ENTRY 12: ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST

Something’s happening to me, Dr. Nelson.

I know you’re dosing me with that Formula 35C shit now. I can feel it. Weird stuff’s been going on, not just with everybody else, but with me too. I don’t know if it’s the drug messing with my head or if I’m just losing it, but I don’t feel like my old self anymore. Two weeks ago all I could think about was rent, the Manzonis, and where my next cigarette or bet was coming from. Now I’m sitting here reading books like some kind of fucking scholar. That’s not me.

I’d be completely fucked if it wasn’t for Emily, Jeff, Lynette, Chuck, and Amanda. They’re the only reason I haven’t gone full Randy yet.

And reading. I don’t know what the hell’s gotten into me lately, but once I open a book I can’t put it down. After dinner tonight I blew through three hundred pages like it was nothing. That’s gotta be the drug, right?

It was One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. I saw the movie before, but the book fucked me up worse. That place wasn’t trying to help anybody. It was breaking people. Wearing them down until they either played along or got crushed. The doctors and nurses weren’t there to fix shit. They were just keeping the machine running. The longer you stayed, the smaller you got.

I keep thinking about that. How everything out there works the same way. Hospitals, prisons, jobs, the government. Play by their rules or get fucked. The second you start asking too many questions, they call you crazy and shut you down.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading too much into it. But it left a bad taste in my mouth.

What’s really eating at me right now is Randy. I don’t know what they did to him last night, but he came out this morning looking like they hollowed him out. He just sits there staring at nothing, half asleep. If you talk to him he either nods or gives you one-word answers. It’s fucking creepy.

We’re eight days in and only twelve of us are left. Chester’s gone. They kicked him out of the trial. At least that’s one less problem. I’ve made about twenty-four hundred bucks so far, but I couldn’t care less at this point. Money feels pointless to me right now.

After we got out of the testing room this morning, Dr. Nelson had us all come into the common room. He stood up front trying to look calm, but I could sense the old man was out of sorts. He kept rubbing his thumb against his palm like he was trying to settle his own nerves. Dr. Roberts stood off to the side with his arms crossed, staring at the floor.  Waters wasn’t even there.

Amanda was sitting next to Randy, gently patting his shoulder every so often. He didn’t react. Just kept staring at the table with those empty eyes.

Emily was standing next to me. She hadn’t said much since yesterday. The poor girl is still shook up and kept her arms wrapped around herself like she was cold.

Rudy sat happily on ole fart catcher and if I’m not mistaken the guys lost a little weight since we first got here. That second chin of his seems to have slimmed down and I can almost see his jawline starting to form.

“Alright,” Dr. Nelson said. “We’ve decided it would be good for morale if we got you all outside for a little while. We’re opening up the rear courtyard. Jackets, boots, and hot chocolate will be provided.”

Kyle let out a high-pitched cackle from the back, but it came out late, like it took his brain a second to catch up.

“The courtyard?” he said, slower than usual. “That’s it?”

Dr. Nelson nodded. “Yes. Just the courtyard.”

Kyle blinked hard a couple times. “So we’re still locked in here. Just in a different spot.”

“That’s correct.”

Lynette spoke up. “This because of what happened yesterday? You finally realizing this place is fucking people up?”

Dr. Nelson hesitated. “No. This was already planned. We just want everyone to get some fresh air.”

Walter suddenly spoke from the corner without looking up from his hands.

“Fresh air won’t fix what’s already been done,” he said with a little bit of an edge in his voice.

The room got still for a second.

Kyle shook his head, but it was slow and heavy. “Nope, it sure won’t. You broke Randy. Look at him.”

Randy slowly lifted his head at the sound of his name. His voice came out flat.

“Go on,” he said. “Get out there.”

Dr. Nelson cleared his throat. “Randy is going to be fine.”

Kyle repeated it in a mocking tone. “Randy is gonna be fine.” He stared at Dr. Nelson too long before blinking again like he lost his train of thought. “You people are unbelievable.”

Ben, who’d been sitting on the floor, raised his hand like we were in school. “Are we gonna go sledding?”

Dr. Nelson looked at him, clearly thrown off. “What?”

“Sledding,” Ben said again. “If we’re going outside we should go sledding. There were hills when we got here.”

“Ben,” Dr. Nelson said, his voice getting tighter, “we’re only going into the courtyard. There are no hills.”

Ben frowned. “Then what’s the point?”

Dr. Nelson didn’t answer. He just looked away.

I sat there watching all of it. Something felt wrong. Not just with us, but with them too. Dr. Nelson looked like he was barely holding it together. And Randy… Randy was gone. Whatever they did to him last night, it worked. I just hope he’s better tomorrow.

Dr. Nelson tried to wrap it up. “We’ll head out in about twenty minutes. Jackets and boots will be brought in for you.”

We all just looked at each other, dumbstruck.

We finally got outside after they handed out some cheap puffy jackets and boots that didn’t fit right. The second the heavy door opened and the cold air hit me, something shifted. I was flooded with memories of a whole different life. The one I’d left behind just 8 days ago. I started to feel a little uneasy.

I looked up at the sky and it was this flat, washed-out gray. The sun was trying to break through and cast this pale, sickly glow all across the atmosphere. The snow on the ground was fresh and untouched. At first the winter air felt good on my skin and refreshing to my lungs. But the longer I stood out there, the more everything started to feel uncomfortable.

I was lost in my thoughts, soaking it all in when I suddenly saw Ben running past me, spinning in circles and laughing like a little kid. His voice bounced off the brick walls and irritated the shit out of me. What the fuck is wrong this guy? All nervous and shy when we started and now he’s regressed into some kind of toddler. Gotta be the drugs.

Emily stood against the building with her hot chocolate, looking small and scared. I walked over after a minute.

“You okay?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I just want to go home.”

I didn’t know what to say, my head was all jammed up. Luckily Lynette and Jeff came over and started talking to her. I left them alone and started walking the edge of the courtyard.

At first I felt okay getting my own space. Then I didn’t.

My toes got numb and achy and the ground didn’t feel solid under my boots. My hands started to sting from the cold so I stuffed them into the pockets of the jacket and I started to shiver a little.

My body started to feel stiff so I stopped walking and leaned against the wall, trying to breathe. My chest felt tight. I told myself to relax, that I was just coldness and overthinking shit, but my body wasn’t listening.

Then it hit all at once.

My stomach dropped like I was falling. My hands started shaking inside my pockets. My legs started wobbling uncontrollably. Everything around me started to spin. The snow, the sky, the sound of my own breathing. I thought I was going to pass out. Then I thought I might actually drop dead right there in the courtyard. My heart was hammering so hard it hurt. I couldn’t catch my breath no matter how hard I tried. I kept telling myself to calm the fuck down, but the panic was too loud. It felt like I was losing control of my own body.

I was seconds from losing my shit...

And then Frank was standing right in front of me. So close I could see the lines on his face.

His eyes were clear and serious.

“It’ll pass,” he said.

His voice was low and steady. No emotion in it.

Before I could say anything, he turned and started walking back toward the door. By the time I blinked, he was already fifteen feet away, heading inside like he hadn’t said a word.

A few seconds later I heard footsteps behind me. Chuck and Amanda walked up.

“You alright?” Chuck asked. “You were just standing there looking like you were gonna fall over.”

Amanda nodded. “Jake?”

I didn’t answer right away. I was still staring at the door Frank had walked through.

By the time they brought us back inside, I felt normal again. Whatever the fuck that was outside had passed, just like that mysterious Asian said it would. I ate dinner without really tasting it, and I looked for Frank, but like usual he was locked in his dorm and I didn’t want to bother him. So I came back to my room and started reading.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

I can’t stop thinking about the McMurphy character. Guy gets himself thrown into the nuthouse on purpose so he doesn’t have to do hard time in prison. Thinks he’s beating the system. Thinks he’s smarter than everybody. But the place eats him alive anyway. He walks in thinking he’s playing a game, and by the end he’s got nothing left. Not even himself.

I sat there on the edge of my bed for a long time after that.

I realized… I’m fucking McMurphy.

If I’m honest with myself here… I know I could’ve done a few things different before I ever ended up here. I could’ve taken that warehouse job Aaron, the GA leader kept pushing instead of acting like I was too good for it.

I could’ve stopped gambling once I knew I was in over my head instead of doubling down trying to fix it.

I could’ve been straight with people about how bad things really were instead of lying every time they asked how I was doing.

Fuck, I could have been a man and got my mother the help she needs to quit drinking, but I didn’t. Because I’m an irresponsible coward and a shitty son.

These are all simple things. None of them would’ve fixed everything, but they would’ve kept me from ending up in this fucking place.

I think I’m starting to understand something right now. Everything that’s wrong with me, or my life, is my own fucking fault. It comes down to a lack of responsibility. At Gambler’s Anonymous they talked about being accountable, but then they’d turn around and call it a disease like we couldn’t help it. I bought into that for a while. Now I think it was just another excuse.

The dictionary defines responsibility as being accountable for your actions and for the things that are in your control. The less you own what’s yours to own, the smaller you get. I kept placing bets hoping one big win would fix everything, but I never took responsibility for stopping. I just kept digging deeper until I was trapped.

Some people take responsibility for everything in their life and they are happy and successful. They don’t spend all night at a casino pissing away their money when they should be paying bills.

Some people take just enough responsibility to get by, and they struggle a little, but they make it.

And then there’s dumb fucks like me, people who take very little or no responsibility at all. We blame everything on everybody else and we wind up in places like this. Or in prison. Or the nuthouse.

How irresponsible can a person get?

Dead.

That’s how far this can go if I don’t get my shit together.
​
— Jake

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