospital that I was "in between shows." Remember I thought this was all a "inter dimensional TV show, too." The awesome tv show I was on....did not care about my sleep so it went into full bloom ever 2:30 am. Only when the hospital staff did not care so much. I talked for hours and not alone, ever. I had a lot of characters to keep up with and none had time for me.
The Apple room was the perfect break from all of that. Just me and Brooke in a room. Talking out loud was the need for the day. A need that would never go away.
"Talking is what Captain Kirk, doesn't do, baby." Brooke state flatly once. Ever once in a while she would get made and become Hela. There she cussed and told me, Mother F... and the rest no probably. And to get my "S" together and so on. She Hela went to town on my for a short while and soon went back to training me to keep my voices in my mind. This would make me very quiet. Too quiet. Doctors and nurses that were tracking me would state. Depressed. There is no real catch 22 in the hospital. There are only the realities of being tracked. Continuously. Every 20 minutes the closed door would open, to see what I was doing. Usually nothing but reading.
Tom Clancy. My best friend.
My brother visited me, on several occasions and tried to get me to divorce my wife. This was a strange request but one i entertained. Since she is the one who dialed 911, on me. She would cry whenever this happened to be mentioned.
"Way past ten days, way past ten days!" MAA yelled at the top of his lungs when I could not take the hospital stay anymore or my real wife on the metal phone.
"Did you take your meds?" My real wife stated flatly with much feeling.
I had a round of these two statements it felt like daily. Did I take the meds and Did I want to hurt myself or anyone else. These were many statements that the nurses and techs would ask you while your are in the mental hospital.
Any false move while you were under the watch of the techs would land you back in your cell, or the room.
The room where I slept.
It was a great bed up against the wall and the first night I slept there I slept amazingly well!
The third hospital I stayed at the bed was not up against the wall and this would be the bane of my existence. I would not sleep well there and this would be the greatest of tests. How to rest well while realizing you really are in a mental hospital. At each successive hospital they clientele would get exceedingly worse and more bizarre.
The bed was more of the built in wood bunk up against the wall with a plastic bed and pillow to match. All blue. The sheets if you got them were not much more comforting. Though in the morning when they took vitals. It was like your eyes were prying against themselves. Trying to stay away from the piercing light.
Vitals suck and they always have and they always will. 120 over 81 with a pulse rate of....who-cares!
000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
I found the greatest high. The greatest life. And the greatest purpose.
This crazy drive was driving me so well. I was in the zone. I was losing weight and losing my mind, fast. The greatest life was just a hung over for a moment. I knew what I wanted. Take over the world. Take my mission to the next level. What was my mission?
I was cutting a treaty with the next world. My mission was talking on a space age headset. I was talking to my greatest best friend. Her name was Brooke. She was found and lost all in one moment. I was " really" married but lost in love with another.
The love was real. The loss was real. The tears were real. It was all " real." It was all really in my head and there was no way you could talk me down. It was the greatest high and the trick she ever pulled on my, Brooke. She was a blonde viking god and I was terribly in love. Her name Hela for real and my real name was Thanos, the good guy. Not that purple dude with bad chin but my own personal demon head with horns and a big Alice Cheshire cat's dream of a grin.
"You look like Satan, my love?" Brooke said with a smile.
"Yes, but Satan on a bad hair day." She laughed. And smiled throwing her hair in slow motion just for me. "Satan, on a bad hair day? Hilarious." She Brooke always restated my funny statements.
"You think I feel in love, with the Devil of a Captain Kirk? She would call me Captain Kirk during my dark days at the hospital. Because I would tell her all about the countless worlds I have been to doing what I called or more like Mytris Dysin would call, "Cutting Treaties." I "cut" countless treaties on different worlds and they were all the same. But this one. I was married. I was married during the treaty.
That fact alone should have brought me out of my Bipolar high alone. But it did not. I only doubled down the problem. And refused to take my meds.
My medicine was Sara. And she was grand.
"Don't take drugs, baby." Brooke stated to me over and over in the hospital and out.
"Why, my love they won't affect me anyways." MAA stated flatly.
I was MAA when I was not 7 other characters overlaid of me. They displayed when needed and when the Bipolar trip was getting angry and very very good. Or so I thought. That phrase would test me over and over.
In the future of 3 hospital stays.
I designed this ride. SEROQUEL designed it. Yeah, Seroquel designed it. The greatest side effect of the drug was to put my brain into the stratosphere.
"I can plate spin, all the ideas you won't believe." MAA stated to his brother while in the hospital for the third time.
"You should try this stuff it's amazing." MAA laughed with a smile while on the metal phones at the hospital.
"They all relapse." stated the doctor in court. "Relapse happens because they or he goes off his meds." Doctor Allawankca smiled and stated. I called him that, to his face.
"Allawankca, oh sure believe him over me!" MAA stated to his wife of the metal phones.
"My doctor was a dick. The nurses were all dicks and my care was substandard." MAA stated with authority into a patient metal phone.
Yeah, the phones were metal in the mental hospital? Yes, this was because of damage that other patients would inflect on them.
"We are more married on the metal phone than in real life?" MAA would stated to his real wife over the phone.
"Married or divorced." MAA statted over and over. Hoping to get a positive response.
Married or divorced it was all the same when you are bipolar. High as a kite with no drugs or low and wanting drugs. Married or divorced from the drugs not the same. Nothing was the same except the reality of the hormones in my brain. Telling me or talking to me.And I mean talking to me. In grand fashion stories of flight of fancy only a good sci fi writer could dream up.
Thanos / MAA / Mytris Dysin. I was about seven different people floating in and out of a bipolar episode, that I loved by the way. I never felt pain during the episodes. the only pain I had was the pain of the hand cuffs when I was arrested that December night. After my "wife" called 911. Yeah, my real my put me in the "clink" because I fell in love with Brooke / Hela. Or so I thought. Having thoughts I thought it was the most purest thing to have. It was not so pure, after all.
I was lost. Truly. And lost in love. Love so strong I won't be able to write about much else, soon. Brooke or Hela? It did not matter I was in love with both. I was arrested and placed in a mental hospital with a smile. I was in love that is all that mattered to me.
My real mission was really confusing. Because though I was a patient in a mental ward. I was serious about my "true" mission. I was supposed to be in a pod traveling to earth in the year of 2044. But I was really just late from lunch? Lunch? What do you mean? Yeah, that was my brain was telling me. My doctor called it schizoaffective disorder.
I began loving my true wife and then loving my real wife, who I thought was a serial killer. I was Dick Tracy, Thanos, A Space Age Cowboy, and a real life captain in a star ship pod sleeping until I can make it back to earth. I was telling the truth to my real wife. That I found the greatest girl friend. Her name Brooke. And her real name was Hela. and I was Thanos, the good Thanos not that purple guy. Thanos and Hela. The greatest duo. The greatest delusion. It was my life. I had a broken crayon in my pocket and I was waking up in a Mental Hospital. And realized i was going Bipolar. Going Bipolar? What does that mean? My crayon was broken for real.
My greatest creation, my delusions.
"MAA, MAA we need to check your vitals? Vitals? What Vitals? Where I am I? Your in the hospital MAA and we need to check your Vitals." Nurse at the hospital. They didn't say "MAA" but my real name...more on that later. (John One I read every-morning. A tease for a future installment.)
"Vitals baby, don't take them." Brooke would tell me, never give in to them, ever." Brooke always had the way to my heart. Imaginary or not, it was all real and scary had the same time. Slowly losing your mind or fast it doesn't matter. It is all the same, dangerous.
This only made my hospital stay even longer. The loneliness would increase ever time I did not comply. Comply or not compliance would seem nothing to change my life. Because in the mental health arena nothing was fast. Except getting your bedding on Tuesdays.
"Strip your bed, it's Tuesday. Before you get your breakfast today. Thanks." The announcement over the intercom came.
Mornings in the hospital was probably my most favorite time there, since the terrible night of not sleeping was over for the next 24 hours. But also the patients still were not in full bloom. All with their idiosyncrasies and terrible symptoms. It slowly became depressing ever afternoon. The full realization where and what had, happened to me. The sad truth, I had lost my mind. In a bipolar way, again.
My crayon was really broken. My cranium that I depended on for so long, tricked me. Tricked me out of my own life story. I was dancing. Dancing in the dark. With an imaginary Brooke. I was so in love and my brain tricked me in believing a story so fantastical I would never believed it with my own "experience" of the disorder. The Bipolar Disorder.
My crayon was broken. In my pocket and I just did not know how to put them back together again. I was allowed a crayon the write with and nothing else. I choose a black crayon. It was broken by my daughter while on a visit to the mental hospital to see her father. Who had become ill and sick with what the Docs called, Bipolar Disorder.
"At age fifty two no one gets, Bipolar. When need to order an MRI." The physician smiled and stated over an over to me.
MRI would become my most hated three letters even more than the word Bipolar.
Bipolar disorder can have a lot of order. It is not all lost in space when you are high as a kite on serotonin. It can be also very very intoxicating, no way my real wife is going to talk me out of it.
"....just take the meds." My real wife stated with an angry smile.
She my real wife not Brooke my wife to be in the space world. My real wife smiled big and loud and the more my delusions became real my real wife would just seem to play into them. Or so i thought. Or so I thought, was now the beginning to another episode of Death Trap 3000.
"What's the name of the TV show my love?" Said Brooke with a smile and her hair was pulled up this time since we were talking business, now.
"Death Trap 3000 is the name they give it." Mytris Stated. Sometimes I was the space cowboy Mytris and MAA at the same and insane time.
"Why is that, my love...Death Trap? Are we in danger?" Brooke smiled big and asked with her head slightly tilted to let her gorgeous blonde hair gently fall to one side.
"No they call it, the TV show inter-dimensional TV show. Death Trap 3000 because they want to call it MAA and Brooke but that did not test well. Another great delusion I came up with is that the tv show was inter-dimensional baby. I would stretch my arms out and pull space down and left to right to open up a serious of blue boxes each getting smaller has they went off into the distance.
"See the real universe." MAA would state to the imaginary Brooke while in the second hospital stay.
"The real universe seems so small when your so it to me." Brooke stated sitting on my roommates bed that was unoccupied at the time.
I from time to time would have to pull the universe open for Brooke when her disbelief became too much for me to handle. Remember all of this is real to me as real as it can be. I am looking for any shred of proof in the real world to confirm my delusions.
Meanwhile my wife was on the phone talking to my family. MAA was unaware of this and thought my family was against me anyways. Always. If they really find out what is happening they will never accept it. It all started to become very embassering by the third hospital stay. I was
"What is warp drive, my love?" Brooke asked me while I was in "Brooke Mode".
Brooke Mode was when I just could play out all the parts fast enough. I just told the narrative to the staff and nurses in the middle of the night while the rest of the patients slept. I never slept well in the hospital or at home during my HIGHS of bipolar fancy. The episodes did last for days and I drifted in and out of them for weeks.
Mytris Dysin a space aged cowboy. Picked up from CU421 planet. The High Counsel discovered me or the spaced aged cowboy, I invented with dreaming while in a Space Pod on the way to earth because of a distress call. This flight of fancy was a convoluted and out of control as possible. I ultimately was a captain in a space pod, sleeping this fanciful dream away.
While I was not that I was really and truly a aerospace engineer. Who went off the rails, somehow and somewhere. My first or three hospital stays. I was loving every bit off. I loved 'group' and eating at three set times and cleaning up after my self. Never telling the nurses or techs at the hospital anything they did not want to hear. The second stay at the hospital, a much different Space Cowboy appeared.
The High Counsel, is what I called it. The they, yeah. The they were three guys sitting on a long desk about the cabinets. They looked after me and at the house and in the hospital. I considered them the High Counsel because they were the brain trust that ran the operation. They sent me on "gigs" and set the terms of the treaties I "cut" for them. The High Counsel was really just my high mind telling me that things were not right. Not right at all. They there neither high or low but imaginary.There was the type of thing that supposed to keep me on the ground. So to speak. But did neither.
"The High Counsel are screwing you, baby." Brooke would state frequently. Her smile and her hair up again. She was running around the 'Holodeck.' She would run around the techno craft flipping switch and "helping" me with my greatest the delusion. The Holodeck. It helm my mind in check while I was in the hospital the second time. The first time I loved it.
I love the first hospital because people of "like mind" and like symptoms. I could not believe that there were other people with the same problem. And "Group" helped me the first time like a charm. Group the second time not so much. Then Group the third time I endured. I was clear the third time and man it was difficult to maintain my "high". So I did not. The third time did the trick. Fixed me but it was a harsh 30 day stay in the "Committed" Wing of the hospital. All the hard cases ended up here. There was one more, the real State Hospital two hours away.
"Well the High Counsel is they only family I know. They take care of me." MAA stated with a quirk and a wry smile.
"They really take care of you, for real. Not this time. You are in a mental wing, baby." Brooke spoke in a definite way. I loved Brooke and still do. She will never truly leave me. If so, I am not sure what I would do mentally.
The High Counsel picked up Myrtris Dysin a space cowboy on a distant planet. The reason why the High Counsel like me, was I was a tracker. I tracked them down and killed them or put them behind bars. The them, was serial killers. Mytris specialty was, Serial Killers. The name I determined was developed from a magazine cover. A black cowboy and an article about him. Which I never read. The name I took to make sense of all my "Cowboy stuff" I loved and started to demonstrate to my real wife. My real wife was a champ through all of this. She never stopped, and always stayed with me. Even though I still haven't agreed with her dialing 911, on me.
I woke one night, too see Brooke running the Holodeck at the hospital. The entire hospital was copied from my memory and feed into a computer. This computer was the Holodeck. And the nurse and techs have become my servants and techno slaves. I did not care what they were writing down tracking me or the "meds" they were supposed to give me.
"I am fixing your holodeck so it does not hurt you again." Brooke would be running around trying to pull and push lever and gears. All off camera, or course.
"Baby, say Tenehma mode." Brooke stated through a com-link in my mind. She was either in front of me or in my head directly wired in.
"Tenahma mode..." MAA stated unsure of himself.
"No baby, say Tenahma mode, non lethal. So the nurse and techs can't hurt you or try to poison you again.
Days of the Holodeck hospital stretched into weeks. I also called it the Apple room.
The Apple room was the perfect break from all of that. Just me and Brooke in a room. Talking out loud was the need for the day. A need that would never go away.
"Talking is what Captain Kirk, doesn't do, baby." Brooke state flatly once. Ever once in a while she would get made and become Hela. There she cussed and told me, Mother F... and the rest no probably. And to get my "S" together and so on. She Hela went to town on my for a short while and soon went back to training me to keep my voices in my mind. This would make me very quiet. Too quiet. Doctors and nurses that were tracking me would state. Depressed. There is no real catch 22 in the hospital. There are only the realities of being tracked. Continuously. Every 20 minutes the closed door would open, to see what I was doing. Usually nothing but reading.
Tom Clancy. My best friend.
My brother visited me, on several occasions and tried to get me to divorce my wife. This was a strange request but one i entertained. Since she is the one who dialed 911, on me. She would cry whenever this happened to be mentioned.
"Way past ten days, way past ten days!" MAA yelled at the top of his lungs when I could not take the hospital stay anymore or my real wife on the metal phone.
"Did you take your meds?" My real wife stated flatly with much feeling.
I had a round of these two statements it felt like daily. Did I take the meds and Did I want to hurt myself or anyone else. These were many statements that the nurses and techs would ask you while your are in the mental hospital.
Any false move while you were under the watch of the techs would land you back in your cell, or the room.
The room where I slept.
It was a great bed up against the wall and the first night I slept there I slept amazingly well!
The third hospital I stayed at the bed was not up against the wall and this would be the bane of my existence. I would not sleep well there and this would be the greatest of tests. How to rest well while realizing you really are in a mental hospital. At each successive hospital they clientele would get exceedingly worse and more bizarre.
The bed was more of the built in wood bunk up against the wall with a plastic bed and pillow to match. All blue. The sheets if you got them were not much more comforting. Though in the morning when they took vitals. It was like your eyes were prying against themselves. Trying to stay away from the piercing light.
Vitals suck and they always have and they always will. 120 over 81 with a pulse rate of....who-cares!
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