Define Crazy…

It wasn’t even 48 hours and he was crazy enough to suggest we get him out of the nuthouse even though he was under the mandatory 30 day stay at “Chateau” Abbie J Lane.

“I need you to come to the house” his girlfriend and future wife said, “something isn’t right with your brother”.  I rushed to their place, he was talking in a way that any “normal” person wouldn’t understand but secretly I understood him.  I was scared, I understood him…he was crazy and I thought I might be too.  After a lengthy conversation with my brother under his new mental state, I tricked him into going to the hospital…once he realized I “tricked” him into going to the hospital to get help he was pretty pissed off. They checked him into the Abbie Lane or as we call it, the nut house…that night in the padded room changed his life.

Back in the day we could get 50 bucks for checking someone into the nut house, when I asked the receptionist when I was getting my 50 bucks she just looked at me puzzled…apparently this wasn’t a thing anymore…pfffft the nerve of her to look at me all judgmental and shit. If you’re from where I’m from “they” use to say…”check him in you’ll get 50 bucks and maybe a toaster”. Now come to think of it…maybe it was just a joke old people would say about the crazy people around town.  Anyhoo, no toaster and no 50 bucks was given to me. 

The place was depressing and let me fuckin tell you, there are some very unique individuals in that place.  As much as the guy with the tin cup tied to his belt loop who played music with a spoon and his tin cup was entertaining, my brother had not reached this level of “crazy”…he was pretty fucking close I can tell you that but only because he had lost control of it all mentally for just a brief moment in time.  After they had broken the ping pong table in the lounge…that put a damper on “fun” things to do in the crazy house.  After day 2 he said “you need to get me the fuck out of here or I’m really going to go crazy” I thought to myself, this motherfucker thinks he’s locked up for being “normal”, ooooook…Yep he was crazy…but truthfully speaking he had to get out of there before he adapted to his new surroundings…he was already trying to get in the band with his new “friend”…It was time to get him out.

We sat in the TV room and came up with a plan, every good escape plan takes a genius and a mastermind and low and behold there were two of us.  On day 3 we were meeting with the psychiatrist, she was going to evaluate him and decide how much time he would spend in the nut house. Our plan, it was simple…he had to convince the doctor that he wasn’t crazy. The problem with the plan was that he didn’t want to shut the fuck up and he sounded completely crazy to the average person…he was still a bit crazy since he was pretending to take the prescribed meds they were feeding him….she would most likely keep him for the full 30 days.  We thought of everything she could possibly ask and we rehearsed “sane” answers.  I mean after all we were pretty brilliant people.

Since he wasn’t able to determine on his own that he was still a bit crazy I was a bit worried about his rambling so told him I would press my foot on top of his, when I pushed down that meant to shut the hell up. Nobody had ever gotten out before the 30 days were up…at least that was what the receptionist told us.  The time had come and to be completely honest with you, he needed help but not in those surroundings. 

We walked into the doctors office totally convinced we were going to outwit the psychiatrist…were we both crazy, hell yeah…I mean we had practiced for hours…I started with…”I know you think he’s crazy but he’s not, yes he had a breakdown and yes we agree he needs counselling and definitely meds but there is no way in hell he should be in here.” I was thinking please don’t ask him any questions I knew he would ramble on sounding a bit crazier than he needed to sound to get out, but of course she begins with her psychiatric assessment.  I was so fucking scared, please don’t say anything that she is going to think is crazy, was all I could think. He talked a lot but I was quite impressed. I had my foot on his foot,  remember we agreed if he started to sound crazy I’d press down on his foot and he’d shut the hell up…he limped out of the office that day…we calmly walked back to his room, looked at each other and grinned..we packed his stuff up and he was set free… As we exited the building, we turned around and gave them the middle finger…nobody saw us but it made us feel “cool” to do it.  We clearly were the most brilliant people on earth and that was the shortest stay in the history of the mandatory 30 day stay at Chateau Abbie Lane

Never underestimate a crazy person and definitely don’t underestimate 2 on a mission~ Holla