The Mental Health Ward: Informal Inpatient
The Bastard Noose The Mental Health Ward: Informal Inpatient I hated writing this post. Originally it was all in the third person, but I decided it was too detached and out of line with what I've written of The Bastard Noose so far, so changed it to this; which I'm not sure is better. Going over my notes from that time a year ago, it is pretty obvious I was in a weird place, literally and metaphorically. The tone and my engagement with my experiences bounce around some. After eight days I finally got what I wanted, a transfer to a mental health ward elsewhere in London. CLICK HERE FOR EARLIER PARTS OF THE BASTARD NOOSE After darkness had ripped the bright lights of the Emergency Department from my eyes, I was thrown into the sensory stasis of a hospital transport van. Dull blue light sat coldly in the back, the quiet journey through a seemingly empty London indescribably lonely. Although I had an ascribed escort in the back with me, he said nothing and neither...