Mother doesn’t want a dog. She’s making a mistake. Because, more than a dog, I think she will not want this snake.
– Judith Viorst, “Mother Doesn’t Want a Dog”
When I was put in solitary confinement for two days last week, it was a truly horrifying experience. My first night there I was forced to take a bunch of medications. They made me nauseas at first, then I slept. The weird dreams I have had since starting these medications were there, but I still slept a long time. The only markers of time I had were the three visits a day to bring meals and the window to show if it was day or night. On Friday morning, my first morning there, I decided I wouldn’t eat, drink or take my medications. These were the only things I felt I had any control over, or at least thought I might and I wanted to test it. On Saturday evening I agreed to take liquids and medications after they let me out of confinement. I didn’t eat solid food again until Monday evening.
Friday night was a long night in confinement. I barely slept because the medications were the only things helping me sleep and I had refused them. I mostly just paced and thought. Most of my thoughts were about my son and paternal grandmother. I decided that night that I would kill myself the first chance I had when I could be sure not to be stopped. If I succeeded, I would be reunited with grandma and eventually, James. I cried a lot that night, but by the end of the night they were tears of joy at the thought of being with the two people I love so much and that loved me. My suffering would be over forever and that would be great.
PS – Today my breaks were extended to four breaks of 15 minutes each. I also got my boots back, but still no clothes, just hospital pajamas.