I had walked inside my home when the voices started. It was a Sunday evening, April 2nd, 2017, I had just come back from a smoke break outside my home… “Come into my world…” “…I will take care of you…” “I’ll show you the way…” Without hesitation I called Brunswick Hall Psychiatric Hospital, where I was admitted 4 years back. I told them what was going on, they said to hang up and call 911. I hung up the voices roared back again, it was a woman with a seductive voice… “I love you… come, I’ll show you the way.” At that point I lost control of my hands it was as if someone had grabbed me by my arms and led me into the kitchen. I lunged for a big sharp knife on the countertop and was ready to stab my left arm.
The entire time my wife was observing what was going on and intervened when I had grabbed the knife. She yelled, “this isn’t you Adam, this isn’t you!” I realized she was right and I regained control and dropped the knife.
She dragged me to the living room. With her hands against my face she said she’s calling for help. It wasn’t time for my evening medications. Maryam took action, called 911, and in due time the police showed up. I knew this wouldn’t go too well but I cooperated with the EMT.
They took me to Southside Hospital in Bay Shore. When they were letting me in I asked the police officer if I could have a cigarette, something he had promised me once we got to the hospital. “It’s up to them from here on.” I asked the nurse, she said something but it didn’t sound like I was going to get my smoke break. I thought once I had this cigarette that all these racing thoughts in my head would settle down. That’s how it usually worked.
They were taking me for intake. I asked the police officer if I could have a cigarette, I didn’t realize I couldn’t smoke indoors so I put my hand in my jacket pocket to take out my pack. The police officer ran to grab my arm, I dodged, got up and the hospital security guard joined to try and restrain me. It was like a scene from one of those Jason Bourne movies. I kept dodging and they kept trying to grab me until finally the police officer tasered me and I took a few steps and fell to the ground. My wife was also getting restrained by another security guard after she had super kicked the police officer. I felt life come back to me. Turns out the taser helped me appreciate how alive I felt. I was yelling as to what they were doing to my wife as they dragged her out of the room. They had me in handcuffs. The charge nurse came in to talk some sense into me. She asked me to promise to behave and they would take off the handcuffs. I started on my rhetoric banter about how the police and the security was treating us. I calmed down and they took off my handcuffs. I knew I was going to be doing some time.
Drugged up and with very little emotions I had a restless night sleeping in the hospital room they had for me. They didn’t allow any visitors at this place. I didn’t know at which point my wife and I had parted ways. They were transferring me to South Oaks Hospital, telling me that I will have to stay there temporarily for a few days until they get my medication right. I had officially relapse.
Schizophrenia, according to what I was taught in Abnormal Psychology class, is 50% genetic and the remaining are environmental factors such as stress and whatnot. Stress had definitely been a factor as the Dean of Students at Farmingdale State College had, and still has, put my account on hold. It had triggered my Ulcerative Colitis earlier on in the semester as I was going in and out of Emergency Rooms. I was unable to register for one of the classes I needed. I had to attend weekly mandated therapy sessions at the school. To my surprise, someone had complained that I was stalking them, I had found out through my therapist. Therapy was helping on and off but was adding more stress. I just couldn’t figure out why the Dean was putting me through this didn’t have the courtesy to return my phone calls and emails to schedule an appointment. I was expected to graduate with my bachelor’s degree by the summer but it looked like it won’t be for another year that I would have to attend. I had made so many plans but everything came to a halt. I wasn’t driving up until last month when I cleared my suspensions and got a car for myself. Prior to this I would get ready to leave at 4 in the morning Tuesdays and Thursdays to make it in time for my 8 AM Small Business Management class. Public transportation is a joke here in Suffolk County.
I guess I needed a break from all this. I had to spend more time with my family. With my newborn who is growing up so fast. The first thing I did after getting discharged from the hospital was to drop my classes and walk in to see the Dean. I was surprised how she too was looking forward to see me and not avoid me.
Dean Johnson apologized for not getting back to me promptly. I accepted her apology after having a look at her desk with piles of paperwork on it. She said she wants to see me middle of July/August to see how I’m doing and she would lift the hold. To my surprise she told me about how a police report had been made, not just a complaint, by this girl that I had small talk with in the hallway for “stalking her”. Lesson learned; not everyone’s perspective is the same as yours. She also told me how she had been keeping tabs on me for a year and a half now. I felt special and felt tempted to ask why but I knew the answer would be politically correct. It’s wasn’t really brilliant idea for the dean to pass this information onto me knowing that I had stayed in a psychiatric ward for paranoid thoughts. This only added to my paranoia and my distaste for the college’s administration.
During my stay at South Oaks Hospital I attended all the activities and group therapy sessions they had during the day. I found them all to be very therapeutic. I remember meeting my social worker the first day when I kept yawning which caused her to start yawning as well. It made us laugh but I was heavily sedated. I made friends there that felt that they needed to share with me their personal stories. I broke off a violent fight when this guy decided he wanted to throw a chair at this girl. I felt like I was part of the staff. There was a devil worshiper there that felt like she was the chosen one by the Illuminati. I got along with everyone, including the devil worshiper. Ultimately I waited for the hour to strike 5 so I could see my wife. My older brother and sister came by to visit, as well. The doctors at the hospital stopped the Adderall.
Today, after my first dose of Adderall I have gotten the drive again to start doing things. I met my doctor yesterday and she felt that it is true that I have ADHD. Prior to this I would wake up drop off my wife at work, come back and lay in bed thinking into the abyss. I was wasting time, which I regret, counting every hour before I had to go back to pick up Maryam. It wasn’t like this every day, I would go see my mother too from time to time. She’s always entertaining and gets me engaged. My seven-month-old grabs my attention as well.
I have a renewed drive to go back to school. To finish not only my bachelor’s degree but to go onto finish grad school in mental health counseling. Today after so many weeks of being out of touch I made an attempt to socialize with my school friends.
During the past few weeks what I thought about the most is about losing control. Regretting how losing control caused my independence to be taken away from me. Now I’m dependent again on others. At least until I become productive again, which will probably be a year from now when I graduate with my diploma. Unless someone has other suggestions.
I had drafted some blog posts which didn’t get published. One of them entitled “Society Labels You Insane; When You Know You’re in Charge of Your Sanity”…I guess that’s not the case, society drives you to insanity. I had another exorcism done but I’ll save that for a future blog entry.
I’ve also got another piece in the works which I’ll publish in a few days, it’s an eyewitness account and reflection on the Fort Lauderdale Shootings back in January which I was a victim of. The shooter was hearing voices.