Somewhere in my mind a light shines, even in the darkest soul dwells some form of light. Some of us are enclosed in the same washed out dingy white walls … there are no paintings, instead, big windows with empty views.
The men and women, who work here, wear uniforms that look and smell like the dingy tight spaces we are confined to. At the same time, patients and staff alike are there for the same intention … To let in the eternal sunshine on their spotless minds.
The air tastes old; the food meets nutritional standards but looks dreary. There is one television on a boring channel. No music, nor happy chatter, just the sound of soft feet shuffling. Everything and everyone is dull, sad or doped up.
In the “public” sitting room our connection to the outside is a greyish bacterium layered pay phone __ fifteen minutes max per call, and when it rings, someone must play telephone operator/receptionist.
When checking into this club, you and your belongings are searched …every cavity, carefully. Anything brought in by out-of-towners, is ransacked and sometimes confiscated. Cadbury’s and books are always a safe bet.
A type of prison maybe, but not because of crimes against society, it’s because our minds commit crimes against us. In here we are helped to look for the on-switch that lets the light shine, so we can once again smile.