Hello booty juice (part 3)

All night they do checks on the patients, every 15 minutes to be exact. It didn’t matter where you were or what you were doing they were going to find you. There is more to that story soon, but now after NO SLEEP they wake us up at 6:30/7:00. We all start to file out and people have made friends and they are all talking to each other and I’m just there. We all go to breakfast (the only plus is the food is good.) and then we are placed in groups. I was placed in the progressive group. This group were for people who had problems but could still function in the everyday world. Then it happened the most horrid retched thing imaginable. We were put in GROUP THERAPY for 8 hours. Yes you read that correctly 8 fucking hours of group therapy. We broke for lunch and dinner we also had small breaks in between but mostly it was GROUP.  The first woman in there who claimed to be a “psychologist” explained to us how alcoholism and drug abuse is hereditary and no matter what we do we will probably suffer form of it. Of course someone who has never experienced anything like this has now become more anxious. We are listening to her go on and on telling her all of her families issues (at some point I wondered if she belonged to with us.)  They would give us small 5 minute breaks and as soon as the break word break came out of their mouth they would swipe their badge and turn the phones on. It looked like a Black Friday sale everyone jumping to get on the phone. There was a middle aged woman who called everyone in her family and we heard her entire life story. (If you’ve ever seen OITNB she is the Hispanic lady crying on the phone. There are things I don’t care if you are a stranger or not you shouldn’t say in front of other people.) After the second break and another part of her life story the “counselor” came in and left the area to turn the phone on open and stepped back out to talk to someone and I ran over and flipped the button on so I could call my husband. I’d probably been on the phone with him for about 1.5 minutes when the “counselor” came back and said, “No one is supposed to touch that button who turned the damn phones on.” I just want to remind everyone at this point that I am sleep deprived, manic, confused and so fucking pissed off I didn’t care. “I did because this bitch wouldn’t shut the fuck up.” The “counselor” stood back her face turned red, her eyes begin to narrow as she pursed her lips. “We will calm you down. That is your last warning.” Her knuckles kept turning whiter and whiter. “I don’t give a fuck.” I said laughing. You could tell that she was frazzled like she had lost control of the group. So we talked some more, she glared at me the whole time I didn’t pay attention. Next comes lunch and after the candy cart came around. For those of you who aren’t familiar the candy cart is the wonderful nurse/pharm tech that brings around the pills. You know the good stuff that makes 8 hours of group therapy bearable. I went up and the nurse snapped, “We can’t give you anything because you haven’t seen your doctor.” She whipped around pushing the cart down the hallway.

I read via bathroom light the night before when I was unable to sleep that by law I had to see my psychiatrist 24 hours after the 10-13 was issued and according to the paperwork the 10-13 was issued at 9:30 am so I am well over my 24 hours and now I am pissed. I slam my fist on the desk and start yelling, “It’s been over 24 hours where the fuck is my doctor?” The counselor rolls her eyes and motions for the door as soon as I walk out there is another person waiting for me and again they trying to calm me down but all I see is red. “Do we need to calm you down?” Her brows crease and her eyes glaring through me and I decide to get cocky. “You keep fucking threatening me with that but you ain’t bout shit.” As the words slip off my tongue here comes a nurse with a needle in her hand. She grabbed my arm and drug me down by the nurses station the needle still in her hand. It was like waving a gun when robbing a bank. I sit with group that has the “loose girl” in it. I am sitting there while they are coloring still grumbling when I see the nurses station door open. I am inclined to mischief and not learning my lesson from the previous time I walk in the nurses station and sit down to use the phone. (I really wanted to talk to my husband to calm myself down and though I feel like I have expressed this it seems they would not listen.) Then it happened…..I got booty juiced.

I wake up a little later in a room that I’ve never seen before. I was able to sleep a little longer so I wasn’t so pissed. The nurse came in and said, “Are you going to follow rules?” I sleepily nodded and was escorted to a list of small glass offices. I sat my legs shaking furiously when a small Middle Eastern man walks in and introduces himself as the psychologist. I asked as nicely as I could for the psychiatrist and see said, “You have to see me first.” I will save you from the ignorant angry words I said. Finally this smug, douchebag walks in he looks like he is 20 years old and of course he is my psychiatrist who talks to me for like 5 seconds determines they I may not be bipolar but severely depressed. ( There is no way in such a short amount of time he could diagnose me.) He prescribes me Lexapro, Klonopin, and one other medicine to help me sleep. Now the candy cart will be my best friend and I am sent back to my group. I eat dinner finish up and head back to the common area to get ready for bed. I make it back to the room sit on the toilet when someone swings open the shower curtain. ( There were no doors.) “Leave me the fuck alone. I am trying to take a shit in peace dammit.” She gives me a smug look, “We are doing a count do we need to calm you down again.” “Bite me bitch.” I say getting up to wipe. “Are you going to help me out?” She frowns and exits the room. I take a moment and hope in the shower and here she comes again. ” There is no way it’s been 15 fucking minutes already. Leave me the fuck alone.” She stands there staring at me. ” Unless you plan on helping me you need to fucking leave.” She starts to giggle and exits the room. This is my first of a hellish 72 hours.

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