Randoms...

1.) Charming fellow, quite easily manipulates those around him to fulfill basic wishes, even if they go above and beyond basic prison allowances. Such a feat is not extraordinary. It is, in fact, aligned with what is to be expected from Subject X. He is a charming and seductive fellow and it is for this reason he should be quarantined from general population.

2.) Sexual fantasy, of course. Bound, gagged with a firm hand pressed against the windpipe. Choking, eyes bulging, feeling the vagina muscles spasming or perhaps the warm gush of urine as she slips out of consciousness. Love, right? It's love, isn't it? They all said yes. Every single one of them. When I got to the point where their life hangs on a thread, they loved me. They would do anything for me. And yes, that's what happened with my mother. But forget her. Those girls loved me. I figured out how to make that happen.

3.) There's a mouse in the shelter. I saw it last night while my sister slept and although I wondered whether or not to kill it initially, I now have to be realistic about it. Realistically, the world is destroyed. Realistically, a mouse can be a pet. Realistically, not much food is needed and realistically, I have nowhere to put a dead mouse body. I don't want to smell it. Not ever.

4.) Traveling around, visiting new places. Of course that's fun. It's exciting. But it's always comfortable, always nice when you come home to a place where you know the sights, the sounds. aybe the smell. Familiar faces. The smile when you pull a seat up at the bar - not a smile just because you're a patron but a smile because of who YOU are, your history in the place. A smile because the bartender knows you're going to be respectful and polite and leave a decent tip. That's the smile I'm talking about. Yeah, it makes coming home that much sweeter. It makes life itself seem just a bit more clear and understandable.

5.) So 40 is just around the block. I have but 1 more year to reflect upon the past and prepare for life on the other side of the hump. Maybe I should start a blog and market it as best I'm able through BB.com and especially the Misc. Important piece though is to make sure to mention fairly often that I have pieces of the blog / my life and reflections set aside as private. If it takes off, that could work in my favor regarding leverage with an attempt to publish. Humor may not be my thing. I should explore all avenues. It's not really fair to pigeon-hole myself before I've had a chance to really test the water. This is a chance, a true chance to challenge and possibly redefine myself. Mark Dirschel does not have to be a horror / thriller writer just because he always has been or rather just because he's always defined himself as such. There's a whole world open to that aspect of my writing with being a husband, a father, a psych nurse at MGH, etc. as well as being fairly well-versed at life online. I've got enough of a vague following to actually try what I just outlined and see where it takes me.

6.) I remember several instances of violence in the beginning of my career - stuff that essentially helped to define the field I was getting into, had gotten into and planned to continue working in.

Two I remember:

a.) Drunken mother-fucker who was throwing a wheelchair on the entrance ramp at Mountainside Hospital. I went out to deal with him and was confronted by a leather jacket wearing fool who chanted over and over, "I'm too strong!". He'd almost hit an old woman with the wheelchair he threw so taunted him until he came at me and when he did, I took him down hard at the ER entrance. He managed to get a handful of my hair and tore it out, something I didn't realize until later, whikle I held him on the floor and he struggled to get up. Luckily for me, since security at the time had no way of helping - it consisted of a single, 70 + year old man - someone had the wherewithal to call the police. The cop who responded was named Shawn and I vividly remember seeing the sliding doors open, Shawn coming through the doors, going airborn and landing on the kid with a knee to the back while I held him down - with difficulty. The kid was strong but I was stronger. When Shawn hit him, though it took the fight right out of him and he went limp. Later that night, he was put into leather restraints and wound up pissing all over himself. We let him walk home that way basically because he was such a fuckin' dick.

b.) Dude who'd been walking for God knows how long, seen in the ER by me and the psychiatrist and ultimately admitted to the unit with all his angry bullshit and tough talk. The unit would have been 2B, the place I got my first job ever in psychiatry. The nurse that night was a woman, a regular and I think she might have been the only person on the unit when I brought him up with a security officer. She was Korean, a mom in her 40's, hot as hell with huge tits which was odd for a Korean but whatever. I liked her. She was fun and kind and always polite.

When we got to the floor, we set him up in the quite room because of his anger. He wouldn't let it go and I could see that the nurse was a bit nervous knowing the security guard and I would be leaving soon and she'd be alone with him and the rest of the patients. At one point, he said he had to use the bathroom and into the quiet room bathroom he went. that's when he completely lost his shit and started pounding on the metal sink, yelling and cursing. It was on right then. I grabbed hold of him, yanked him off the toilet and slammed him against the wall across from the toilet, twisting his arm behind his back and pinning him. I told him point blank, "I don't give a fuck how pissed off you are and I don't really care why. You better pull it together. Now. In a moment, I'm going to let you go and that nurse here, her name is -----, she will be the person taking care of you. She's a female and I care about her. She's much more sympathetic to people than I am and she will not want to put you in restraints. Are you listening?"

He nodded yes without any sign whatsoever of the anger and rage he'd displayed throughout the night. I had his attention, which was good. We needed to establish where the line was.

"If I have to come up here again for a problem you crate, I pomise you this - I will slam you onto the bed, strap you down and make sure the doctor orders needles to put you out. Do not fuck with -----. Don't you dare."

I let him go and he sat on the toilet to finish his business. The fight was out of him, it was over.

Security leaned over to me at that point and whispered that the guy had pissed on my boot.

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Reflections:

1, 2 and 3 were errant ideas for scenes that popped into my head.

4 was most likely a reflection upon the Peking Garden in Foxboro, where Al the bartender always made me feel right at home eery time I walked in.

5 is fucked up. I don't know how I drove home that night. What the hell was I thinking? Really.

And 6 were 2 episodes of early psych work at Mountainside. The fun, the fun.