Mental Disorder Chic

The table wobbled. Game parts and cards lay like carcasses across a puzzle piece landscape. Three in-patients snickered. One remained silent.

“I don’t know how you all can glorify illnesses,” the quiet one, Dre Doreen finally spoke up.

“Relax, women are attracted to exotic men. Mental health is a billion-dollar business. You can definitely cash in on the women’s interests with disorders. I’m OCD, ADHD, and PTSD. That’s an illness trifecta and the girls fall in love with it all,” Mahmud Abassi mentioned.

“I agree,” replied Thistle Bowlington. “I’ve got schizophrenia and women love a man that’s shizo in the bedroom.”

The puzzle pieces scattered to the floor. Doreen stood up.

“You have been messing with my girl,” Doreen accused.

“What are you talking about? That’s your bipolar talking. Have a seat,” Bowlington commanded.

“Like hell. Keep standing, Dre. You talk a bunch of nonsense. These illnesses aren't a sign of bragging. They're just chemical imbalances. Each of us had to get a diagnosis or diagnoses. Now, we’re stuck in this damn psych ward for whoever knows. I know one thing, I’m going to get a far check out of this. Y’all need to squash your beef and get a lawyer to get you this money,” Gibraltar Lively pronounced.

They looked at each other partly in astonishment and somewhat gleeful.

“You said what? Money? How?”

“We stay here at least thirty days, they’ve got to pay us one hundred percent.”

“Bullshit,” Doreen said.

“Now, why would I lie?”Lively asked.

The fourth was laughing. It was a big hug your tummy while you stretch back and hang your mouth open, kind of laugh.

“I’ve been here for six years.”

“Goddamn!” The other three said in harmony.

“You’ve got some pay coming your way!” Doreen exclaimed.

Bowlington leaned in lowered his voice.

“I’m about to calculate that.” he said. He journeyed to the nurse’s station and asked Haliya Benin to add up all the numbers

She produced a figure. and showed it to him.

“Oooh, this man is going to feel special,” he said to Haliyah.

“Thanks, Hal,” Bowlinton said. He returned to the table.

“You’re supposed to get one hundred six thousand, eight dollars.”

“Not ugh,” Abassi denied.

“Yes huh,” Doreen said. I did the figures in my head. That checks out to be about right.

“I’m going to have to rob you when you get out,” Abassi laughed.

“You won’t have to do that,” Doreen said. “You should be able to get a bit of money from compensation. That’s tax free, too. And it should be for the rest of your life,” Bowlington said.

“Should be?” Lively questioned.

“Yeah, they have boards every few years to check if you’re still crazy. That’s all that is,” Doreen.

“They sure don’t teach you that in active duty,” Abassi said.

“Why should they? They’re training to kill, not eat off the fat of the land. They’re all purpose from Boot Camp to your first duty station is to prepare you for combat, no matter the branch,” Doreen explained.

“Even our crazy selves can understand that, Dre. Sure they let us separate with our honorable discharges and then we’re cast to the wind. Get a job, go to CWT, become homeless, develop a drug or alcohol dependency, clean yourself up, go to school, get a degree and or license, get a job, excel,” Bowlingtom said.

“That’s usually the path that vets take. I’m not though. I’m going to take my six figures tax free and continue right on out of here,” Lively replied.

“The best thing is to pass this down to other veterans who don’t know how to get what they deserve,” Abassi said.

“That’s right,” said Doreen.