Asylum
Posted by Kaleidoscope on January 20, 2008
Author: The Shrink Copyright © 2008
Location: UK
Her reputation had preceded her. She was known as one of the most dangerous women in the country. It was also known that she was selective with whom she talked to, she had been in the system long enough to know that professionals came and went, that they were more interested in what she had done rather than who she was.
I must say that I intentionally avoided her my first two weeks in that unit. Every time I had passed near her door, she would shoot me a look that I could only respond to with a frightened smile. I didn’t believe I was in any danger, but I believed I needed more time to prepare for the eventful meeting.
Then one morning, she stepped out of her room escorted by three nursing staff, passed me in the corridor, and asked me if I was enjoying my time in the unit. I knew this was the time to propose an introductory chat for 4pm the following afternoon.
From then on, we would meet on a regular basis. She spoke of history that would not be found in books. She told me about her upbringing and her demons; I was humbled. I began to realize that her infamous reputation did not live up to her human side but more of the murderous one. She was known for what she had done and perpetually had done, but no one knew what she was frightened of.
In a unit where clients had to assume a place in an imaginary hierarchy, there was great pressure on her to stay in the top echelon. She had no tattoos or body piercing to display her vanity, she was the eldest and she had no friends. But, her murderous intent was her tool. If she continued to make threats to kill herself or anyone else, then she would remain frightening.
Then, karaoke night took place, a musical activity arranged and conducted by clients themselves. Despite being on call that night, I made a conscious effort to spend a good time in the unit. I wanted to observe, listen and learn. The music was loud and they all took turns singing their favorite tunes; the mood was joyous. Then it was her turn, and heavy silence fell on the room as anticipation filled the air. She declared she didn’t need background music and started to sing “Paper Roses.” I didn’t realize that I had tears running down my face till one of the nurses pointed it out; I was taken aback by her baby face features, hardened by years and multiple cuts, her toothless mouth uttering the softest words of this unremarkable love song.
All I could think was: How and what do you know about love? And why is it that even if we don’t experience the real core shaking that comes with true love, we are adamant of its deserting pain?
January 21, 2008 at 5:41 pm
I interpreted “Asylum” as imprisonment for both the murderous patient and the hollowed-out shrink. All that both need is simple human compassion, and perhaps a tinge of passion, to be recognized for their more human quality to be loved and needed. The patient, instead, is confronted with sedating analysis, being doctored too much without trying to remedy her simple cry for human affection. The doctor, in the same token, is seeking the same humanized therapy but in her personal life that is being overshadowed by her professional peers who give off a stringent antiseptic method of medicated therapy. The outcome for both is ‘a deserting pain.’
January 23, 2008 at 9:03 am
I somehow visualized the Asylum to represent life’s madhouse
The Shrink, this is truly beautiful. You captured that bit of beauty in the most fearfully perceived person. Even the black sheep need love and attention, don’t they? Even though the power struggles they create takes them further and further away from what they seek. Power and status replaces lovingness. That can drive anyone mad.
Thank you for such a poignant piece.
January 29, 2008 at 2:21 pm
H. & Harmonie 22; you are both right.
This asylum is the oldest in the country; its dominant structure is situated on the mountainside where pine trees block the sky. Seeing its exterior, one would not imagine such hardship was enclosed by its walls. Being housed within, doctors feel and experience this irony all the time.
This was the women’s unit and this patient was the oldest, not only did she have to prove she was fit to be “sane” but she also had to maintain her position in an invisible power hierarchy ; one where the most painful stories, nastiest tattoos , weirdest body piercing and enormous appetite for self destruction compete on a daily basis.
It was educational and insightful.
July 16, 2008 at 8:25 pm
Shrink, are you bipolar or schizophrenic in any way? I do not mean to pry, but you appear to have the symptoms of both. Is there also any connection to the patient resembling you as a obsessive-compulsive disordered (OCD) therapist? Why would the simplest human emotion, crying, get to you when shrinks are trained to absorb so much? Could it be because shrinks are just as much patients too?