by Karen Baker
* * * * *
Journal Entry #916
I walked out of Janie’s office today. A first. Not that I haven’t wanted to before, but today I just couldn’t take sitting there any longer. My mind is completely scattered. I know I should probably be taking my meds, but I just can’t. I hate them. Nothing stops the voices, and I don’t think I’ll ever be me again. The meds make me feel as though I can’t do anything right, like life is never going to be the same, and I’ll always have to rely on them to make me feel normal. It really sucks. I don’t want to take meds for the rest of my life just to barely function. It pisses me off that I even have to take something for a headache right now. Aaagggghhhhh! Why? I need them to exist, to interact with others, even to think normally. But other parts of my life have suffered. Side effects suck, like the constant trembling hands, and tics in my foot. The stomachaches are ridiculous, and the sensitivity to sunlight makes it hard to enjoy being outside.
If I could just get away with taking the ‘as needed’ meds, I would. But even those have bad side effects. The headaches they cause aren’t worth the calming effect that the meds provide. I’m sick of being sick enough to have to take meds. The medications numb me out so bad I can’t think. I’m not fully present, and I don’t even have enough energy to even get off the couch. The other night I couldn’t even remember how to boil water. I had a complete meltdown in the kitchen. I thought Beth was going to laugh her head off, but once she realized how bad off I was, she stopped laughing, just held me, and let me cry. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life! If that wasn’t bad enough, I forgot I was running bath water one night and the tub overflowed. I tell you, I’ve had enough.
Roger, out.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Beth and Dakota were in the process of cleaning house before their well-deserved escape from constant reality. Taking a vacation is something Janie had always pressed Dakota to do, and Dakota was finally doing it, with someone she deeply loved.
Beth made Dakota feel loved, justified, even wanted. So why, why in the hell was she so sad? Everything was making her cry. The songs that shuffled on the stereo beckoned the tears to come. Again, why in hell was she crying? The tears felt like the right thing do at that moment. It was unnatural for Dakota to feel this way. The tears slid down her face and wiping them away only brought more.
Beth saw Dakota struggling with her emotions. She wondered what was so profound that it had made a strong woman like Dakota cry? She had gotten Janie’s voicemail days ago, but hadn’t seen any changes in her lover, until now. Beth walked over to Dakota, placed her hand on her shoulder. Dakota looked directly into Beth’s deep gray eyes, and started to cry even harder. “It’s going to be all right, Dakota. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you.” With those words, Dakota pulled Beth to her tighter than ever before. Hot tears soaked Beth’s shirt, leaving a dark stain. Beth wrapped her arms around Dakota, pulling her into her arms. Dakota couldn’t let go of Beth’s shoulder. Beth just sat there with Dakota, letting her cry.
Dakota finally pulled away. “I think I’m all cried out for now. Thanks for the shoulder, that meant a lot to me, Beth.”
“No problem, honey. It was my honor, since you told me you hardly ever cry. I can only imagine what you are going through. You need to talk with Janie. She will understand. Dakota please don’t wait any longer. I love you and I hate to see you suffer.”
Love is one thing Dakota never doubted from Beth. “Okay.” She walked to the kitchen where she could talk to Janie alone, without Beth hearing everything. She did have a few secrets that she kept from her lover; she didn’t want to share every part of her twisted, sick mind.
Janie picked up the phone after three rings. “Hello?”
“It’s Dakota. Beth wanted me to call you. I think I might need to go into the hospital. Beth is here to take me if you can call it in. I don’t want to wait in the waiting room with all those people.”
“First, tell me what’s happening. How bad is it?” concern was in Janie’s voice. For Dakota to admit she needed to be in the hospital, it must be really bad.
Dakota held her head and rocked. “I can’t seem to hold onto reality. I don’t know what is real and what isn’t. The voices are very strong right now, and have been for the past five hours. I can’t take any more. They’re winning, and I can’t seem to get a grasp on them.”
“Is Beth around? Is she there with you right now?”
“Yes.”
“Dakota, put her on the phone and we will get this straightened out. Hang on for just a little longer, okay?”
“If you say so.” Dakota yelled out for Beth, “Honey, phone, it’s Janie.”
“Hello, Janie.”
“Hi, Beth. So tell me exactly what happened and how Dakota is dealing with it.”
Beth sighed, “It’s nothing really. I just thought that Dakota needed to talk to you since she won’t talk to me.”
“What started this episode?” She was trying to figure out if Dakota had told Beth anything regarding Shelby.
“Dakota and I were cleaning house, music turned up on the stereo, both minding our chores, when I turned around, and to my amazement, Dakota was sitting on the ground, crying,”
This worried Janie. “What was playing on the stereo?”
“Just a shuffle of different songs. Nothing in particular, just a mix she had put together last week: Melissa Etheridge, Garth Brooks, Rascal Flatts, Cris Williamson, and a few others.”
Janie knew instantly that Dakota was in serious trouble, just from what Beth and Dakota told her about the music, the instant crying, crying for hours about nothing in particular. But Janie had a good idea what had started the crying episode from Dakota. “Delete that mix of songs out. I’ll meet you at the Emergency Department Tell the nurse that I am on my way in. And Beth, you’re doing a great job holding Dakota together. See you shortly.”
Beth hated to have to take Dakota to the hospital, but it was for the best to do it before their trip to Wyoming.
“I don’t want to go to the hospital. There’s too many people. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with me!” Dakota was yelling at Beth now.
“Janie is going to meet us at the ED, so let’s get going.” Beth was shaking in her shoes, scared that Dakota would explode.
“Dammit!” She was furious. A few moments later she asked, “There is no escaping, is there?” Dakota sounded defeated now about having to go to the hospital.
“No. You need to do this before we head out on the road. Dakota, I’ll be right here waiting for you. I’m not going to leave you.” Beth sensed Dakota was struggling with the voices and losing touch with reality.
Gripping Beth’s head between her hands, she asked, “Promise?”
“Promise.” Beth stretched up on her tiptoes to give her lover a kiss.
* * * * *
The first thing that hit Dakota when she walked through the double doors of the ED, was the smell of rubbing alcohol. Dakota shuddered to her core. There was something very familiar about walking into the stench-filled room, but she couldn’t put her finger on it right away, so she let it go. The waiting room was filled with patients with various hurts and pains. The most urgent patients, those with chest pains and breathing issues, were taken immediately to the back area for treatment. And those with suicidal ideations were also immediately sent to the very back, into little rooms specifically set up for the mental health department.
Dakota spoke first, “This is where we part ways for a while, Beth.”
“Please don’t do anything stupid, honey. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Dakota bent down and kissed Beth.
Janie took Dakota’s hand and said, “You’re doing the right thing, and it’s only temporary.”
Sadly, Dakota watched Beth walk away. Janie knew what was coming. As soon as Beth was out of sight, Dakota’s temperament changed dramatically. “Why the fuck did I let you talk me into coming here? They don’t do anything for me, just dope me up wi
th medications, stick me in a little room, and pray I don’t kill myself or one of them,” she screamed at Janie.
“Dakota, you’re very fragile…”
But before Janie could continue, Dakota shouted, “That’s bullshit and you know it!”
They weren’t even in the mental health area of the ED and Dakota was ready to fight. Janie knew this was going to be a very difficult hospitalization for her friend. “Well, you’re here now, and you’re not leaving”
Dr. Reuther was waiting for them. “Happy to see you, Dakota, but never this way. Before we get you changed into scrubs, tell me what’s going on?”
“Doc, not only is it voices, I’m seeing things now. Water looks like flowing blood, people dressed in camouflage, and covered in blood. And don’t get me started on the noises. I’m just ready to kill myself.”
“Do you have a plan?” he asked.
She sat there quietly and nodded. Dr. Reuther knew she wasn’t going to tell him what it was.
“Have you been taking your meds as prescribed?”
Dakota shook her head. “I don’t like taking them, they slow me down. All I do is sit and sleep all day because of them.”
Dr. Reuther continued, “You can’t just stop taking your meds. It can be dangerous stopping without weaning down. You know all this.”
“Leave me alone!” But she knew that this was just the beginning of another long hospitalization.
* * * * *
The first few days and nights on the ward were a blur. One morning Dakota woke at 6:45 a.m. Making her bed was simple since all she had was a security blanket from the hospital. The nurses had given her a security blanket because she had ripped her last regular blanket into shreds. The simple plastic blanket was barely long enough, but kept her warm just the same. After her morning bathroom duties, Dakota headed to the main dining room. Breakfast comes early on the psych ward, 7:15 a.m. She spied a table with only one chair and sat down to eat her marvelous military-prepared meal. Not even halfway through her meal of watered-down, powdered eggs, she pushed it away; it was too disgusting to even try to digest. She didn’t head to the medication window like she should. Instead, she headed back to her room, stretched out on the bed, and fell back to sleep. Besides, she was here voluntarily, so the nurses couldn’t make her take her meds if she didn’t want to.
Dr. Reuther woke her around 9:45 a.m. “You didn’t take your meds this morning.” He sat and waited for her reply.
Dakota sat up and closely eyed the doctor. “Why would I want to do that? Nothing has worked in the past, and they’re not going to start working now.”
“You have to take the meds, Dakota. Either take them voluntarily, or I will put you on a fourteen day diversion, and then I will have you sedated.”
Dakota was getting angry. She thought about her options and figured that the doctor was bluffing. “I will leave before you can do that.”
“Too late. I knew you would try to leave, so I started the diversion already. Now it’s up to you. Take the shots, or the cops outside the door will hold you down while the nurse gives them to you. Easy or hard, but you are getting the shots.”
Dakota glared at him, challenging him. “Bring it on, Doc.”
With a flip of his wrist, the three Veterans Affairs police entered the room. Lieutenant Street spoke softly, “Dakota, you know us. We will do what it takes, so will you please just take the shots?”
She just sat there and said nothing.
“Please, Dakota, I’m not going to ask again. Take the shots or we will be forced to take action.” They took a few steps toward her, expecting her response.
“Do what you have to do, but I’m not taking the shots,” Dakota stated firmly.
The three officers eased up to her and gently took her wrists and ankles. That’s when Dakota lost control. She jerked her arms and legs, but by then the officers had a good hold on her. They placed her face down on the twin bed. Dr. Reuther motioned for the nurse to enter with the shots.
“Dammit, let me go!” Dakota yelled.
“In just a minute,” the Lieutenant quietly responded.
The nurse lowered Dakota’s scrubs, found her mark, and pushed in the first injection. Then she repeated her sequence for the second injection. As the nurse left the room, Dakota yelled, “You fucking bitch!”
She fought with every fiber of her being until the medications took effect a few moments later. The officers flipped her over on her back and placed her into restraints. The restraints, anchored on her wrists and ankles, kept her from hurting herself or others. They were tight so she couldn’t thrash around.
Things were a blur. Sometime later she heard a voice, “You need to eat something.”
All Dakota could muster was, “Grilled cheese sandwich,” but she never remembered eating one.
“Dakota, we are going to remove the restraints, but you must remain calm,” she heard Dr. Reuther saying. When the restraints were finally removed, she curled up into a ball and fell back to sleep.
It was dark when she regained consciousness. “Water, please?”
The nursing assistant handed Dakota a bottle of water. She drank half of it down easily. “How long this time?”
“You’re not going to like it, but it’s been five days.”
“Humph…figures.” She handed the bottle back to the nursing assistant, rolled over, and went back to sleep.
A couple of days, and a few more shots later, someone new came into Dakota’s room carrying a chair. She sat down in the chair and introduced herself, “My name is Laura, and I’m a therapist with the Inpatient Mental Health Department. Dr. Reuther suggested I come in and talk with you.”
“Well, Laura, you are wasting your time and mine. Go away.” Dakota rolled over and covered her head with the security blanket.
“Oh, I’ll leave soon enough, but we need to talk first. Tell me about the nightmares you’re having about Shelby.”
Dakota shot up off the bed. “What the hell did you just say?”
“Tell me about the nightmares and I’ll leave. That simple.”
Laura sat there not saying a word. Now it was a test of who was going to last longer, Laura or Dakota. After forty-five minutes, Dakota finally spoke, “Just leave already. I’m not going to tell you anything.”
Laura, again, just sat there. Another thirty minutes passed. Dakota said, “If I tell you, will you leave?”
Laura finally spoke, “Yes.” That’s all she said.
Dakota sat gathering her thoughts. Where should she start? The magnitude of the nightmares overwhelmed her. They were systematically draining her of her life. She needed to tell someone before the nightmares drove her absolutely crazy. She decided that starting with a stranger would be better than starting with Janie, maybe a little easier even. “What would you like to know?”
“Tell me what happened. Tell me what you think. Tell me what you feel.”
“It’s not that easy. Everything is jumbled together. Nothing makes sense.”
“How about this? Tell me how it really happened and how that differs from the nightmares.”
“Well…”
Hours later, Dakota was talked out. She was exhausted. Never had she talked so much about what had happened in Iraq and with Shelby.
Laura finally spoke, “You should expect nightmares tonight.”
“I have nightmares almost every night.”
“Well, they may be a little more violent tonight. The next few days may be more difficult too. Don’t push yourself too hard. Try to relax. Remember to breathe. And above all else, call me if you want to talk more. I work from 10:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m., Monday through Friday.”
“Thanks, Laura.”
She stood up. “You’re welcome, Dakota,” and walked out of the room leaving an exhausted Dakota to herself.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Dakota slept fitfully until eleven a.m. the next morning when another nightmare woke her. Laura was right, the nightmares were more violent than the past.
Dakota stumbled to the nurse’s station and asked for Laura. She appeared within minutes. “What’s up?”
“Nightmares. Really bad nightmares.”
Laura studied Dakota closely. “Let’s go to your room so we can talk.”
They walked down the hall, neither of them speaking. As they reached the room, “What’s going on, Dakota?” Laura asked as she pulled up a chair.
“First, you were right about the nightmares. Second, I…I remember more, and I’m not sure what to make of it. I don’t even remember it happening.”
“But it’s crystal clear, isn’t it?”
Dakota stared at her hands. “Yeah, how did you know?”
“That’s because it did happen. I knew there was more to you and what happened to you overseas. I knew getting you to talk about Shelby would bring more out into the open. So, tell me about it.”
She started slowly, “Shell and I were out on patrol one day, as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary for over there. We pulled into this little village, Al Kheem. It was quiet, too quiet. No kids playing in the streets, no animals around, and no old men sitting outside front doors. As we rounded a corner, we noticed dead animals along the side of the road. We got out of the Humvee and saw that they had been shot. We followed the trail of dead animals around another corner, to the local mosque. Shell went inside. He wasn’t in there more than five seconds when he came running back out and threw up next to the vehicle. He said that the whole town was inside and that I needed to see for myself. As I walked in, the stench was the first thing that hit me. There, on the floor, lay the entire village. They had been executed. Men, women, and children.”