When It Rains: The Umbrella Collection

by Prudence Hayes

  After about the tenth question, I wanted to change the subject and asked “So, what happened to that Amanda they were talking about?”

  “Oh, she went ballistic the other night; throwing chairs and tables at the nurses. Somehow she got her hands on a knife and stabbed a nurse as she sat at her desk. She was fucking crazy, man. Nuts,” she told me as we reached a door and suddenly stopped, “H

  ere. Dr. Rosenberg wants to see you.”

  I knocked on the door and I heard her tell me to come in. When I entered I was embraced by a known smile as Dr. Gable, who was sitting in a chair in front of Dr. Rosenberg’s desk, stood up and walked over to me, “Hey, how was your first night?”

  “It was okay.”

  Dr. Gable introduced me to Dr. Rosenberg and we talked about the problems I have been having and the voice was brought up. I told them that I have been hearing it again ever since I was told that I was coming here and that it is the single most important thing to me to get rid of. I would do anything. .

  They spoke of things that I have to do to get better, “Take your medications the way you are supposed to, talk about your feelings when you feel them, do all you can to fight the voice,” Dr. Rosenberg said. I like her. She reminds me of Dr. Gable in that I don’t feel judgment placed upon me. She listens when I speak and looks at me in my eyes.

  The remainder of the day was filled with group meetings that were filled with eyes staring at me. I found myself wishing a newbie would come in, so some of their eyes would attach to them. In one meeting where we were talking about substance abuse, there was a guy that sat by himself with his arms crossed around his chest and his back against the wall staring at me and he didn’t try to hide it. I looked once back him and he licked his lips and that put a stop to my gawking back. He disgusted me. He was really dirty looking with an overgrown goatee. He had more hair on his face than he did on the top of his head. There were a few strands in random places, but most of it was bald. His finger nails were crowded with dirt beneath them and his clothes were stained by last night’s dinner. I tapped Suzie on the shoulder to ask who he was.

  “Oh, him? He is harmless. Just don’t pay attention to him,” she said.

  I felt uneasy with his eyes on me and when the meeting was over I was glad to get away from him. I quickly made my way to my room and closed the door behind me, but remembered that the rule was to leave it open during the day at least two inches, so I reopened it a bit. I don’t like that rule. I feel too out in the open.

  I was reading the Harry Potter book that Skylar bought me for my birthday while I waited for visitation hours to come. I’m hoping that Pops meant what he said and would visit me. As time reached almost three o’clock, I got up to see if anyone was here to see me. As I opened my door I smacked into something and I looked up and saw the face of the man that had been staring at me. His shirt smelled of cigarette smoke and his goatee was touching my forehead. I drew myself back in disgust and then tried to push him aside, but he didn’t move. I struggled to get past him with my legs and arms trying to squeeze themselves through the opening he left on the side of him and finally I was able to get by and walked up to the nurses’ station. He laughed and walked away. My anger defused when I saw Pops and Mike standing there waiting for me. I forgot the creepy guy even existed. My feet moved so fast that I practically ran up to them. I completely overlooked a fight between another patient and a nurse going on a few feet from us. We sat down and I informed them of the comings and goings of this place and that I wasn’t the biggest fan of it, but that I liked the doctors a lot. It was so nice to see them being that they brought me peace amongst the chaos.

  A few days went by and it was the same thing day in and day out. Breakfast, lunch and dinner were given at the same time every day and medication distribution was the same. I liked that aspect though. I knew what to expect and when. Meetings changed every day depending on what nurses and doctors where there. The only thing I didn’t like was the creepy guy staring at me at every meeting and whenever we sat to eat. His eyes followed me everywhere. I saw Dr. Rosenberg pretty much every day. Talking to her like she was my best friend. I knew opening myself up to her would be a difficult, but an important thing. The voice was still around. At a session with Dr. Rosenberg, she asked about the voice and I told her that I don’t hear it as much which I liked, but it still comes around every now and then. She said she thought the medication was beginning to work, but I still have to fight against the voice and teach my mind to ignore it. Sooner or later, it will be completely gone. She told me to try a technique where when I hear, I should begin to sing a song above it, even if I have to scream it. I have to teach my true voice to surpass and overpower the other detrimental voice.

  Today was the museum trip and I was excited to go. I was starting to believe that art therapy was a good way to let some emotions out. I enjoy painting and making collages to express myself and each time I walked out of the therapy room I felt more relaxed. I had just gotten out of the shower and dressed when there was a knock on my door and a voice telling me that the door has been shut for too long. I opened it and hurriedly finished getting ready.

  “Why bother putting on makeup? You will always be ugly and disgusting,” the voice said. I tried with all my might to fight what he was saying with thoughts; it’s words against mine and so far, it has been the winner.

  I walked to the end of the hallway where everyone was lined up and stood in line while I put my coat on. Suzie was in front of me and the creepy guy was a few people back. I don’t like him behind me; I couldn’t watch him there. So, I stood with my body turned to be able to watch him better. I don’t have even an ounce of trust for him.

  Dr. Rosenberg came out and explained to everyone where we were going and the behavior she demanded from us. We walked out of the double doors and into the reception area. Through the glass windows I saw that it was raining. I spied the bus that was supposed to carry us all to the museum and how there was no awning leading up to it. I quickly left the line and went up to Dr. Rosenberg and told her I couldn’t go out there. That there was no way I could.

  “Just put your jacket over your head, Nora,” she said and guided me back to the line.

  “No, you don’t understand. I can’t do it. I need an umbrella,” I said as teardrops began to trickle from my eyes. My body began to tremble as I pleaded with the doctor. It seems as though through the meetings with her I didn’t tell her of my umbrella obsession and problems with the rain. How I depend on them to get me through the droplets and that they have never touched my skin since I was little. She tried to pull away from me after putting me back in line, but I wouldn’t let her go until she heard my intensity. My fingers closed into my palms tightly as I grabbed her by the jacket. I was gasping for breath as the sobs became wails and the wails became painful attempts to catch my breath. I fell to the floor at her feet. Nancy and Dr. Rosenberg dove to retrieve me. Before they could pick me up the creepy guy walked up to me and without saying a word, drew his hand back in a fist and punched me across my left cheek.

  I fell back down to the ground and the ladies dove at creepy guy, tackling him to the ground. Suzie helped me up as blood gushed from my eye. I looked around and saw everyone once again staring at me and a pile of people on top of a screaming creepy guy, who’s name I found out to be Zach. They were all yelling at him to stop fighting.

  The nurse that was at the reception desk buzzed me back through the double doors and I ran to my bathroom holding my blood oozing eye. I looked in the mirror and saw that my eye was already swollen and discolored. The tears that fell mixed in with the blood that was dripping and covered the sink as it trickled off my chin. There was a knock at the half closed door and I saw Dr. Rosenberg standing there with a few red marks of her own.

  “What the hell is wrong with him?” I angrily asked her as I put pressure on my eye to try and stop the bleeding. That was a good sign since I could; no broken bones.

  “He has a tendency to have violent out
bursts,” she said

  “You might want to warn people of that!”

  “We all thought that he had them under control. I’m really sorry,” she said as she came closer to me to take a look at Zach’s damage. She then left to start Zach’s transfer out of Ashford into somewhere else. Hopefully, it would someplace that resembled or was a prison. She also said she was going to call Pops to inform him of what happened. Nancy came in with gauze pads and tape to patch up the cut that was still bleeding.

  “You got what you deserved,” the voice shouted.

  Within the hour, I went to the hospital and back to get stitches and Pops, Brian, Alex and a ranting Mike showed up to check up on things. Mike was fuming because he thought they shouldn’t have had Zach admitted with the rest of us if he was a danger. Dr. Gable, who came after he heard what happened, was trying to calm Mike down to no avail. When they saw me they all let out a gasp. Not only was there still blood crusted around my face, but my eye was swollen a few inches from its origin and it was a nice shade of indigo.

  Dr. Gable finally quieted down Mike. Dr. Rosenberg reassured them that Zach will be leaving and he was in a secure room waiting a vehicle to come take him away. After they left, Suzie told me that word around the ward was that Zach was hoarding his pills in his dresser, so he wasn’t getting his medication.

  I was trying to fall asleep that night in bed, but I was unable to get comfortable due to the bulging side of my face; the side I sleep on. I was thinking about the past few weeks and how bad it had gotten, but that I was lucky to have the people in my life that I did. Pops, my uncles, cousins, Skylar and Scott have all been up here visiting me throughout the days and I noticed that most people in here don’t have many people. I have never seen anyone come for Suzie. The blonde Taylor has her dad come by. Steven’s grandmother comes and Jenny’s mom does too, but that’s it and there are 30 other people here. Granted, I don’t speak to any of them. But that is what I’ve seen. It’s somewhat sad. As soon as I thought about my family though the harsh words I said to them that night at dinner crept into my mind. I didn’t have a chance to talk to them about it since I tried killing myself. I’ve been a little preoccupied. I need to apologize to them when I get out of here. I heard a sudden burst of noise within my head that made me throw my hands up to my ears.

  “I’m surprised they are still speaking to you, you bitch,” the voice said. I took at deep breathe. I can’t deal with hearing it right now. It began to rabble on and on about how much I need to work up enough guts to just kill myself already. It came up with its own plan. It told me to take the bed sheets and wrap it around the shower head and then hang myself from it. It was haunting me and not letting me take any steps forward. I was too vulnerable to hear this, so I decided to listen to Dr. Rosenberg and use the technique she told me.

  For some reason, the first song that popped into my head was “Tomorrow” from the musical “Annie”. I, at first, started out at a whisper, “The sun will come out tomorrow,” but the voice upped its volume, so I did, too. “Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow. There’ll be sun.” The voice and I had a tug-a-war with the volume until I forgot about what time it was and I sat straight up in bed and screamed, “TOMORROW. TOMORROW. I LOVE YA. TOMORROW. YOU’RE ALWAYS A DAY A…,” my finale was interrupted by three nighttime nurses bursting through my door with urgency. They said they thought I was getting murdered or something. After I told them what I was doing and that it was under doctor’s orders to do so, they left my room laughing at me. The surprisingly thing was, I didn’t hear the voice any more. It conceded and I, along with my singing voice, was victorious.

  13

  Apologies

  “Don’t get too ahead of yourself here, there are rules.” My smile became slightly less bright and I sat intensely listening, “You have to take your medication, ALL your medication at the times directed and only the times directed. You have to stop taking all other pills. No other pills, including aspirin can be in your hands or in your system. If you need any just ask Pops or someone and they will give you the amount that you need. You have to see me once a week along with a therapist and do as we say. But, I would like it if you saw them more than once a week in the beginning. You must eliminate all people from your life that cause you harm; friends or family, anyone. The slightest hiccup, the more difficult it will be and the first time you break any of these rules will be the second time you see the inside of a mental ward. Understand and agree?” Dr. Gable said as he sat in front of me two weeks later. He let me know that I was able to leave and try living in the real world and see how things go.

  “I understand and I agree.”

  “This isn’t for you to take lightly. We are very serious and we trust that you are, too,” he said and I nodded my head so he knew that I agreed, “Well, start packing. I’m going to go write your discharge orders.” I smiled at him as he left and he smiled back.

  I jumped out of bed and made a beeline for my clothes and threw them in a bag then ran to the payphones they had for us patients to use. I called Skylar and Pops to let them know I was free.

  I wasn’t lying I was going to fight this; Fight the depression, fight the pain, and fight the voice. I am determined to have my birthday wish come true. I want happiness to enter my life and for me to embrace it. It has voiced its opinion a few times a day, but so far I have been able to hold it at bay.

  I was even more eager to get out because Suzie, the one person other than the nurses and doctors that I talked to, had a breakdown. She was running around throwing things and screaming at the nurses last night. I woke up this morning and she was sitting watching TV and I called her name to say hello, but she just cocked her head to the side and stared. As I walked closer, she looked out of it; her eyes were glassy and there were new scratches on her face with scabs forming. Her arms were tied at her forearms to the arms of the chair and her legs were bound at her ankles. I’m not going to lie; she looked freaky. I tried talking to her, but she acted like she didn’t know me and started yelling at me to get away from her. So, I did.

  After I was finished packing, Brian came to pick me up and I signed a few papers and said goodbye to the doctors and nurses. I was ready to get out of there. Brian came to pick me up and I was so happy to see him and his smile. He had the smile Pops has where his eyes twinkle in the light. As I walked through those double doors through the reception area and opening the glass doors, the feeling of freedom overwhelmed me. I could taste it and when I felt the cool breeze blow my hair in the air and the warm sun rays hitting my skin; I felt exhilarated.

  Brian and I got in the car and began driving home. My fingers wouldn’t stop fidgeting with the orange band that was still circling my wrist. It had my name, birthdate, and patient ID number on it. I tried to squeeze my hand through to remove it and tried ripping it off, but neither worked. It’s there until I find a pair of scissors. So, I just circled it around and around my wrist. Brian reached for the volume button on the radio and turned it down making it inaudible.

  He turned to me and told me how he ran into Mr. Garrison. Jack told Brian about our conversation that we had; the one where I told him to go fuck himself. He wasn’t too happy about it. Brian said Jack was hurt by my words and I told him how he just wanted to know information about me to spread it around to everyone.

  “And, he told me that I need to find God,” I added

  “What’s so bad with that?” Brian asked.

  “Who is he to say that I don’t have God in my life? Because I don’t talk about it or go around trying to recruit people?”

  “Maybe, he just assumes that people with problems lack religion in their lives. I don’t know. What I do know is that when I go to church I can breathe easier. I can go and talk with no judgments.”

  “Is that a joke?” I asked getting a little heated, “You are being judged constantly. If you don’t go on Sunday, you are judged. If you commented a sin, even the slightest, you are judged, even though ninety nine percent of the people the
re have sinned. If you don’t put enough money in the collection plate, you are being judged!”

  “Maybe, but you aren’t judged by HIM though.”

  “Yes, you are. HE is in charge right? So, he pretty much wrote the handbook,” I began to say, “Listen, I speak to HIM and I believe HE listens. I believe HE is guiding me through my life. I have questioned HIM, his existence and his strength. Your God may not let you ask questions, but my God does. He hears me on whatever day at whatever time wherever I want him to. If I want to go to a Kabbalah meeting, I will. If I want to be a little loony and learn Scientology, I will. If I want to have a seat in the Catholic Church I will. If I want to sit on the toilet and pray to God I will do just that and you know what? My God listens. So I beg everyone to stop trying to convert me and let me believe in the God that I want to.”

  “Are you done?”

  “No, my God understands if I need to take a step away from HIM to reflect on myself and welcomes me with open arms when I come back. My God tells me to live for myself, not for HIM, to carry him in my heart, but live for myself.”

  “How long have you been holding all that in?” Brian questioned with a smirk.

  “Whew, a while. I don’t understand why people have to piss me off all the time,” I said jokingly, “And while I’m on a roll, I should apologize to you for what I said at dinner that one night when you guys wanted to talk to me. I was backed into a corner and I just said all that to get out.”