They took my shoes.
Well, technically, they took my shoelaces - but converses don't stay on without laces, so I gave them up too. My socks were thin, tan, and had little rubbery things on the bottom to prevent sliding. If I wore the socks upside-down, I could glide across the whole kitchen.
Not that it was big, mind you, but it was fun.
One hundred and forty-four laps around the common room made one mile, except everyone else got annoyed at ten, and you went bonkers from boredom at fifteen.
"Cut it out, or you're going to drive me crazy!" Gallows humor in the psych ward.
"I'm afraid I'll be in here forever," I told my shrink gravely. Tim had been in thirty-nine days and counting. Jenna was at three months. It was enough to terrify me - though, to be honest, that wasn't hard, even after three days of heavy tranqs. "There's no one like me in fifty-nine hundred."
"Well a' course there's no one like you." My shrink had an irish accent, red hair, and a terrible taste in clothing. "An' that's the reason you won't be here forever. People with anxiety problems get out fast. Ya just need some time to normalize a bit, and we'll get you out quick as that." His smile was genuine. I almost believed him.
No comments:
Post a Comment