Post by Nathan Webb on Nov 4, 2011 20:46:49 GMT -6
“God allows us to experience the low points of life in order to teach us lessons we could not learn in any other way. The way we learn those lessons is not to deny the feelings but to find the meanings underlying them.”
- Stanley Lindquist
Lows suck for a reason. There is nothing positive about them.
People use phrases and terms like silver lining or lessons learned in order to breathe an aura of positivity into our downfalls and misfortunes. But no matter how many things we can take away from these bad situations nine times out of ten they don’t make a bad situation better or even remotely good.
Of course with lows there is an absolute bottom. Each individual may have an idea of what that bottom could be but as I knew at this time that bottom is so much lower than we ever could imagine.
My bottom…well I thought that bottom was hit when I was forced by my own mind to leave the country a couple years back and go to Africa as part of the Peace Corps. It was not only hard knowing I had to leave something I had so much potential to make my name in (wrestling), but that I had essentially tapped out when I made this move.
Here is where that hypothesis was proven wrong. First I was literally beaten to a pulp on Sunday; the who, what, and how was up for debate. According to the little info I got there were reports from the Ace saying the injuries I received were self-inflicted, while others had theory saying the Ace was behind it.
Who knew what was really true? Not me.
The only thing I remembered was a severe pain to the back of my head and bright flash of white light before I was left unconscious and for some reason down a flight of stairs. And since there was no photographic evidence or witness testimony (beyond that of the Ace) there was only conjecture and at best circumstantial evidence.
But then there was that matter of where I was at. Not just any hospital, but a mental hospital.
What made matters worse was this was not at the request of me or even the NCW staff but at the behest of a concerned citizen, Mr. Jake Conway. His concern being that I was a danger to myself and those at New Championship Wrestling. Which was quaint seeing his care for both Venom and Verona but that was beside the point.
Beaten and sent to a mental asylum for it I found myself in the infirmary for the first couple of days. I only left my bed if I needed to use the bathroom which was done in a slow and arduous of manners due to the pain I was in from my ribs and back. The rest of the time I just sat there and stared blankly in front of me. Sometimes I tried to remember what happened that Sunday night, which only resulted in reliving the moment of that sever pain to my head and flash of white light, but the rest of the time I only thought of the helpless situation I found myself in. Here I wasn’t relying on myself on making decisions on my own. Here I was instead at the whim of another and whatever medical treatment they “deemed” I needed.
On the third day I found myself put into a wheelchair and carted into the office of Dr. Natasha Riley. Doctor Riley herself looked to be in her late forties, and had the Eastern European body type. Despite her age she definitely looked like she took care of herself, but her eyes showed a lack of sleep but with that showed a dedication to the job as psychiatrist at Hill Crest Mental Hospital.
The doctor, who was also the messenger of my current plight, was sitting in front of me in a cushy office chair. Beside her sat a familiar face sitting on a folding wooden chair that was backward, her arms on top of the back of it while she sat staring at me chewing her gum very audibly. Her hair was pulled back and her almost pale face was a contrast to the dark colored lipstick she wore. After a couple seconds I realized this particular woman was the same person that alerted Doctor Riley when I finally woke up.
I don’t know whether it was her stare or something else but my eyes were fixated on her. Who was this woman and why was she here in a “therapy” session with Dr. Riley?
I just sat there having a staring contest with this with this woman, something which didn’t take Dr. Riley long to pick up on.
“I assume you are wondering about this lovely lady sitting to my right. This lady is Rose.” Rose gave a slight wave at the introduction. “She is a patient here, but she also has a degree in psychology so she comes here from time to time to help me out with patients. To most here she is like a sister and can communicate with them better than I could sometimes”
I just sat there staring at them. The news that Rose was a patient really didn’t elicit a reaction at all.
After a brief period of silence after the introduction Rose was actually the first one to speak up.
“Doctor Natasha, I’m not seeing it.” Rose said smacking her gum at the same time.
“Seeing what?” Dr. Riley asked keeping her eyes set upon me.
“That Mr. Nate is as dangerous as everyone says he is.”
Dr. Riley nodded. “I would agree with you on that Rose, but first let me ask Mr. Webb this; do you know why you are here exactly?”
I shook my head in the negative. I knew” the what” I was here for, no matter whether it was true or not. The realization that I was here was bad enough and frankly to be honest the circumstances of me being here was definitely the last thing on my mind.
“Well let me once again be the messenger that gets shot.” Dr. Riley said referencing her giving me the bad news of where I was at when I woke from the near coma I had found myself in. “As you know you were brutally attacked. Now, despite the evidence to the contrary, according to one Mr. Jake Conway the injuries you sustained were self-inflicted.”
I shook my head and snorted air out of my nose in disgust.
Dr. Riley of course continued on. “Of course Mr. Conway was also concerned about your well-being. So much though that he called his family psychiatrist who hearing your plight immediately recommended you transferred from the hospital from where you were lying unconscious to here.”
Upon hearing this I started to take the arm rests of my wheelchair in a death grip and bit my lip to the point where I tasted blood. To say my blood was boiling was an understatement. While apparently there was no proof to be certain, my intuition and all logic was telling the “caring” individual that the ace was had set me up simply to prove a point to Roberto Verona. Nothing more and nothing less.
“Oh I think Mr. Nate is angry.” Rose stated seeing my face turn red in anger.
“Yes I can see.” Dr. Riley responded with very little emotion.
I wanted to let my anger go in a compete outburst leaping out from my wheelchair despite the pain that I was in but I knew I had to keep my composure less I would dig myself an even deeper hole than I found myself in now.
Dr. Riley stared intently in my eyes. I was breathing heavily trying to keep what little bearing I had left.
“Now Nathan, I see you are upset.” Dr. Riley said. “I see that you feel like you don’t belong here and in some ways I would agree with you. You see this session wasn’t about therapy but about me getting a first impression of you. You didn’t even need to speak; you just needed to sit there as I looked into your eyes. And in the end do you know what I see?”
I stared at her blankly not saying a word.
“I see a man not dangerous…yet. I see a man that isn’t a danger to himself or the people he works with like others have said.” Dr. Riley got up and moved closer to me speaking a solemn voice. “I see a man who instead is lost. A man craving direction but not finding it. A man who wants to shed his past and move into the future. A man who can’t convey emotion effectively. A man who if he can’t control these facets will probably break down once again. You may not have the issues that others think you have but I want to help you break free of what holds you back…because you know what I believe in you.”
The room went silent once again. Dr. Riley and I fixated upon each other. Once again I was in a position I hated; helpless and at the whim of another person. I hated being forced against the wall like a caged animal. While I wanted to pounce I knew I had to keep my cool, if for anything else that to get my ass out of this place.
Doctor Riley would break the silence once again.
“Now Rose I believe it is pizza day this afternoon so if you wouldn’t mind escorting Mr. Webb here to chow.”
Rose jumped out of her chair elated by the news like a little kid hearing the news that she was getting candy clapping and making a mad dash toward my chair.
“Come on Mr. Nate.” She said in a joyful mood. “It’s lunch time. You’ll like lunch time here. Pizza day is the best here….”
Rose wheeled me down to the cafeteria. I was still in that mood where I could give less of a damn. It could have been spam or even hell a five course meal and I wouldn’t have been made a fuss in either direction. Frankly I didn’t care. Was I self-loathing? Sure but I didn’t see any other alternative.
Rose herself seemed to be in an eerily perky mood. Whether it was due to any medicine or the notion that this was home to her was beyond me. Despite her perky mood her outfit and makeup were not reflective of it. Her outfit looked like something out of Hot Topic with a pair of carpet dragging black jeans and a fitted Disturbed T-shirt which of course was coupled with her make-up made a complete contradiction with her personality.
As we made our way through the hallways Rose was suddenly approached by an individual carrying what appeared to be a hand crafted object. The individual was heavyset and obviously looked in a nervous wreck.
“Here…here you go Miss Ro..Ro..se,” the man said in a stammer. “I m…m…made this for you earlier.”
Rose stopped and took the object greatfully cupping her hands around both flower and the gentlemen’s hands. Upon further inspection it was a flower that was all black that along with it. “Thank You Mr. Jeffrey,” she said gleefully, “It’s a very beautiful flower.” Whether it was true or not Rose took the gift like it was a real and beautiful flower very graciously. Jeffrey seeing Rose’s response stepped to the side and walked away like he was nervous and scared.
“That is just Mr. Jeffrey,” Rose said trying to clarify Jeffrey’s actions and behavior. “He has schizophrenia and avoidant personality disorder. It used to be a chore to even get him around people and has made so much progress.”
To Rose it just wasn’t a gift but a matter of pride of seeing an almost family member grow and succeed. I took a heavy sigh. It’s not like I didn’t sympathize with these people but I also felt more and more with every moment that I didn’t belong.
Rose obviously was picking up on my mood because instead of taking me to the cafeteria she took me to the grounds outside. Slowly pushing along she took me to a quiet place along the side walk.
“Figured you could use some air Mr. Nate.” Rose said stepping to the side of me. The outside was the “yard” where the patients got their exercise time. In front of me was a grassy knoll that had a slight downhill decent leading to the wall lined with hedges. Beside the knoll there was a basketball court and a sidewalk to simply walk around.
I had to admit the fresh air was a relief. I closed my eyes breathing in the brisk air. The weather was chilly but felt good against my skin. It was that weather in the south where the winter was showing itself with the transition from October to November.
Rose stood there and I just sat there enjoying the semi-freedom I was provided. While I was still injured I wanted to jump up and run around but because I was still in a lot of pain I didn’t which only bummed me out a little more.
Rose seeing the now dejected look in my face wrinkled her face a little bit obviously not impressed, caring or sympathetic with my mood. So she went behind me and grabbed the handles of my wheel chair and moved me forward onto the grassy knoll. Without warning or even a word from her I felt a swift kick to the back of my wheel chair that sent me rolling, fast, down the hill.
It was a terrifying few seconds rolling with a wheelchair that I couldn’t control. I was at the whim again of not only myself but of some outside force. Finally after these few seconds of terror I hit the shrubs hard separating myself from the wheelchair. As I looked up I saw a couple of orderlies start running my way which were immediately waved off by Rose who was slowly approaching my downed position as I struggled to get myself back to my wheelchair which was a very painful ordeal.
After almost a minute Rose arrived at me as I was literally crawling back to my chair. There was an element of calm in her eyes that somehow unsettled me as she bent down and looked into my eyes in the quietest voice I have heard from her while keeping her usual upbeat tone.
“Mr. Nate, I know you are not like the rest of us. You are not nearly as bad off, and dangerous as Mr. Conway says, in fact you are the most adjusted person here. But really Mr. Nate your mood is quite a buzz kill to me.”
To be Continued….
- Stanley Lindquist
Lows suck for a reason. There is nothing positive about them.
People use phrases and terms like silver lining or lessons learned in order to breathe an aura of positivity into our downfalls and misfortunes. But no matter how many things we can take away from these bad situations nine times out of ten they don’t make a bad situation better or even remotely good.
Of course with lows there is an absolute bottom. Each individual may have an idea of what that bottom could be but as I knew at this time that bottom is so much lower than we ever could imagine.
My bottom…well I thought that bottom was hit when I was forced by my own mind to leave the country a couple years back and go to Africa as part of the Peace Corps. It was not only hard knowing I had to leave something I had so much potential to make my name in (wrestling), but that I had essentially tapped out when I made this move.
Here is where that hypothesis was proven wrong. First I was literally beaten to a pulp on Sunday; the who, what, and how was up for debate. According to the little info I got there were reports from the Ace saying the injuries I received were self-inflicted, while others had theory saying the Ace was behind it.
Who knew what was really true? Not me.
The only thing I remembered was a severe pain to the back of my head and bright flash of white light before I was left unconscious and for some reason down a flight of stairs. And since there was no photographic evidence or witness testimony (beyond that of the Ace) there was only conjecture and at best circumstantial evidence.
But then there was that matter of where I was at. Not just any hospital, but a mental hospital.
What made matters worse was this was not at the request of me or even the NCW staff but at the behest of a concerned citizen, Mr. Jake Conway. His concern being that I was a danger to myself and those at New Championship Wrestling. Which was quaint seeing his care for both Venom and Verona but that was beside the point.
Beaten and sent to a mental asylum for it I found myself in the infirmary for the first couple of days. I only left my bed if I needed to use the bathroom which was done in a slow and arduous of manners due to the pain I was in from my ribs and back. The rest of the time I just sat there and stared blankly in front of me. Sometimes I tried to remember what happened that Sunday night, which only resulted in reliving the moment of that sever pain to my head and flash of white light, but the rest of the time I only thought of the helpless situation I found myself in. Here I wasn’t relying on myself on making decisions on my own. Here I was instead at the whim of another and whatever medical treatment they “deemed” I needed.
On the third day I found myself put into a wheelchair and carted into the office of Dr. Natasha Riley. Doctor Riley herself looked to be in her late forties, and had the Eastern European body type. Despite her age she definitely looked like she took care of herself, but her eyes showed a lack of sleep but with that showed a dedication to the job as psychiatrist at Hill Crest Mental Hospital.
The doctor, who was also the messenger of my current plight, was sitting in front of me in a cushy office chair. Beside her sat a familiar face sitting on a folding wooden chair that was backward, her arms on top of the back of it while she sat staring at me chewing her gum very audibly. Her hair was pulled back and her almost pale face was a contrast to the dark colored lipstick she wore. After a couple seconds I realized this particular woman was the same person that alerted Doctor Riley when I finally woke up.
I don’t know whether it was her stare or something else but my eyes were fixated on her. Who was this woman and why was she here in a “therapy” session with Dr. Riley?
I just sat there having a staring contest with this with this woman, something which didn’t take Dr. Riley long to pick up on.
“I assume you are wondering about this lovely lady sitting to my right. This lady is Rose.” Rose gave a slight wave at the introduction. “She is a patient here, but she also has a degree in psychology so she comes here from time to time to help me out with patients. To most here she is like a sister and can communicate with them better than I could sometimes”
I just sat there staring at them. The news that Rose was a patient really didn’t elicit a reaction at all.
After a brief period of silence after the introduction Rose was actually the first one to speak up.
“Doctor Natasha, I’m not seeing it.” Rose said smacking her gum at the same time.
“Seeing what?” Dr. Riley asked keeping her eyes set upon me.
“That Mr. Nate is as dangerous as everyone says he is.”
Dr. Riley nodded. “I would agree with you on that Rose, but first let me ask Mr. Webb this; do you know why you are here exactly?”
I shook my head in the negative. I knew” the what” I was here for, no matter whether it was true or not. The realization that I was here was bad enough and frankly to be honest the circumstances of me being here was definitely the last thing on my mind.
“Well let me once again be the messenger that gets shot.” Dr. Riley said referencing her giving me the bad news of where I was at when I woke from the near coma I had found myself in. “As you know you were brutally attacked. Now, despite the evidence to the contrary, according to one Mr. Jake Conway the injuries you sustained were self-inflicted.”
I shook my head and snorted air out of my nose in disgust.
Dr. Riley of course continued on. “Of course Mr. Conway was also concerned about your well-being. So much though that he called his family psychiatrist who hearing your plight immediately recommended you transferred from the hospital from where you were lying unconscious to here.”
Upon hearing this I started to take the arm rests of my wheelchair in a death grip and bit my lip to the point where I tasted blood. To say my blood was boiling was an understatement. While apparently there was no proof to be certain, my intuition and all logic was telling the “caring” individual that the ace was had set me up simply to prove a point to Roberto Verona. Nothing more and nothing less.
“Oh I think Mr. Nate is angry.” Rose stated seeing my face turn red in anger.
“Yes I can see.” Dr. Riley responded with very little emotion.
I wanted to let my anger go in a compete outburst leaping out from my wheelchair despite the pain that I was in but I knew I had to keep my composure less I would dig myself an even deeper hole than I found myself in now.
Dr. Riley stared intently in my eyes. I was breathing heavily trying to keep what little bearing I had left.
“Now Nathan, I see you are upset.” Dr. Riley said. “I see that you feel like you don’t belong here and in some ways I would agree with you. You see this session wasn’t about therapy but about me getting a first impression of you. You didn’t even need to speak; you just needed to sit there as I looked into your eyes. And in the end do you know what I see?”
I stared at her blankly not saying a word.
“I see a man not dangerous…yet. I see a man that isn’t a danger to himself or the people he works with like others have said.” Dr. Riley got up and moved closer to me speaking a solemn voice. “I see a man who instead is lost. A man craving direction but not finding it. A man who wants to shed his past and move into the future. A man who can’t convey emotion effectively. A man who if he can’t control these facets will probably break down once again. You may not have the issues that others think you have but I want to help you break free of what holds you back…because you know what I believe in you.”
The room went silent once again. Dr. Riley and I fixated upon each other. Once again I was in a position I hated; helpless and at the whim of another person. I hated being forced against the wall like a caged animal. While I wanted to pounce I knew I had to keep my cool, if for anything else that to get my ass out of this place.
Doctor Riley would break the silence once again.
“Now Rose I believe it is pizza day this afternoon so if you wouldn’t mind escorting Mr. Webb here to chow.”
Rose jumped out of her chair elated by the news like a little kid hearing the news that she was getting candy clapping and making a mad dash toward my chair.
“Come on Mr. Nate.” She said in a joyful mood. “It’s lunch time. You’ll like lunch time here. Pizza day is the best here….”
Rose wheeled me down to the cafeteria. I was still in that mood where I could give less of a damn. It could have been spam or even hell a five course meal and I wouldn’t have been made a fuss in either direction. Frankly I didn’t care. Was I self-loathing? Sure but I didn’t see any other alternative.
Rose herself seemed to be in an eerily perky mood. Whether it was due to any medicine or the notion that this was home to her was beyond me. Despite her perky mood her outfit and makeup were not reflective of it. Her outfit looked like something out of Hot Topic with a pair of carpet dragging black jeans and a fitted Disturbed T-shirt which of course was coupled with her make-up made a complete contradiction with her personality.
As we made our way through the hallways Rose was suddenly approached by an individual carrying what appeared to be a hand crafted object. The individual was heavyset and obviously looked in a nervous wreck.
“Here…here you go Miss Ro..Ro..se,” the man said in a stammer. “I m…m…made this for you earlier.”
Rose stopped and took the object greatfully cupping her hands around both flower and the gentlemen’s hands. Upon further inspection it was a flower that was all black that along with it. “Thank You Mr. Jeffrey,” she said gleefully, “It’s a very beautiful flower.” Whether it was true or not Rose took the gift like it was a real and beautiful flower very graciously. Jeffrey seeing Rose’s response stepped to the side and walked away like he was nervous and scared.
“That is just Mr. Jeffrey,” Rose said trying to clarify Jeffrey’s actions and behavior. “He has schizophrenia and avoidant personality disorder. It used to be a chore to even get him around people and has made so much progress.”
To Rose it just wasn’t a gift but a matter of pride of seeing an almost family member grow and succeed. I took a heavy sigh. It’s not like I didn’t sympathize with these people but I also felt more and more with every moment that I didn’t belong.
Rose obviously was picking up on my mood because instead of taking me to the cafeteria she took me to the grounds outside. Slowly pushing along she took me to a quiet place along the side walk.
“Figured you could use some air Mr. Nate.” Rose said stepping to the side of me. The outside was the “yard” where the patients got their exercise time. In front of me was a grassy knoll that had a slight downhill decent leading to the wall lined with hedges. Beside the knoll there was a basketball court and a sidewalk to simply walk around.
I had to admit the fresh air was a relief. I closed my eyes breathing in the brisk air. The weather was chilly but felt good against my skin. It was that weather in the south where the winter was showing itself with the transition from October to November.
Rose stood there and I just sat there enjoying the semi-freedom I was provided. While I was still injured I wanted to jump up and run around but because I was still in a lot of pain I didn’t which only bummed me out a little more.
Rose seeing the now dejected look in my face wrinkled her face a little bit obviously not impressed, caring or sympathetic with my mood. So she went behind me and grabbed the handles of my wheel chair and moved me forward onto the grassy knoll. Without warning or even a word from her I felt a swift kick to the back of my wheel chair that sent me rolling, fast, down the hill.
It was a terrifying few seconds rolling with a wheelchair that I couldn’t control. I was at the whim again of not only myself but of some outside force. Finally after these few seconds of terror I hit the shrubs hard separating myself from the wheelchair. As I looked up I saw a couple of orderlies start running my way which were immediately waved off by Rose who was slowly approaching my downed position as I struggled to get myself back to my wheelchair which was a very painful ordeal.
After almost a minute Rose arrived at me as I was literally crawling back to my chair. There was an element of calm in her eyes that somehow unsettled me as she bent down and looked into my eyes in the quietest voice I have heard from her while keeping her usual upbeat tone.
“Mr. Nate, I know you are not like the rest of us. You are not nearly as bad off, and dangerous as Mr. Conway says, in fact you are the most adjusted person here. But really Mr. Nate your mood is quite a buzz kill to me.”
To be Continued….