Home » Friday Fictioneers » Lost – Friday Fictioneers

Lost – Friday Fictioneers

Hello my Readers!  Welcome to Friday Fictioneers on a Thursday.  Couldn’t get my story onto paper, so to speak yesterday and had to rush off to work.  It ended up being a very long day so there was nothing happening in my brain last night, that’s for sure.  A little note to ya’all:  I’ll be a little slow in reading your fabulous stories as I’m back to working full-time, doing crazy hours.  I will do my best till I find a new rhythm!

Before I leave you with my submission, I wish to thank Rochelle for being the best cat-herder ever in keeping this motley crew in line week after week.  Thank you to Sandra Crook for a most lovely photo this week.  For those of you who would like to join our club, please click on Rochelle’s name for the dos and don’ts.  If you are not quite yet ready to add your two cents’ worth but would like to read more stories, please click on the blue frog!

Lost

It definitely looked beautiful from the outside.  But let’s face it, appearances are not always what they seem.  What looked fabulous to the outsider could contain a reality far from fabulous.  I needed to change my inner truth.  My nerves were beyond frayed at this point.  Hopefully not beyond repair.  I needed to get away and reclaim myself, find peace.  Peace.  What the hell was that?  I don’t know when I lost it.   Did I ever have it?  Maybe all this time I had been blind to my truth.

Welcome to our Asylum, Ma’am.  We are here to help you.

100 thoughts on “Lost – Friday Fictioneers

  1. I wonder if “help” means to shock the bejesus out of you. I cannot watch the movies where someone is sane but the hospital staff won’t believe them. Just gives me the creeps.

  2. What a long way we have come from the day of asylums. When I first started out working in psychiatry in the UK, they still had those big institutions with a few of the old treatments being used. I remember as a student nurse refusing to take a patient to undergo electric shock treatment. The ward sister let me get away with it, but said that I would end up being officially disciplined once I was qualified if I took that attitude!

  3. Dear Dale,

    Sometimes a loony bin can be a great place to find peace. Been there, done that. I made some great friends–both patient and staff. 😉 It’s only Thursday…that’s not late, no matter what the Wednesday responders imply. We’re still “Friday Fictioneers.” Love this story. I’m here to listen…remember I got my degree from the couch. Love you.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

  4. Best wishes for finding your place to feel grounded in the midst of your over-loaded schedule. I know you will be back with interesting tales. Peace! ❤

  5. Ahhh … the pressures of life. But, peace is found from within. Places such as an asylum are for those who are harming themselves in some way. Rarely, do they put themselves in. After all, they think they’re well. I’ve had to commit way too many people to know that peace isn’t there at all. Heart Hugs and Loves Light …
    Isadora 😎

  6. Nice take on the prompt. The line “I needed to change my inner truth.” haunts me. I don’t think that’s possible. But we can learn to accept it. 🙂

  7. Nice scene — but good luck getting them to admit you. Nowadays if your not a threat to yourself or others they won’t keep you in, paranoid schizophrenic or whatever. Punch one of the staff— that will help.
    Having trouble with the link again. Can get your site up on my PC but not the post.
    By the way are you still on solid ground there? Worst floods in 55 years our news says.

    • OK, gotcha. Will punch a staff to get in. Mind you, an asylum is not only for the mentally I’ll, it could also be a sanctuary…😉
      As for the link troubles – hmm… I truly don’t know what that’s all about. I’ll try to find the problems!
      Lots of flooding happening here too. My ‘hood’s OK, though my foundation is still not repaired so all this rain is stressing me a bit!

      • Hopefully you don’t have carpet in the basement.

        We lived in Acton Vale during “L’Enfer de Glace” and had a foot of water in our basement. Our wood stove was down there and, thankfully ,mounted on a brick platform, plus long “feet” but we waded through a foot of water to put in the wood.

  8. My husband was bipolar and while visiting in the U.S. was wandering, hitchhiking, and getting picked up by the police because he’d become manic. He wouldn’t admit it and take medication. My son had to finally have him admitted until he agreed to come back to India because he had to work and couldn’t watch him. My son had to keep convincing the court he needed to stay in the hospital or they would have returned him home to my son. It’s different than it used to be. They’re overcrowded. A lot of the homeless in the U.S. are mentally ill patients who have been released. It’s a scandal in a wealthy country like the U.S. It seems to be getting worse. Good writing, Dale. —- Suzanne

    • Thank you, Suzanne.
      Thankfully, mental illness has less of a stigma attached than before…
      Must have been a hard time for your son!

    • Here in Canada it’s the same. It’s “human rights.” Freedom is a right, thus no one may be confined unless they seem quite likely to harm themselves or others. When these new rights came in, mentally ill patients were discharged and left to fend for themselves.

        • Another victim of “individual rights” is the ability of family to learn how one of their own, even an elderly parent with dementia, is doing.

          Doctor–patient confidentiality is a great thing but nowadays a doctor dare not discuss his concerns with family members about how the patient is doing either emotionally or physically. This has proven a real annoyance and possible danger, especially when mental health issues or dementia are involved.

          Before 1960 minorities, including the mentally ill, had so few rights and now so many we’re all drowning in them!

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