I have a lot of memories from being at Waltham Behavioral Psych ward. I think I was admitted the first time, because I threatened to chop the fat off my belly with a knife. I THINK that’s why I got admitted.
At that time, I felt really depressed. I wanted help SO bad but didn’t know how to ask for it. So I would cut my belly with a plastic knife, in plain sight of the cameras, praying a staff would see me and stop me, and, help me.
They didn’t and I went to bed with a cut up bleeding belly.
When I was having a hard time, hearing voices or whatever, the staff would pour cold water on me. I remember that. It helped, I guess. A little.
Some good memories were: Courtney, another patient, cutting my hair giving me bangs. Throwing butter packets at the wall watching them stick was the highlight of our day! The staff didn’t even get mad.