The Dirty Divorce Part 3 Read Online Free PDF Page B

with that no good ex-husband of mine had conspired with each other and gotten me committed into St. Elizabeth’s Mental Institution a month after Denie tried to take my life. How they’d come up with the conclusion that I was mentally disturbed was beyond me. I wasn’t crazy and I was tired of people treating me like a damn charity case.
    When I first arrived, I didn’t trip about it as much because I was still mourning Juan’s death and trying to get over my traumatic, near death experience, so my outbursts were a little out of control. On top of that, I was under the impression that I could sign myself out. However, after realizing that Rich, my mother or the doctor assigned to my case were the only ones able to sign my release papers, I became furious. The fact that Rich and my mother would play with my damn life like that had me enraged most of the time. Mental hospitals were made for sociopaths and schizophrenic motherfuckers who drooled all day. Not a distraught mother who’d just been through some tough times. I couldn’t even consider myself crazy after killing Carlie. Sure, I’d taken an innocent child’s life, but she was much better off being with my Heavenly Father than being raised by Rich.
    Despite my ill feeling toward her, I’d been trying to be nice to my mother and prove to her that nothing was wrong with me, but obviously that shit wasn’t working. I’d been in this fucking hell hole four months and it didn’t seem like I was getting out anytime soon.
    As thoughts continued to jump around in my head, I was finally interrupted by one of the nurses named, Betty. She was an older, black heavy-set woman with gray hair and massive breasts, who also had a sweet spirit. But no matter how nice she was to me, I just couldn’t allow myself to be kind to anyone in this Godforsaken place.
    “Well, hello Ms. Lisa. Why do you have it so dark in here? Let’s get you some sun,” Nurse Betty said, in a chipper mood as she opened the blinds.
    “Who the hell wants to look out of a window that has bars?” I responded irritated as hell.
    “Well, if you shed some light in this room it might make you feel better.”
    “Look, what do you want, lady?”
    “It’s time for you to take your meds and go visit with your psychiatrist.”
    It was at that moment, when I noticed the famous silver tray in her hand along with two cups.
    “Y’all are gonna stop treating me like I’m crazy!” I snapped.
    “Okay, Lisa let’s have a good day today. Come on, open up and take your medicine,” Nurse Betty said, as she handed me one cup that contained two pink pills and another cup filled with water.
    After being in the hospital for several weeks, I finally learned that I was being given several anti depressant pills called Paxil. I hated taking the pills since they normally gave me terrible headaches and sometimes insomnia, but I still complied because I didn’t want any trouble. If I was gonna get out of here, the mt important thing to learn was self control.
    Minutes later, Nurse Betty swapped her silver tray with a wheelchair and rolled it into my room.
    “Is the chair really necessary?” I asked. “I do have two legs if you hadn’t noticed.”
    “You should know by now that it’s standard procedure, Lisa,” Nurse Betty replied.
    I’m sure she thought I could be a complete bitch at times, but being an older nurse in this institution, I’m also sure she’d seen it all.
    As Nurse Betty wheeled me to the psychiatrist’s office, I was very uncomfortable watching the other patients. Eyeing most of their blank, delusional stares I had yet to get used to the atmosphere or the disgusting smell. Instead of a disinfected scent most hospitals were known for, this place had a sewage stench that made me want to throw up half the time. I couldn’t believe my own mother thought it was best for me to be here. Patients were talking to themselves, screaming at their imaginary friends, and one lady was banging her head