CHAPTER 13
A few days after I woke up in the hospital, I voluntarily signed the documents to be transferred to an inpatient mental facility. Oddly enough, living in a place cut off from the world was incredibly peaceful: We had no internet, no cell phones, pre-screened television, no p**n. None of the patients had any idea who I was. If the doctors and nurses recognized me, no one let on.
There were beds too narrow to feel empty, blank walls, lots of time to think. I did what I was told. During meal times, I sat in the cafeteria and ate bland foods from a plastic tray. During rest times, I slept. I watched television with the other patients, played checkers during free time, and took medication when it was handed to me. They told me to report to therapy; I went. Not a single decision bel
