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White walls, white sheets, days stitched small by careful beats. Needles, drips, measured doses, names of pills spoken softly. Time here loosens, learns to bend. Morning waits, then comes again. New faces pass, some driftt out, others root in common doubt. Doctors pause, nurses smile, the cleaner hums an old tune awhile. I speak more than I once could, words arrive without a push. Breakfast trays, lunch at noon, dinner comes too late, too soon. Some meals warm, some just plain, none are cruel, none complain. Therapy rooms, paper, glue, pencils worn down to the blue. We walk the halls, slow and near, learning how to stand still here. Nothing howls. Nothing burns. The mind rests between its turns. The world feels far, but not unkind. I am held outside of time. Strange to say, and mostly true, it is quiet here, It is good here, too.
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Feb 3
Feb 3, 2026 at 12:20 PM UTC
Notes from the Psych Ward
White walls, white sheets, days stitched small by careful beats. Needles, drips, measured doses, names of pills spoken softly. Time here loosens, learns to bend. Morning waits, then comes again. New faces pass, some driftt out, others root in common doubt. Doctors pause, nurses smile, the cleaner hums an old tune awhile. I speak more than I once could, words arrive without a push. Breakfast trays, lunch at noon, dinner comes too late, too soon. Some meals warm, some just plain, none are cruel, none complain. Therapy rooms, paper, glue, pencils worn down to the blue. We walk the halls, slow and near, learning how to stand still here. Nothing howls. Nothing burns. The mind rests between its turns. The world feels far, but not unkind. I am held outside of time. Strange to say, and mostly true, it is quiet here, It is good here, too.
A few days ago, I was admitted to a psychiatric ward after a mental health crisis. I was scared at first, but its actually quite nice here. I havent felt this calm in years... Take care of yourself
Andy_doll
Written by
A/Six Feet Under
Feb 3
Feb 3, 2026 at 12:20 PM UTC
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