N. bringing me prized possessions at cursed Unity Center for Behavioral Health (doesn't the name alone tell you a lot??) Multiple glasses options to distort your reality, and an iPhone that I had to hide.
also pictured: an enemy of mine trying to get N. to bring her some makeup and glasses too. also pictured: a dear friend P. who I am so glad to have met and, like N. and the friends and family who visited, made that two weeks more bearable. also pictured: another person stuck there, looking miserable.
love to my friends who visited or somehow got through on the phone! the littlest things were so special like my sister bringing halloween candy although anything kinda had to be shared or everything would get really chaotic. like someone got a pizza and only shared it with a few other people and there was pretty much a mutiny involving a chair being threatened to be broken through the cursed window.
I forgot the most important thing N. brought: gender-affirming clothes so I wasn't just in scrubs or whatever I came in with. that's what's in the bag I'm reaching for in the painting.
a lot of psych wards make it difficult or impossible to have visitors. this was an exceptional situation, so it certainly does not picture a typical psych ward experience. just a heavily medicated memory distorted by water and ink.
thanks to all who visited the many times I was force hospitalized, except the cousin who tried to convert me to christianity: that was fucked up.