Hotel California

Today I had my headphones on and listening to my music. I know it sounds bad but I needed a break from my loving children, who want nothing more than to spend every second with me. I was trying to listen to music that I haven't heard in awhile. So what better band than the Eagles. Of course first song is "Hotel California". I know there are many interpretations to this song. To different people it means different things. But I will let you in on what it means to me.

Now I am not sure how many of my devoted readers know about my Bi-Polar. I don't tend to tell many about it. Due to the automatic assumption that I am one of the crazies they hear about on the news, that shoot people or end up seeing things that aren't there. Now I am not saying there aren't people with mental illness that do horrible things. But there is a vast spectrum of people with this disease. I do take medication. I haven't all my life, but time to time when I need it most. I do not murder people or see or hear things that aren't there. I do not sit around contemplating how best to rob or steal or anything else.

I am on the not so bad side. The things I do, that are destructive, have been to myself. There was a long time in my life that I didn't want to think I had this disease. I wanted them to be wrong because all I saw or read about this disease was horrible. I didn't want to become that 'crazy' that everyone stares at.

I was hospitalized twice in my teenage years. The first hospital I went to (for another reason initially) diagnosed me. Now when you are on the ward with the mentally ill, it isn't like in the movies. I wasn't dressed in a hospital gown receiving electro therapy. I was in a room by myself. It was like a room you would get at a hotel, but without the t.v., mini bar or the like. I had a closet, bed, carpet, pictures on the wall and a bathroom.

At first I thought it wasn't to bad. Until I realized that I was the only sane one there. There were girls there that had anorexia. They weighed maybe 100lbs and thought they were whales. They did an exercise once where they drew on paper on the wall what they thought their body looked like. Then they had to stand in front of it. It was amazing how they had such a distorted image of themselves.

They had a guy there that I thought was so cool and nice. We had great talks and a lot of laughs making fun of the staff. Until the first night when we were told it was bedtime. Then as I got up to go to my room and he wigged out. Now I don't mean verbally, although that was a part of it too. He started throwing furniture and punching the walls. It took 5 grown men to hold him down and sedate him. At that moment I figured I would say and do whatever I had to, to go home. I was there for a week.

The next hospital I went to was even worse. They had kids sneaking off having sex in closets!! They had us watching Disney moves for t.v. time (which didn't bother me). They had us do group therapy which is no fun...ever! The private sessions were much better. I had a lot to talk about due to my very close friend's suicide. Everyone thought I was depressed...well duhh. It felt good talking about him. Getting out things even my closest friends didn't know or I have never said, even to this day. He meant a lot to me and I still carry him with me. Anyway, the place was crazy and so many things happened I won't go into. One day we went for "recess". It was not outside in the sun. It was downstairs in the underground parking garage. It was a large fenced area that we could be in. They had us playing dodge ball. Now I am not sure how good of an idea it was to have troubled teens chucking balls at each other. During the game a hearse pulled up. It was within minutes I saw my first body bag. It was at that moment I knew I had to get out of there. I eventually did within a few days. I snuck out and ran away with two friends of mine. From NE to CA. We ended up in San Diego. The second day I was there, I saw someone get stabbed. I went home soon after. Much more to the story that I will skip.

Anyway the purpose of this blog was to give you my view on the song. To me it reminds me of those dark hospitals. Those places I could not wait to get out of. They are still there with me. I dream of them sometimes. Only I never can leave them. I try to leave but can't get out. I am assuming it will always be there in my head. The faces of those that were there because they were further along in their diseases. The ones on the other side of the spectrum. The ones that will always need places like that.


**Last thing I remember, I was running for the door. I had to find the passage back to the place I was before. 'Relax,' said the night man,'We are programmed to receive. You can check-out any time you like, But you can never leave!' *** - Eagles

My little Muffin

Today was the big day. Mary got her glasses. She was so cute staring into the mirror. I wonder whether this is the first time she has seen herself clearly? She has done pretty well with them on today. She has complained only 2 times that she wants to take them off. I wish I could let her but she has to get used to them. The more they are on, the better. She was responsible enough to take them off when she started wrestling. Which is a great start.

She looks so pretty in her pink frames. I can't wait for her to see things in a different light. Imagine all the detail she has missed in her 4 years. A whole new world has opened up for her.

*Oh and pardon the chocolate around her mouth. She got a treat with her glasses.