THE NUTHOUSE—Jerome Graham

THE NUTHOUSE—-Jerome Graham

                With decades of living a crime ridden life, succumbing to statistics; I’m sure it’s no surprise to anyone that I ended up at such an unfavorable institution, the state’s worst: Colorado State Penitentiary.

                Possessing a flair for words and writing, I’m aware of the term institution usually being referenced to a mental asylum but looking around I can’t vehemently contest that where I currently reside doesn’t simulate a place for the needy and sick. I can honestly say that throughout my twenty-five-year career as an “incarceration specialist”, I’ve never been around so many people who seek and thrive off of violence. Every time someone gets assaulted there’s long drawn-out applause, people cheering and celebrating that blood was shed. And Lord forbid that a staff member ends up on the receiving end of an attack, the pandemonium never seems to cease. It’s as if the victim isn’t considered human. As if he or she doesn’t have someone anxiously waiting on their return, whether it’s from an eight-hour shift or an eight-year sentence.

I guess this sounds strange coming from one of the asylum’s patients, but after being the recipient of a senseless crime myself, I see things differently. As I lay on the floor fighting off my attacker, I can clearly hear one of the spectators encourage the assailant to slide the weapon underneath his cell door so he can dispose of it for him. Dumbfounded, all I could think about at the precise moment was how my mother would feel, if she received a call that her only son had been murdered at the hands of another patient.

Pondering the situation further, I came to the conclusion that the majority of victims, if not all, must’ve shared similar feelings while they were being pummeled. I hate to say it, but for me, maybe being victimized was just what the doctor ordered. Maybe being stabbed four times was the proper dosage needed in helping with my transition back from a changed state of mind.

I’m convinced that if you witnessed a fraction of some of the things I’ve seen, you’d concede to my beliefs, that yes, this is a mental institution. Seriously, where else will people contemplate assiduously how to carry out egregious acts of violence. I witnessed a mad genius work on making a duplicate handcuff key for months, only to watch him and another patient escape from their shackles and viciously attack another unsuspecting patient.

Thankfully one of the orderlies had enough compassion to run in and save the victim as he sat chained to a table unable to defend himself. Unfortunately, the bravery of the orderly wasn’t celebrated. In fact, his courageous act was frowned upon by his superiors. Those in charge of the asylum would’ve much rather watched the target being stabbed to death, than for the orderly to save his life. Which makes me think, not only do we patients need help, but also those who are overseeing our actions. So not only am I seeking assistance for myself, but everyone around me on a day-to-day basis. We all need help here at The Nuthouse…..The End.

THE NUTHOUSE—-Jerome Graham

                With decades of living a crime ridden life, succumbing to statistics; I’m sure it’s no surprise to anyone that I ended up at such an unfavorable institution, the state’s worst: Colorado State Penitentiary.

                Possessing a flair for words and writing, I’m aware of the term institution usually being referenced to a mental asylum but looking around I can’t vehemently contest that where I currently reside doesn’t simulate a place for the needy and sick. I can honestly say that throughout my twenty-five-year career as an “incarceration specialist”, I’ve never been around so many people who seek and thrive off of violence. Every time someone gets assaulted there’s long drawn-out applause, people cheering and celebrating that blood was shed. And Lord forbid that a staff member ends up on the receiving end of an attack, the pandemonium never seems to cease. It’s as if the victim isn’t considered human. As if he or she doesn’t have someone anxiously waiting on their return, whether it’s from an eight-hour shift or an eight-year sentence.

I guess this sounds strange coming from one of the asylum’s patients, but after being the recipient of a senseless crime myself, I see things differently. As I lay on the floor fighting off my attacker, I can clearly hear one of the spectators encourage the assailant to slide the weapon underneath his cell door so he can dispose of it for him. Dumbfounded, all I could think about at the precise moment was how my mother would feel, if she received a call that her only son had been murdered at the hands of another patient.

Pondering the situation further, I came to the conclusion that the majority of victims, if not all, must’ve shared similar feelings while they were being pummeled. I hate to say it, but for me, maybe being victimized was just what the doctor ordered. Maybe being stabbed four times was the proper dosage needed in helping with my transition back from a changed state of mind.

I’m convinced that if you witnessed a fraction of some of the things I’ve seen, you’d concede to my beliefs, that yes, this is a mental institution. Seriously, where else will people contemplate assiduously how to carry out egregious acts of violence. I witnessed a mad genius work on making a duplicate handcuff key for months, only to watch him and another patient escape from their shackles and viciously attack another unsuspecting patient.

Thankfully one of the orderlies had enough compassion to run in and save the victim as he sat chained to a table unable to defend himself. Unfortunately, the bravery of the orderly wasn’t celebrated. In fact, his courageous act was frowned upon by his superiors. Those in charge of the asylum would’ve much rather watched the target being stabbed to death, than for the orderly to save his life. Which makes me think, not only do we patients need help, but also those who are overseeing our actions. So not only am I seeking assistance for myself, but everyone around me on a day-to-day basis. We all need help here at The Nuthouse…..The End.