Chapter 2 of Sectioned Alien ‘Extraction’
I was just a normal 27 year old up until that Sunday, or at least I thought I’d always been normal until I’d overheard my parents filling in the doctors about some unusual behaviors I’d had as a child.
I’d woken up that misty morning in a zombie like daze which had turned into a frantic busy evening writing and scrawling bizarre notes and diagrams. I could sense things and feel things in a different way now. “You feel like you have special powers” the psychiatric doctor remarked as he turned his chair towards the desk to write his own scrawling notes.
It wasn’t that I thought I was magic, a super hero or become a highly intelligent Einstein. I just sat there not agreeing or disagreeing to the doctors comment.
I’d already waffled on about my beliefs in aliens from yet undiscovered planets. “There is only the planets we know of Sophie, this is a poorly thought because your not well, we must look again at your dose of medication” the doctor said scribbling notes again.
The whole concept of explaining myself further to this professional doctor was exhausting, and pointless, and besides their answers were always ‘more meds are needed’. Some of the poor soles in here rattled as they walked taking 12, 14, 16 pills a day, increasing pills with each doctors consultation. I’m not ending up like that, the meds seemed like they were making everyone with bipolar in this mental health ward worse not better.
Something was going on, I had to break this cloudy dazed state I was in, and find out more.
So I decided to dodge the pills from the meds trolley which were three times a day, usually from the most stocky, hard looking, staff members whom wouldn’t hesitate to pin you down with a haloperidol at the slightest sign of defiance. I stored the tablet under my tongue showing my open mouth, then cough, moving the tablet to the roof of my mouth to show under my tongue. (part of the medication process was to prove you had swallowed your meds).
I walked down the corridor spitting the tablet into a tissue. It was easy as only a few staff were around and they seemed more interested in finishing there tiresome shift.
One of the office doors was open and I heard whimpering noises coming from it. As I passed by I glanced in and immediately pretended I’d seen nothing and continued to walk on, I acted as if I was dazed by my meds, and I slumped onto the nearest chair making sure I could still see that room.
I watched as a nurse with some kind of dental implement pulled what looked like a tooth out of this blokes mouth. She dropped the tooth into a silver bowl with a brutal clinking noise. Almost her whole fist had been in in the poor blokes mouth as he whimpered and blood dribbled down his jaw line. What the hell ??? Had I really just seen that ! Why on earth was a mental health nurse pulling out a patients tooth at 10.30 at night. No injections, no chair, no dentist, just standing there pulling out his tooth. Did I really just see that. The guy had been completely drugged up all day and had been waffling crazy stuff, as we all had.
This place was getting crazier than us folks in here, and this time it’s not my meds or my illness talking. If only I’d stopped my meds earlier I’d be able to remember what that poor guy had been talking about today, maybe the sort of stuff we come out with while ‘poorly’ and ‘delusional’ might not be nonsense after all.
Written by and copyright Sophie Huddlestone.
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