My Time in the Nut House

My Time in the Nut House
A little humor
by Desago




I was in the nut house twice, both times I was suicidal, but the people there made me feel really welcome. Especially the second round, because you kinda knew what to expect. There was a daily dose of mind altering meds, followed by the caffeine withdraw, and to top it off, I found Jesus there... actually there was two, but in my Thorazine state of consciousness I couldn't tell the difference between the white Jesus or the black Jesus. SO, I swore off Jesus and founded a new religion out of the orange sweater I found hanging in my closet, all hail Fred the Orange Sweater.

Fred dictated a set of commandments to me in the wee hours of the night, but with writing implements a rare commodity (don't want mental patients hurting themselves with sharp pointy objects). I had to make due with the pea gravel I would sneak in from the smoke yard. I would arrange them in a certain order under my bed from the words Fred spoke to me. I was almost finished with the 99,000 words of the commandments when upon returning from the smoke yard with the final stones to complete the painstaking task, I saw the cleaning lady come out of my room with a bucket full of pebbles and no I'm not talking fruity Pebbles.

My bed was made and all the hard work was missing, I blamed my roommate who had a mysterious accident later that night; apparently he choked on a hand full of pea gravel that he had picked up in the smoke yard. Poor guy, no one even saw him as a suicide risk.

About a week later I was released I wore Fred out the door of the nut house, but he never spoke to me again, I even went so far as to threaten him with unraveling him into a ball of string for my cat to play with. But he has yet to speak. He still hangs in my closet and I wait for him to retell me the commandments because I now have paper and pen ready to scribe the scared words.