I had one of the worst experiences of my life a couple weeks ago, while under the care of the Arrowhead Regional Medical Clinic Department of Behavioral Health. I checked in voluntarily but soon found my self on lock down. I was stripped of my clothes and given paper replacements. The area was crammed tight with a dozen men that I could hardly find appreciation for, and certainly not trust. We all suffered from a list of maladies such as paranoid delusions, a desire to hurt ourselves or others and generally not interfacing well with the “normal” members of society. I have since felt compelled to write a brief descriptions of these events, hoping it will someday help me or someone else deal with similar issues.
The incident began with an argument with my fiance Heather. I couldn't stand the arguing anymore so I took off with a bottle of wine to reflect on the situation. Later that night I started getting very confused and ended up taking a few puffs of marijuana. The next morning I wanted to avoid Heather before leaving for work so I foolishly left our 22 month old daughter, Sophia alone without a diaper eating a banana. I figured that my mother in law to be would be up any minute and would simply find her munching on a banana and happily watching Barney. No matter how I justified this it was a ridiculously terrible mistake.
The next day I found out that Heather would no longer talk to me, primarily due to the way I left Sophia as well as our ongoing arguments. The guilt from my mistake combined with what seemed like the final loss of someone I deeply love severely impacted my mental sate. What followed over the next several days was a complete mental break down. My body was constantly racked with a host of terrible emotions. First was that Sophia had actually died due to my negligence. This feeling haunted me for several days and when I tried to sort it out I became confused and overcome with emotion. There were times when I was really sure that she was dead, and possibly my whole family including Heather and her mom. Words cannot describe the anguish that I experienced.
With this fear came the thought of my execution. Certainly I deserved punishment for letting my daughter die. In the locked down facility I felt trapped as a prisoner, and felt sure that I was being put to death in the most humane punishment possible. I feared sleep and didn’t have the bravery to accept my fate, several times I half heart-idly attempted to escape. The first night they had to have 10 men hold me down so that I could be injected with a sedative.
The next day went mostly well, although I was able to find a bit of strength at resisted a strong arm attempt by several men to beat me and rob me of my cigarettes. That night new horrors awaited me. At some point I became convinced the zombie apocalypse was upon us. They had drawn my blood, and that of everyone else on check in. Some were now being released. I was terrified that I had the disease. Several men in the unit slept all day long and I began to become convinced that they were the walking dead. So I planned escape in the event that I had to flee.
I took several bed sheets from other rooms and tied them together in my bathroom. If the unit was put on lock down I would break out the window of my room with a chair and climb the sheet rope to freedom. I think one of the other men in the word saw my paranoia and decided to play it against me. He told me that the hospital we were in was a FEMA concentration camp and that the reason some people were leaving the ward was so they could clear out as much room as possible to start bringing in dead bodies.
Just after that we had a smoke break. My dad had brought in a fresh pack of smokes for me and I passed them out to about 12 people for us all to enjoy. The man who sparked the FEMA conspiracy in my mind came to the door as we were out on the patio, totally enclosed and locked in except for a few windows, and waved goodbye to me with a sly smile. I watched as he walked quietly away and down a corridor that was usually guarded by the staff. I lost it.
Anxiety and adrenaline rushed through my veins. i turned around to the smokers behind and yelled out, “THIS IS IT! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW! WHO’S COMING WITH ME?”. Of course there were no takers so I grabbed the closest chair and swung with all my might against the window. With the second strike the window popped out and I climbed through it. The staff came rushing around the corner and in an instant I realized that I was wrong. Again I was pinned down and sedated.
The next day I was transferred to a nicer facility where we had daily group meetings and I felt much more comfortable with the staff and my fellow patients. I was prescribed new drugs and found peace while reading the bible. The most important lessons I learned in this ordeal were to stay on my psychiatric medications and to daily read the bible to further the strength of my faith in God the Father, Jesus and the Holy Ghost.
