Please be aware, that if you have a trigger for suicide do not read further.

This piece is written in the hopes that someone who feels the same way might think twice and realize that they are not alone. I’m not looking for sympathy or pity.

Saturday in the facility was kind of boring. There were quick groups in the morning and afternoon with an aide. No Frank today and the TV is on pretty much all day.

I was still exhausted from the Covid I didn’t know I had yet. I did a lot of sleeping but Helen and Jay helped keep me awake with their outlandish stories plus a few I heard just in passing.

Jay’s story was right out of a movie. The CIA had been chasing him since he left the military. The voices he heard were the military or CIA getting close and every time he heard them he would run to a new shelter he had somewhere in the AZ wild. I felt horribly sorry for him, it was obvious he wasn’t getting the care he needed, and doubly so since he was a vet and not in a vet hospital. Why did he fall through the cracks? Why do any of them fall through the cracks?

Helen was similar but on a smaller scale. She was in for methadone addiction which they used to treat her addiction to Percocet. She traded one addiction for another. In the hospital, though she was a bit paranoid that they were giving her tranquilizers along with her regular meds because she was exhausted. I now wonder if she had Covid as well. She would talk to me a lot. She said Jay and I were the only ones she could talk to because no one else understood.

One woman, whose name I didn’t know, was in a wheelchair but could walk with a little effort. She had surgery on her calf and insisted that the doctor put spaghetti in her leg. There were other delusions too, she got along well with Tommy and his big stories.

Amy liked to walk the halls and talk to herself but she could hold a conversation just fine. She was bright and alert, She spent a lot of time in her gown even though she seemed to have clothes.

Three of the four of them were there before I arrived and were still there when I was released and all four had nowhere to go. I’m guessing that’s why they were still there when I left.

In between conversations I read, played scrabble and chess, and did my puzzle, which was coming along nicely but I didn’t think I’d finish at this point before I left. Several bad comedies later after dinner I went to bed remembering to ask for new earplugs.

Two more full days and home. As much as I thought about home there was a certain comfort level here that I hadn’t felt in a long time. No work, no anxiety, no hard choices to make. That made a lot of difference. Also, fewer choices to make. There were only a few food choices, only a few choices of what to do during the day. TV shows were decided by who was in the room at the time. There was no feeling of being overwhelmed. It was very calming.

End day 5