Round Two....!!!

Okay, I know that I threw a couple of extra blogs in between tales of recounting my time spent in the BHC. I was moved to put myself back in the facility after yet another attempt on my life. Had a few fleeting thoughts I felt I needed to get out there so hence this blog is a tad bit out of order but I am quite sure y'all will get past this. So, without any further adieu..... ROUND TWO.......


I knew almost the minute I walked out of the doors of the BHC the first time that I was going to try and take my life again. Somehow, someway, I was going to finish it. Not 5 full days out of my first ever visit to the unit, I tried just that. Unlike the previous attempt, this one was quite impromptu. The details of the day will be forthcoming in another blog. The purpose of this blog is to serve as a second chapter of "Fuck The Cuckoo's Nest, This is Real Life...." I realized how many wonderful and amusing people I left out that needed some true credit and mention. Not to mention I met a whole new slab o' crazies to talk about. Once again, I am not going for a boring recounting.. I want the truth to be known. I want to entertain and touch as I only know how through my writing. I will talk about my fellow "inmates" first and then deftly move onto the staff.

I would be both remiss and a terrible "boyfriend" if I did not start off talking about my on again off again "girlfriend" Brenda..... Ah Brenda..... My hot tamale. My little chimichanga. My little Mexican firecracker. She took to me like a moth to flame. We hit it off and started our first "relationship" in mere minutes after we first met.We, of course, proceeded to "break-up" approximately 3.5 minutes later. It was heart wrenching. I went through a mourning period that lasted all of 36 seconds. Fortunately, by the 37th second, we were back together. This time our "relationship" lasted 8.5 hours. It was bedtime. I snuck to my room before she could find a reason to break up. As soon as breakfast rolled around, we were done again. This pattern continued for the duration of my first stay. We just never could keep it together. It may have had something to do with the lack of any physical contact and almost no emotional connection but I tend to lean towards her dislike of dating gringos. Whatever the reason, at first it seemed destiny was our enemy. Until she showed up in the intake room with me on my return. Seemed she had a relapse with some booze so our love got it's crappy second chance. Another face from the first time around that I encountered in intake was Clif. Tears and hugs abound when we saw each other. You remember the crotchety old fart Clif from Round One who up and disappeared one day? Turns out when they hooked him up to ECT they stopped his heart cold. Damn near killed him. He was all but dead. He was shipped to another hospital and when his heart was better he found himself back in a world that he could not handle. This is not some meek old man. Former Marine. Veteran. Cop. Long-haul trucker. Broken. Destroyed. A shadow. I was sad that he and I would not be on the same ward again but I am sure he is getting the help he needs.That is all that matters. The last face I saw before I made it to the ward was John T. John was in and out of consciousness of often while on the ward, I found it hard to believe that he would survive on the outside. Depression was eating him alive. I am hapy to report that he looked better. Not great. Better. This time around on the ward, I found a fae..... "Good Morning, Beautiful" break.... excuse me.....MORE LATER>>>>>>