D Talks #13

So, I’ve been away from the Internet for over a week. How did this all start? Well, let me start with the survey I asked to fill out a couple of Tuesdays ago. I asked the teacher to fill out a quality of life survey, and somehow, even before I asked, he already knew that I wanted to. After asking, I was told the survey was scheduled to take place on Monday; it was a Friday. So on that Monday, I didn’t take it upon myself to ask about the survey, because it’s supposed to be scheduled, and once class ended, I figured I’d ask on Tuesday. Tuesday morning, my 0700 alarm doesn’t go off to remind me to send a text message to the teacher for our phone muster. This isn’t the first time my alarm doesn’t go off when it’s supposed to and I mentioned it once in a blog post. Cyberstalkers. Then I receive a text message from the teacher at 0704 asking me if I was alive. Strange. I reply and say my alarm didn’t go off for some reason. A couple of minutes pass, then I send a message asking if the survey was supposed to take place the day before. The teacher replies asking if I’ve used the “suggestion Box.” They did suggest the suggestion box on Friday, by the way. I replied saying “not yet.” Class started at 0800 and I didn’t wait to ask about the survey. I was given a sheet of paper which was the quality of life survey. There were a couple of items which were to be rated on a number scale and then an area to comment. One of the items asks if the rules and regulations are being followed, and since I read the CO’s statement on hazing, I rated that on the lower end of the number scale, since per the guidelines, I do feel as though I’m being hazed. The other item I commented on was the quality of the food, and that was also on the lower end of the number scale because, as I’ve mentioned on previous blog posts, I’ve found mold, among other things, in the cafeteria food. Do I feel like this was targeted? Yeah. Is the quality of the food actually good? Yeah. However, if anyone else encountered what I have, I would expect that they’d make a formal complaint of some sort. Does this also support my claim of hazing? Definitely. How do you mitigate or fix these kinds of issues? You employ the tools provided; such as surveys, formal complaints, the law, etc.

So those were basically the only two things I mentioned in the comments section of the survey. The teacher reviewed the survey and insincerely acted out a serious concern, since I had mentioned the cafeteria food, but not the hazing. We immediately had a meeting with people in charge, and I explained the hazing and harassment I was experiencing; much of it I’ve already mentioned on this blog. They suggested that I speak with a counselor or something about the hazing. I return to the classroom and continue with class. Towards the end of class, one of the people in charge called me out of the class, told me to grab my cover and leave my backpack. We walk out to the front of the building and I was told that we were waiting for a driver, strangely, and we have a brief casual conversation. After a couple of minutes of waiting in the lobby, he suggests waiting in the lobby and I ask if I can get my backpack. After grabbing my backpack, we wait in the lobby where I am being harassed by others; they wanted to hurt me, I guess to retaliate for complaining. After several minutes of waiting, I ask if we can reschedule the appointment so I could get lunch. I said “appointment” because I understood I was going to speak with a counselor of some kind, regarding the hazing, and I wasn’t eager to do so, but I was cooperating with their suggestion. After asking if I could get some lunch, he tells me the driver just arrived, and the teacher, almost immediately after, walks out from the hallway into the lobby, and we both walk out the building to meet the driver who was approaching the building. The three of us walk to the vehicle, the teacher walks across a parking lot island with grass to get to the seat behind the driver, so I walk to the front passenger seat. As I enter the vehicle, the driver aggressively whispers “leave.” This reminds me of when I was talking with an Army recruiter and I sat in the same seat in a similar vehicle; basically, as I’ve written, my parents and others interfered with my efforts to join the Army, which got to the point where I could have sued the Army, now there’s this effort for me to fail and quit the Navy. I started taking notes on my phone immediately after hearing the driver say “leave,” and then he whispered, “that hurts.”

So we drive and drive, and then we finally get to a hospital, which seemed kind of strange, but I figured that there are therapists at hospitals, and a couple of years ago, my doctor appointments were actually at a hospital with an ER and everything, so I didn’t think much of it. After parking, we walk up to the entrance and were asked for the reason for our visit to the ER. That’s when I realized we were actually at an ER; with the COVID detoured entrances, I couldn’t really tell. The teacher says in a low voice, “suicide.” Taken by surprise, I start laughing and say “Wait!? What!? Seriously!?” Then the teacher explains that he doesn’t actually think I’m suicidal, but to cover all the bases or something, that I guess they want to make sure I wasn’t suicidal. So you know how I mentioned that people around me were saying my uncle’s name? In addition to people saying my uncle’s name, people also say “please die,” among other things, which I mentioned when talking about the hazing. So I thought it was definitely a stretch and unreasonable to make sure I wasn’t suicidal, but since the teacher said they just wanted to make sure, I still cooperated because it would be no problem for me to convince a health professional that I’m not suicidal. I’m a little bit hyper at this point because of how weird things were turning out. So while waiting, I’m doing one arm pushups and other exercises. I was also blinded by my objective, which was to convince health professionals that I wasn’t suicidal, and didn’t reason that if these people really wanted to make sure I wasn’t suicidal, there’s a hotline you call; you don’t rush someone to the ER like that; but this reasoning wouldn’t occur to me until later. My name is called, and I speak with an intake nurse and answer a couple of questions. After returning to the lobby, the teacher goes and talks with this intake nurse; which is weird, but whatever, I have no privacy anyway. Then me, the teacher, and I think the driver, are taken to a mental health emergency room; just a bed, chair, and camera, and nothing else. Then the nurse asks me to undress and get into hospital attire, and I’m like “nah dude, what the heck.” Then the nurse tells me this is the clothing for the ER, and then I jokingly say “it’s a good thing I’ve been working out” or something, and they take all my belongings. So now I’m in this hospital gown in the room with the teacher, and I ask about lunch; the nurse says she’ll bring me a box lunch. So I’m kind of laughing every so often because this whole situation is ridiculous, and I start chatting with the teacher about random things. So I meet with doctors, three separate times and I explain to them about the hazing, harassment, cyberstalking, and I even mention my blog with voice recordings which will demonstrate the behaviors and will have a bunch more information. One of the doctors even starts being passive aggressive and starts saying things under his breath, and I call him out on it, and he denies it, and I’m like whatever its cool man, you’re free to express yourself. Honestly, I think people were just interested to meet me. After meeting with doctors three separate times and talking about a bunch of stuff, at the end of my third meeting with doctors, this doctor says that the team of doctors might still have some questions for me, but they may suggest to stay a couple of nights at the hospital; nothing conclusive. I said sure, if you have any more questions, please let me know, and staying the night at the hospital might be good for the stalkers who’ve kinda exposed themselves, watching me in my room.

So after waiting some more, I continue to talk with the teacher and we talk about a bunch of different stuff. He mentions how the hospital will most likely have the phone charger I need for my phone. Strange; I don’t believe him, he’s just trying to convince me to stay. Why? Not sure yet. I start to say that I would rather not stay because I don’t want to miss class; also because I don’t want to miss going to the gym, pool, and definitely don’t want to be away from the Internet. The teacher says that he was going to have to cancel class for the rest of the week anyway. Strange. I say ok, but thinking to myself, I decided I was not going to stay at the hospital. I was expecting doctors to return with more questions so they could determine whether I was suicidal or not, like during a consult; I’ve been to a consult before to determine whether alcohol abuse was an issue for me, and they determined in one sitting that alcohol abuse wasn’t an issue; now I’m a teetotaler. Next thing I know, there’s a guy with a wheelchair who shows up to take me upstairs. I was like, “Wait… do I have a choice?” Both the guy with the wheelchair and the teacher said “no,” not at the same time, but almost at the same time, one right after the other, which seemed strange to me, but I was like whatever, at worst I’ll leave the next day after meeting with the doctors.

So they take me upstairs, and I enter an area of the hospital which seems kind of like a penthouse-like area with really nice views, and I think… this is different. They tell me to change from the hospital gown to hospital pajamas, which were definitely too big; I wore smaller pajamas a couple of days later. I hear none of that hospital beeping or anything, and there’s a TV and bookcase with books, and a mini kitchen area, and a ping pong table. Then they take me to an office to sign some paperwork. One of the questions ask if I felt compelled to leave, and I said yes because I wasn’t sick, and I didn’t have my phone or access to the Internet, but I was there to cooperate and talk with doctors. I also agreed to meet with doctors before leaving the hospital. What bugged me was I didn’t like the way I was brought there; how did I go from filling out a quality of life survey to spending the night at the hospital. Something definitely wasn’t right. I was cooperating, but at the same time I felt like people were just having their way with me. Anyway, while I was filling out paperwork, they ask me if I wanted to eat dinner and I was brought some dinner.

To be continued…