All in my Mind

XXIV.

This wasn't something I could get away with in the long term. If you had your hopes up, you'd be wrong. Getting caught was the natural progression of this. I just fell way too hard every single time.

I still had my shining moment though, so don't fret. I ended it on my own terms.

When Nurse John came to deliver me my cup of pills that third night, I threw them. It wasn't really something I'd thought through, but it also wasn't a new behavior for me. I was a regular thrower. He handed me the cup with a concerned look on his face. It had obviously already been noted that I was on a down swing. I took one look and the cup and then launched it.

Obviously that concerned him. He even tried talking to me while he retrieved them from the floor, but I was already committed. I'd laid back down and faced the wall and the girl had laughed hysterically in her cruel way because I was being everything I hated being and she knew it.

It was shortly after nurse John gave up and retired to write notes on my behavior that I managed my next big feat.

I wanted out of the cast.

I needed out of it actually. It was restrictive. It was trapping me. I could feel a tingling like things were crawling around on my skin. It was dangerous. The only way to stop it was to take it off.

"If you don't take it off," the girl explained to me. "You'll die."

The boy just sat solemnly in the corner. He was probably still fixated on the gunshots. He was maybe more sensitive to that kind of thing when it lasted too long, but I was over it. I was moving on to more prevalent issues.

I'd tried simply pulling the plaster apart. I'd ripped at it with my bare hands. My fingernails were shredded. I had even bit it, which was maybe the not foul thing I'd ever tasted. It was not budging.

That's when I clasped my hands into a single fist together. I thought about physics class. I thought about momentum and force. When I'd finished with my little mental calculations on madness, I stood parallel to the wall and put my hands out infront of me in their fist. Then I twisted my entire body as hard as I could and slammed the plaster casted wrist into the wall. It took three times to crack.

It was maybe more painful than expected, but somehow equally as satisfying. I didn't stop immediately after it broke either. I hit it another time for good measure to really cement the damage, and that's when the nurses came back.

"Shit, he definitely got it," one of them said in reference to the crumbling cast.

"Be careful," another added. "He's off his meds."

Have you ever been restrained?

They don't put hands on me often here. I've got rights to not be manhandled just like anyone else, but they definitely do it when they think it's warranted. It was apparently warranted this time. Two male nurses I barely knew showed up and got me. Nurse John didn't come, which didn't surprise me. He didn't like this kind of thing. He was softer than that.

I'll spare you the details, but I will tell you the basics, because I won.

I was taken to the medical center. The cast was cut off the rest of the way because it was now effectively crushing me. They had wanted to put a new one on, but I refused. They bartered with me over it. They begged, actually. I was coherent enough to keep saying no.

What I truthfully said was, "If you want to do it, you'll have to sedate me. I won't accept that. You'll have to do it against my will. I don't consent to that at all, so you'll be doing it without my consent."

And they looked at me and probably saw nothing but insanity, but I know the laws and I know that the doctor couldn't justify doing that. Not while I was very coherently able to communicate my distaste anyways.