How to be a Mental Patient
A Guide for the Amateur Only
Introduction:
Etiquette, we know, is important, and help is available at any book store or newsstand.
But will be useful? In my opinion, far too much etiquette advice addresses questions that most of us are unlikely to face. Better to know the correct form for addressing the booking Sargent than the Queen of England. Far better to know which lawyer than which fork. Speeches made to the Kiwanis are less important than your speech to the car jacker who wants your car (purse/ life/daughter/husband…). In short, there is very little emphasis on those real life situations where etiquette is truly vital.
In the interests of breaching this gap, I offer a few tips on how to behave in the one place we all have a chance of visiting: the mental hospital.
Most people, of course, do not check into a psychiatric ward for rest and relaxation, though this is, of course, what your friends will be told...Most come, in fact, against their will.
More’s the pity;I believe that this narrow approach to modern mental health facilities is misguided. In fact, whenever I’m looking for a clean, affordable, and really interesting place to spend my next vacation I always think: Mental Hospital. Being a mental patient is highly underrated; mental hospitals are fascinating. Lots of cool people are ex-mental patients; sometimes they check in on a regular basis, that’s how cool it is. Approached correctly, these can be the best days of your life.
Don’t want to worry your loved ones? Relax, your relatives will be delighted that an impartial jury (read; ‘doctor’) has designated you the crazy one. They’ve always suspected it.
On the other hand, if you don’t wish to be treated like a psychotic imbecile for the rest of your life, lie to your family. Tell everyone you’re going to Majorca.. With the new HIPPA laws, no one, but no one, will know where you really are, (many mental patients themselves don’t know where they are, at least until the drugs they slammed wear off).
Choosing a Mental Hospital:
If you are conscious, or otherwise have a choice, try to go to a large long-established mental hospital. Mental wards in regular hospitals are cramped, confining and generally depressing. Old, old mental
hospitals are eerie, compelling and never boring. 
Do your homework. Really run-down hospitals tend to be freer with controlled substances - how else would they get any business?
Arriving:
People arrive at a mental hospital in a variety of ways. The most important question to ask yourself is - will it make a good story? Mental patients should always bear in mind the importance of being an entertaining companion. Witty repartee is valued here far more than during a State dinner at the White House. And is far more likely to be reciprocated.
If you arrive in a police car, remember that you will get points for cuff marks on your wrists, so struggle.
If you arrive by ambulance, make sure you are either raving, bloody or unconscious. Raving gets you the best drugs.
Admittance:
If you have not been committed, don’t worry, you can still come. Here’s how:
To gain admittance to any mental hospital, all you have to do is say the magic words. The magic words are: “I’m going to kill myself, and I have a plan”. Repeat this to everyone you meet - everyone with set of keys, that is. Those without keys are inmates, and will not find you particularly interesting unless you are already bleeding.
First, put yourself in the mood by doing the following:
1. Examine the breakdown of the Bush tax cuts.
2. Go to a department store changing room. Take off all your clothes and examine yourself in the three-way mirror.
3. Root for the Cubs.
What to take with you:
If you are suicidal, leave at home your copy of Murder in the Cathedral, the works of Sylvia Plath, Mozart’s Requiem and your poster of Muchen ‘s The Scream.
If you are simply drying out, bring whatever you like, including the Bacardie 151 you have transferr
ed to your aftershave bottle. An empty Bay Rum bottle is a good choice.
Remember to offload both your meds and your weaponry before you hit the gate. Psych Hospitals are notoriously unclear on what is theirs and what is yours. Your belongings, person and room will be methodically though ineffectively searched. They won’t give back what they find.
If you smoke, conceal several packs of cigarettes and a few lighters inside the cuffs of a heavy terrycloth robe. Once in your room, these can be hidden in the hems of curtains, (feel free to unravel a bit of seam), or, in the case of lighters, stuck to the bottom of your desk or table with a bit of chewing gum. Until you are given smoking privileges, you will have to smoke in the bathroom; stand on the toilet seat directly below the exhaust fan. You will probably be caught, in which case you will lose your smoking privileges. So you’ll have to do it again.
Narcotics must be similarly concealed. Be aware that you will be subject to random drug testing. Have a friend or family member bring you poppy-seed cake at regular intervals; this makes an excellent excuse for opiates in your UA .
Next time: The Ward, or Oh, The People You’ll Meet!


Comments: 102
And I mean that for real! STOP!!! I don't like the sight of my own blood!!!
Urgh! Gurgle! Gasp!
Your humor is a shot in the arm at 6:13 this morning!
Looking forward to Part II you crazy woman.
Great writing.
After several years on anti-depressants, I grew depressed by the fact that all the seemed to accomplish was to make my "tallywhacker" less sensitive than the typical doorstop (trust me on this.) It seemed like a reasonable question to pose: "Why am I taking anti-depressants when they only make me feel more depressed? And they take away the ONE activity that had any hope of giving me a few happy moments!"
Apparently, this was NOT a reasonable question. It was a short time later that I was "offered" my "vacation opportunity." I wish I had read your tips before that experience... I would have been much better prepared! I lost my favorite keychain utility knife, and several neat little containers custom designed for my men's toiletry bag! I didn't smoke at the time, but I soon "pretended" so that I could eventually get privileges to go out to the front of the hospital with the other's when they smoked. It felt like playing hooky from school!
I also remember one night when, after several hours of sleep, I awoke and realized that one of the night nurses was searching my area of my semi-private room. (I'm sure this happened every night, but this was the first time I had realized it.) I pretended to go back to sleep, and when she finished, i heard her step toward the door. But then I realized that she hadn't left the room. Instead, I could make out a vague silhouette against the curtain separating my bed from my roomie's. Hmmm... what was she up to? As I lay there, I realized that she was positioned so as to observe the region of my bed that is functionally below my waist! I was still confused. What the heck is that all about? But it is now something of a game, so I don't give away the fact that I know she's there. Slowly it dawns on me that she is observing whether or not I engage in self-satisfaction through self-abuse! Wow! I didn't even know they cared!
Now, if you're a male, you might immediately recognize the quandary that this presents. (Let me clarify here that this night nurse was quite attractive as nurses go, which should be neither here-nor-there, but it ain't!) So, are they simply monitoring for the sake of gauging some measure of my mental status? Will they suddenly start putting saltpeter in my food if they catch me at this activity? Or is "getting off" a good thing in their eyes? Maybe it represents a positive in the sense that if I guy can do so, he's not totally catatonic!
But then there's another issue: If you are trying to engage in a neutral monitoring and observation of this type of activity, is the use a young attractive female nurse the best way of doing so? It seems to me that this brings the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principal perfectly into a non-quantum level framework! Using a good-looking female to observe a frustrated male's sexual behavior is definitely going to influence said behavior. I'm sorry people, but it just is!
But wait! Am I somehow "expected" to perform? (Anxiety beginning to build...) Is she a "seasoned" observer who will evaluate not only the presence or absence of such activity, but also the qualitative aspects (length, girth, general awesomeness...?) As I ponder these questions, I realize that I can't handle this kind of pressure... I just can't! So I continue to pretend that I'm just sleeping.
But I'll always wonder... would I have gotten an "A" or an "F"?
And I can't wait to work this into HTBAMP Version II!
I feel much better without them, (though I do find myself fashioning nooses out of my used dental floss, but I'm sure it's nothing...)
I love your sense of humor.
The people in the ward with me were mostly either suicides (failed) or alcoholics. I was depressed. I think my psychiatrist thought that my hippie daily consciousness expansion activities were pathological too. He was retired navy. :)
Volleyball was very interesting.
That's interesting, because cigarette priviledges really were the only hold the staff had over us, and they were very much a means of control. Strange how this has evolved. Of course, being me, I took up smoking in protest. (I was in my 50's) Turns out it was the gift that keeps on giving, 'cause I am *still* smoking years later..(:-<)
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You might want to reconsider using this in your title. I almost brushed this article off, since I don't consider myself an amateur. Glad I didn't. This was fun.
Someone knocked my fearless out of me a few years ago, which prompted me to march myself straight to the nearest psychiatric facility to find out how I was supposed to live with fear. I think you would be quite proud to see how closely I followed your advice.
I knew you were prescient...
Mark:
Pants?
Good.
Mark, pleas put your pants back on!
beware.....
There is something so freeing about being declared non compos mentis that a great joy rose up in me. I went from depression straight to hilarity, to the immense confusion of the PTB, (who kept testing me for illicit drugs). And it was contagious. Go figure.
Next month perhaps I'll buy my prescription refill and forego my health insurance premium. (One would think those choices would be mutually exclusive, but, alas, that is not the case.) Eventually I plan to sell my kidneys to pay for my health insurance. That should be good for a month or two, as long as I forego my meds. Oh wait, my son has a birthday coming next month...
Did I ever tell you I was one of those working on the inside? You would have made our day.:)
*in a research lab - just happened to be on the infamous 4th floor...
1. Examine the breakdown of the Bush tax cuts.
2. Go to a department store changing room. Take off all your clothes and examine yourself in the three-way mirror.
3. Root for the Cubs."
Or balance the checkbook, which works wonders lately.
I don't know how I'd missed this earlier. It's terrific. I've felt for a long time that I'm only one arm-flailing, head-banging episode from a close-up examination of local inpatient facilities, and it'll be nice to have a brush-up on how to get along, since I haven't read I Never Promised You a Rose Garden in about 10 years.
a> you don't have to worry about time. you get told when to sleep, when to eat, when to take your meds.
b> you don't have to worry about things like bills until after you get out, if they let you out.
c> good drugs
d> you get to meet new and interesting people constantly.
e> no one cares if you feel like talking to yourself or the wall.
that being said, if i do end up in one, i'm gonna make sure it's on Ina's ward.
It's my most well-received piece while being at the same time utterly unpublishable. Go figure...
This is going to be invaluable. So much so, I print a copy everyday, tie it in a baloon and swallow it. That way if I am unexpectedly confined, I'll always have it with me.
I missed this one, too?
This is too funny.
We must not have been connected yet when you published this on Gather! I feel like I've found a whole treasure chest of your writings.
Insuran