Emerging Blogger Series: Noose Girl

The emerging blogger series is aimed at community building through giving mental health bloggers who are early in their blogging evolution the opportunity to have their work seen by a wider audience.  It’s also a way to introduce you as a reader to some newer members of our community.

This post is by Noose Girl at breathingwithanoose.com

ambulance

Ambulance Joy Ride

Entrance and intake processing is finally complete. Before the doctor moves me from the emergency room to the next phase of my visit, he bestows the knowledge that I may have bipolar disorder

Explaining that bipolar disorder exhibits extreme highs and low in one’s mood, he tells me he has arrived at this diagnosis because of my behavior. At this point, he has patiently tolerated hours of my excessively cheerful and inappropriate chatter, joking, and rambling . . . all while bandaging my freshly slit wrists.

But now it is time to leave the emergency room. My next destination in the hospital complex awaits. I am en route for my first stay in a hospital psychiatric ward. 

Remotely located apart from the psychiatric hospital, the mental health ward is almost 10 miles away. Hopped up in my manic state, I am thrilled to learn that my next leg of my journey through the mental health care system would involve a transport via ambulance as required by hospital protocol. How exciting!

Boarding the ambulance, I maintain my cheery attitude and amiable disposition. I instantly make friends with the ambulance driver, a young black man who looks to be in his early 30’s. High with mania and craving companionship and conversation, I convince him to disregard corporate code and allow me to ride along in the front passenger seat. My affable demeanor disarmed him, and he readily agreed, stating, “well, you aren’t acting like a ”convalescent.“ So I suppose it will be alright.” He shares a knowing smile with me. My enthusiastic mood was contagious and compelling. 

On the road, I learn that the driver’s lenient approach to hospital rules might have been due to his lack of experience. It turns out that today is his first day on the job. Today was his first transport to the behavioral health unit located off hospital grounds in an unfamiliar area. The unchartered roads, coupled with a confusing map, prove to be challenging to decipher, and he loses his way to our destination. Mobile phones did not exist in 1989, and his only recourse is to drive around aimlessly, searching for a phone booth. He spots a payphone at a grocery store and hurriedly pulls into the parking lot, jumps out, and approaches the phone.

And there I am . . . all alone in the passenger front seat. . . keys left in the ignition. My manic mind is an overpowering competitor against my ability to maintain reasonable and rational thought. My thoughts are swirling . . . my ideas are thrilling . . . the possibilities are irresistible. 

The temptation is too powerful. Without pause, I leap over the console into the driver’s seat, wrap my hand around the keys in the ignition, and give them a forceful turn. I throw the gear into drive. 

I head towards the exit and out of the parking lot. Finding myself congested traffic, I divert my attention between negotiating the road and a dizzying display of controls and gages. I begin scanning the colors and shapes of the dozens of switches and knobs set in the control panel. 

While I’m unsure of which button will do what function, there is no doubt in my mind what I want to find. I am on a mission. I want the magic switch that will deliver the celebratory lights, sirens, and horns that will transform the ambulance into the iconic and unmatched tool of rescue that I know it can be. I want to zoom down the street as the conductor in a private parade glowing in a spectacle of frenetic alarms and spotlights.

After a few minutes of flipping random switches in near-standstill traffic, I fail to launch my impromptu light and sound show. Losing interest, I decided that it might be a good idea to turn around. It was time to pick up my driver and relinquish the ambulance.

As the massive first response vehicle rolled into the parking lot, I see my driver standing by the payphone affixed to the wall. He is holding the phone cradle in one of his hands; his other hand braced against the wall. His hair is a mess as if he’d been pulling it. As I drive up, his face bears a look of pure terror mixed with confusion and a little bit of rage.

Still revelling from the pleasurable effects of full-blown mania, I try to make light of his unexpected complication. . . “hey, it was only a joke . . .oh come on, lighten up . . . see I brought it right back???” 

His former friendly disposition had disappeared. Instead of his relaxed and empathetic countenance, there is a look of absence — of nothingness. There is no grin, no comment, not even a growl. He stares at me with cold eyes and a grim mouth. 

Holding up a hand to stop me before I try to offer another apology, he walks me towards the back of the ambulance. His entire demeanor makes one thing very clear. He did not share in my delight of ambulance hijacking. He stoically motions me towards the back door, unlocks, and throws it open. Turning his head and looking off into the distance, his booming voice serves up an authoritative command. “Get in the back!” 

I climb in, sit down, settle in, and remain “in the back” for the rest of my transport. This time, there is no friendly, casual chit chat with my exasperated driver.

 

About the Author

Noose Girl is a mental illness blogger diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, including psychotic features. She regularly publishes short, insightful, and entertaining essays about what it is like to live with and recover from acute paranoid psychosis. Her bite-sized anecdotes range from the humorous to the tragic as she recalls and expresses her memories of madness through writing.

Noose Girl is a certified NAMI Connections group facilitator. She regularly speaks to government, nonprofit, and corporate organizations as a participant of the NAMI in the “In Our Own Voice” program. Currently, she is working on her certification as a social and political lobbyist to advocate for mental illness awareness through the NAMI Smarts for Advocacy program.

To receive alerts for new posts, subscribe via email at BreathingWithaNoose.com. You can follow her on Twitter for commentary and news covering mental illness awareness, treatment, and stigma elimination at @Noose_Girl.

 

Thanks so much Noose Girl for participating in the emerging blogger series!

You can find a listing of all of the posts in the series directory.

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Do you want to be the next emerging blogger?

Criteria:

  • personal blog focused primarily on mental health and illness
  • relatively new blogger, with WordPress following <100 preferred

Interested?  If you fit the criteria above:

  • email me at mentalhealthathome (at) gmail (dot) com
  • let me know the topic you’d like to write about and include your blog name/URL
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6 thoughts on “Emerging Blogger Series: Noose Girl

  1. mentalhealthfromtheotherside.wordpress.com says:

    I loved reading this article because I’ve been witness to many similar ‘
    bipolar adventures.’ Noose_girl made light of the situation, as many patients do, but I’m sure the ‘come down’ wasn’t great. We know that many patients with bipolar hate the mood stabilizer medication because they love the highs – who wouldn’t. All joking aside. Noose_girl writes eloquently and openly about her mental illness so it’s worth dropping by her blog..

  2. Meg says:

    Wow, yeah, I’ve been there. I have a blocked memory of doing something while manic that I think I’d be horrified about if I could remember all the way. I felt so sad for her, making the ambulance driver mad at her! That must have felt awful!

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