Freaking Out

freaking out is not a new thing for me,
but sobbing my eyes out is.
last night I did both.
what a weird experience.

being bipolar is usually manageable,
but when your doctor goes changing your
meds too much you end up in a mess.
last time I had a major change,

many years ago, with a different doctor,
I ended up suicidal and
admitting myself to the mental clinic.
now THAT’s not a fun experience either.

at first you think you’re on vacation,
then you go to group therapy and
doctors start giving you a hard time
because you write weird stuff on paper–

NEVER keep a journal in there!
They will read it without asking,
and they will misinterpret it
and then grill you for hours,

and if you mention anyone’s name
in there, any one you like or don’t like,
that’s even worse.
at that time I was into free writing

in a very “out there” way (worse than now),
with dangerous and scary thoughts
that scared some nosey, suspicious
people in there even more.

they start overanalyzing everything
you write and accusing you of having
plans to carry out every fantasy you
have about anything, ANYTHING!

They forbid you to be alone with
people you are attracted to,
even if you just wrote something down
but have explained to them

in no uncertain terms,
over and over, that you have no
intention of carrying any of
your wild fantasies out.

after that experience I learned
my lesson: keep all wild fantasies
to yourself when around anyone
who might be the least bit

judgmental or who has any
power over you whatsoever.
when you enter a mental hospital
they won’t admit you without

you signing your rights away,
giving them complete control
over you and the ability
to keep you locked into

their clinic until the doctor
assigned to you deems it
okay to let you loose on
the public again.

the first time I went to
a mental hospital,
my psychiatrist told me
I was just scared of my own

thoughts, but was in fact
no danger to anyone,
including myself,
because I had a good

value system and knew
right and wrong and
respected that.
so, next time I had a

problem, they would not
take me back, no matter what.
that doctor saw to it,
that I would never be allowed

back in that clinic again, I guess.
weird. WEIRD, I tell you.
They only want people who
don’t want to help themselves

so they can force them into
doing what they don’t want
to do, not the people who really
are moral and want to get better.

is that what our health care
system has come to?
was I not worth their time
because they needed the bed

for someone who they could
lock up for a longer amount
of time and who would fight
them tooth and nail instead

of be reasonable and rational?
do they want to help people, or
just control people?
Enough said.

Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger, Advocate

2 thoughts on “Freaking Out”

  1. I relate to this so much. Though, I wasn’t in a hospital … I was still a teen at home. Having my journals snooped through stopped me from writing for over 20 years. Glad to see that nothing has stopped you 🙂 I really like the authenticity of conversational, personal reveal in poetic form – nice job!

  2. Thanks, Kathy. I’m glad you could relate, and that you like the poem, especially because I respect you as a poet and your style as well. Thank you for reading my poem, visiting my blog again, and especially for commenting. That is very encouraging. I hope to use for conversational, personal reveal in poetic form in the future, but we’ll see. Sometimes my muse takes me other directions, too. : )

    Thanks again,


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