When you get sent to the psyche hospital, you never know what to expect. There are people that seem to be in a coma, there are others that talk all the time, some seem perfectly fine and you can't figure out why they're there. Then there are the people you KNOW that need to be in the psyche ward. And that's why I'm bringing you true stories from the psyche ward: Margaret, Part 1.
Margaret was a very strange person. She kept to herself in her room, but spent the time screaming and swearing at the walls. When she came out in the day room, the area we all hung out in, she would take a book and start crossing out the text with an orange crayon. She took to this task as if it was a school assignment that she had to get done. She would quickly scan the pages and then start crossing out the text. Needless to say, we didn't have many books we could read in the day room.
Margaret was a lithe figure who shuffled around with her arms tightly crossed against her chest. She rarely made eye contact with anyone and stuck to her own business, which involved drinking cup after cup of water with as many as ten Sweet 'n' Lo packets in each.
A couple gulps of the artificial sweeter syrup and she'd go back to yelling at her walls.
Occasionally, Margaret would just freak out. One time she popped her door open, just wide enough for her to poke her narrow face and bristled hair and screamed at the top of her lungs, "NO ONE WAS LAUGHING WHEN THE FUCKING EGYPTIANS DIED." This was well before the turmoil in Egypt and she must have been referring to the ancient Egyptians.
She had a pet peeve about the Kennedys, too. Every couple days she'd blurt out a rant about the Kennedy family and how they were ruining the world. One of her favorites was: "THE KENNEDYS ARE POPULATING THE EARTH WITH THEIR MUTANT BABIES AND WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE." Thank you Margaret.
People learned to stay out of her way. New people didn't know what to make of her outbursts, but there were a few that had never seen her outbursts.
One day at breakfast a new guy mistakenly goes over and sits at a table where Margaret is and sits right in front of her. As he's fiddling with his toast he offers a mild greeting, "Good morning." Within a split second Margaret shot back, "SHUT UP, PUNK." Those were the last words of that conversation.
There were odd moments when she would be discussing her medications with the nurse and she spoke in a perfectly normal voice and talked about an attorney in Montana that was going to take care of everything for her.
I don't know what happened to Margaret. She always refused her medication and once a week a group of orderlies had to go in and pin her down to administer a shot. She's probably still institutionalized. And that's a true story from the psyche ward: Margaret, Part 1.
Margaret, Part 2