They stuffed me full of multicoloured pills: coral, violet, Prussian blue and then they told me that I was ‘medication resistant’ and so they gave me more. When I protested they called me ‘non-compliant’ and ‘unreasonable’. They dulled the passing days. I was beginning to see the attraction. They lulled me into temporary oblivion. They gave me a doped-up, saccharine view of the bleak region I inhabited. It was an escape from the perpetually chaotic atmosphere of the ward, from the screaming and the shouting, from the fighting and the crying. They made me forget, if only momentarily, that I existed without possibility of solitude in a transparent anteroom. They called it permanent observation. To me without the aid of medication it was hell on earth but I reflected that The Ward Attention Seeker had thrived on it. But I remained uneasy. Each tablet drew me further into the backstreets of a world of declining aspirations and diminishing horizons.
Tags: art, creative writing, digital art, easyframe, hospital, medication, memories, mental illness, novel, Pixelmator, psychiatry, treatment
