Apartment in the Sky
Perhaps one could think that I have taken the system under my control. Or I have manipulated everyone into my grips of insanity.
Really?
Well, I haven’t.
This cant stop the nation from judging me, characterizing me and crucifying me on their panel for the guilty.
I am merely here on the 5th floor because the system wants to remove me from sight and alienate me from all patients.
It is true! They have build an apartment above the hospital for me to live in with my workers who were specially hired to take care of me. There will be 3 shifts and a male and female on each shift to watch me.
Insanity right?
Well, I was approached by a new case worker just yesterday to pick out the color that I would like to have in my apartment.
I picked a rusty rose and some flowery wall paper border for my room.
"Agnes, would you like to see the finished version of what our plan was for you?" JANET asked.
I could barely smile and I looked up at her.
I dropped my painting that I was attempting to make for my grandmother. I was painting on a vase. I was hoping it could decorate my grandmothers house. I was trying to make things that would enrich her home and make her happy.
JANET looked at me and said, "Smile for me!"
As if that was really important to her.
I looked her over and couldn’t help but notice she had a square shaped face and high forehead. Her bangs were cut as if Frankenstein was the new fashion.
I am a 15 year old girl who recognized that I haven’t led a normal life and I have already missed my opportunity to graduate from school and have a prom date.
Nevertheless, who would want a virgin date with 600 slashes covering their arms and who has never danced before.
I walk next to JANET who keeps looking down at me with these weird smiles. I cant distinguish whether they are fake or sincere. So I agreed with myself to take them and accept as gifts from a mentally ill person.
Only because I couldn’t read JANET. So to me, she was mentally ill.
Yet, how can the system hire a mentally ill case worker who would be leading staff to take care of me, right?
Right!
Sometimes it is just fun to place people in a tiny jar and display them for what I thought they were. But once I labeled the jar, it is hard for me to remove them from it. Yet, placing them in this jar, made them safe and separated them from me. It also allowed me to remove them as human beings.
She opened this new door and I walked in.
It is a huge hallway.
Straight ahead is another door but it has a screen on it.
A table sits on the floor to the left with a mini fridge and shelves.
To the right is a big bedroom.
The bed is nailed down to the floor and the book shelf is nailed to the wall. There is one window but it is too high to look out of.
When I walked out back into the hall way there was a tv room.
I had my grandmothers tv on the floor and chair and couch set with side tables and a coffee table.
In the back is the wash room.
I look around and feel my grandmother very close. I feel her because I have her tv. I miss her so much. I want so bad to see her and love her again. I wish I could take care of her and clean her house. I would love to cook for her and feed her.
I always loved watching her eat.
Yet, my reality is here. This rusty rose color is sickening. It is almost irritating.
I wonder how long it will take before I screw this up and ruin everything.
I am still afflicted with these strange disorders and illnesses. I have not been healed and no one is able to help me.
When I go to bed, I still see my pets and I see terror. I remember things that happened to me and I cant hide or run from it.
The system has taken me since I was 10 years old and I haven’t escaped into freedom since. I am now 15 and this is my home.
I am in a hospital because no one else wants me!
No one can know or understand the pain Im enduring. It is overwhelming.
I have the system who hates me because a male worker that was incredibly popular was convicted for trying to rape me when I was 13. A nurse saved me before any damage happened and she was the one who testified on my behalf. So I have all the workers trying to torment me into my ultimate end. They mock, pull my hair and call me names. They stare at me and tell me things that a child shouldn’t hear.
On top of that, I am abandoned by my family and friends. My social workers has kept me here as well and no one seems to care I am here 24/7. So I have abandonment issues and anger about that. Anger because they live out their life and have willingly left me here to live out mine in isolation.
Then, I am tormented by my childhood that was the straw that broke the camels back for me. When my eyes close, I see and remember it like it is real. I guess they called it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
I go to bed with these feelings and it kills my heart in the most unbelievable manner.
Yet, tomorrow always comes and I am yet to live it all out again, over and over!
I look at JANET and wonder if she understands me and how I feel.
"Can I visit my grandmother?" I asked her with some little hope.
I make the time slow in my mind so I don’t get to hear the words, ‘No.’ That sometimes, just seconds of hope are just enough to make me live out the rest of my day.
She shook her head.
I sigh.
I am not allowed to watch tv or read magazines because it will give me ideas. The real world to me is an imagination. A fantasy of happiness and where all my troubles will magically disappear.
The next morning, I was told to pack my things and get ready to move into my new apartment and my new staff are waiting for me up stairs.
These new staff members stayed with me on unit 3 for a month before moving me up stairs. I had to get to know them all before the move and they had to get to know me.
I cant say I hate anyone of them but I wasn’t fond of JANET.
so as days go into th next, each day falls into this dreamy idea of what was yesterday. Nothing seems to make a difference. Each day is just another. That’s the way it was.
My existence remains the same.
Im considered a nonsense.
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