The Ward

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"She made me love her," Robert said to the counselor. Since his divorce from Nicole and the loss of his job, he sank into a deep depression. Thank God his severance package was good enough to keep him afloat for about six months. It also covered his stay in the psychiatric Ward at Ellison Hospital.

After leaving the office for the final time, Robert began to drink more than usual. Not just Heineken, but he partook in Grey Goose, Courvoisier, and his favorite, Goldschlager. Being a big guy and a former party animal, he could take in and hold large amounts of alcohol.

About a month into his pity party, Robert received the divorce papers in the mail. The manila envelope and scent of the paper were forever etched into his brain. As the tears started to fall, he heard a gentle knock on the door. Robert hadn't had a visitor since Tameka left.

"Who is it?" he yelled.

"It's me Robert." It couldn't be, he thought. Robert swung the door open and there she was.

"Clara?"

"How are you Robert?" This is the woman who worked with Robert for ten years, got him fired and stole his wife. This woman has got balls the size of grapefruits.

"How do you think I am?"

"Don't be so bitter! Goodness!"

"Oh, I see. I am supposed to be excited to see the woman who ruined my life."

"It's not my fault you didn't handle your business." Robert's fist balled up and his temples throbbed.

"What do you want?" he said through clenched teeth.

"Believe it or not I did not come over here to gloat. I wanted to see if you would come back to work."

"Doing what?"

"As a mailroom clerk. You could work your way up from there."

"Are you serious?!"

"I know it's a step down from what you used to do. But it is better than wallowing in your own filth and apathy."

"Leave."

"But Rob---"

"LEAVE!" Clara quietly strolled down the hallway as Robert shook his head and slammed the door.

Women have such damn nerve! The remote suddenly smashed through the TV screen. Beer bottles shattered against the wall. Plates were hitting the floor and furniture was turned over. Robert screamed obscenities at the top of his lungs. When the police arrived, Robert was balling and rocking back and forth in the corner.

"What happened, sir?"

"Nothing."

"It looks like something happened."

"Nothing is everything and everything is nothing."

"What's your name, sir?"

"Robert Strong."

"Mr. Strong, your neighbors are concerned about you. Are you OK?"

"No. I won't be OK until I am dead." With those words, the officer got on the radio and mumbled some codes that were gibberish to Robert."

"Mr. Strong. My name is Officer Bright. May I join you?"

"Don't matter to me."

"Can we talk?"

"What I have to say doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. I want to know." The words brought Robert out of his psychotic state. He looked at his apartment as if it was the first time he saw it.

"Oh my God. I am so sorry you had to come here."

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to your neighbors when you get back."

"Are you placing me under arrest?"

"No, Mr. Strong. I called an ambulance to have you taken to Ellison Hospital for a psychological evaluation."

"I'm not crazy!"

"No one said you are. But by the state of your apartment and the condition you are in, I had to make sure that you would be taken care of." Robert lowered his head and cried again, this time from shame. What had he done?

The ride in the ambulance was a blur. He did remember answering silly questions like," Are you a danger to yourself?", "Do you want to hurt yourself?", and "Have you ever attempted suicide?" When he finally moved from the ER to the psychiatric ward, his belt and shoelaces were taken. He was placed in a temporary room to rest for the night. The room was narrow, dark and contained an olive green mattress that was six inches too short for Robert's long frame. Uncomfortable conditions usually did not scare Robert, but this environment made him shiver.

In the morning, the door cracked open and a deep voice called Robert's name.

"Yeah?" he said timidly.

"Time to get up and take your meds."

"Meds?"

"Did I stutter? Time to take your meds!" the deep voice yelled. Robert's quick steps vibrated the floor. He swung the door open to look the deep voice in the eye. He stood face to face with an orderly dressed in white. "Biggie", as he was called by patients, was as tall as Robert, but one hundred pounds heavier. He stood with his arms crossed.

"Problem?" said Biggie.

"I don't appreciate your tone!"

"Calm your nerves, Robert."

"CALM NOTHING! RESPECT ME!"

"This is your final warning."

"WARNING?! I AIN'T DONE NOTHING YET!" Robert feigned a punch at Biggie. Instantly, he was face down on the cold concrete floor with his arms stretched horizontally and his legs held together. The pressure of Biggie's weight restricted Robert's breathing. Robert felt that this was his symbolic crucifixion.

"Robert, please calm down."

"GET OFF ME!" The effort to yell caused Robert excruciating pain.

"Robert, I know this is difficult for you. Please calm down so we can get you situated." The voice was different. Robert knew it wasn't Biggie's because he heard the orderly's heavy breathing and felt the hot breath on the back of his neck.

"Robert, my name is Jared. I will be your counselor," the gentle voice said.

"I DON'T NEED A COUNSELOR! I NEED MR. T TO GET OFF ME BEFORE I SUFFOCATE!" Each word was a dagger in Robert's back.

"Bilal, I would like you to raise your body off Robert."

"You sure, Doc?"

"Can I trust that you will be calm, Robert?"

"Yes," Robert weakly replied. He was getting light headed. Biggie slowly released Robert's wrists and lifted his massive body off of Robert. Robert lay on the floor a little while longer to catch his breath. He rolled to his back and saw Biggie's meaty hand extended toward him. Reluctantly, he grabbed it and pulled himself up.

"My name is Bilal. The patients call me Biggie."

"Rather appropriate."

"Anytime a patient acts in a threatening manner, I am required to subdue the individual through restraint."

"I think I figured that one out already," Robert mumbled as he rubbed his chest.

"I am Dr. Jared Miller." The counselor extended his hand to Robert. Robert looked at it, rolled his eyes and sat down on the mattress.

"Mr. Strong, as long as you are defiant, you are going to get exactly what you don't want."

"Leave me alone."

"When you are ready to talk, my office is right down the hall." Jared walked to his office.

Robert refused meals and medication. He left the room only to use the bathroom. Since he was a new admit and considered a suicide risk, Biggie acted as his one-to-one. Wherever he went, Biggie was with him, including the bathroom. Robert did not smile and he did not speak.

Robert got tired of sitting on the mattress. He shook his head and stared at the wall. One definition of insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results. Robert was insane.

Binge drinking and tantrums had been his M.O. since college. It was his way of dealing with his insecurity, pain and depression. He even hid his deepest fears and thoughts from Nicole. He did not like to talk about his feelings, good or bad. But Robert did not want to be insane. He wanted to feel like there was a reason to live.

He stood up and walked over to Biggie.

"I have somewhere to go."

Biggie nodded and replied, "Lead the way."

Robert walked to Dr. Jared Miller's office and sat down in the chair in front of the desk. Dr. Miller smiled and said, "How are you Mr. Strong?"

"Not so good. Not good at all."

"Tell me what's going on."

"Nicole. I miss her."

"Who's Nicole?"

"My soon-to-be ex-wife."

"I am sorry to hear that you marriage is ending."

"Me too, Doc. Me too."