The Truth is Sometimes Hidden

[Excerpt from my book “A Narrow Bridge: Awakening from Mental Illness”]

The night before I left the hospital, I asked Murphy, the sternest of all the stern nurses, to call a ROD, a Resident on Duty to come and talk to me. Now I was on 1E, the most open unit, but all the same, I was filled with anxiety. “Wouldn’t you rather go down to Adjunctive Therapy or take a PRN?”, she asked me in her fierce voice. “I need to talk with the ROD, I answered. She looked at me with a face that showed no pleasure. Every once in a while, when a staff member from 7E came down to talk to me on 1E, they would say with a laugh, “don’t let the Dragon Lady scare you.” It was a good description. Murphy was a thin, steely, grey woman without warmth.

Disappointed, Murphy called the ROD. The ROD showed up with nervousness all over his face and a stethoscope around his neck. He reassured me that I was lucky to be on such a nice unit. The ROD had just left 7E, a chaotic and wild unit. I remembered my first night on 7E. It’s only comfort, the thick walls, the thick wired windows, and the thick bricks. I remembered the cries of the patients on the unit, swirling to the words, Julio Garcia, Julio Garcia, and Peter banging his head against the walls. I tried to make myself invisible but I knew that this was impossible. I was so frightened.

The truth was that everyone was frightened on their first night on 7E, even this new young Resident on Duty.

I shook my head and laughed a bit. “They say” I told him, “that people get better on 7E. It’s true.” Silence. “He nodded and I did too. “I’m feeling much better now,” I said.

“Me too,” he answered. Another silence.

“If you don’t mind, I want to tell you one more thing,” I said to him. “I spent time on many units, including this one. They were all too flimsy for me. I could only get better on 7E. On 7E I discovered that truth is sometimes hidden in the darkest places and goodness too. Do not be afraid. This is what I hope I’ll remember.”