I suppose I have been here one week. I admit, I find it hard to keep track of time.
I have started to gain the trust of a few patients. Some seem to be beyond help, but others seem perfectly rational. One woman, Ruth, perhaps in her mid-40s, has been in the bed to my left since I arrived. She tells me she has been here several months – she, too, has lost track. I present here our latest conversation, as faithfully as I can reprint it from memory. I very much want to learn about these women – what brought them here and what keeps them here.
Sybil: I hope you do not mind me saying this – but you seem very calm and collected.
Ruth: You mean sane? That’s what I’ve been telling these people for months. That’s what I told my family, too, before they brought me here.
Sybil: It was them who brought you? Did you not consent?
Ruth: Are you kidding me? They dragged me kicking and screaming. And I mean it – really dragged me. Put these big chains over my hands and around my waist and threw me in the back of a truck.
Ruth: Didn’t they do the same to you?
Sybil: Well, no. I checked myself in, on the advice of my husband. I have not been well.
Ruth: Then this is the last place you should be!
Sybil: When will you be released? Is your family still in contact with you?
Ruth: I think my brother feels guilty about what they did to me. So he comes by once every few weeks, looking sheepish. He tells me I’ll be out soon, doesn’t give me any more details than that. Soon, soon.
Sybil: But was there an incident that made them bring you here? Did something happen?
Ruth: Here’s the thing. They tell me something happened, but they’re lying through their teeth. I can remember perfectly well what happened. They say I was violent and aggressive. Meanwhile all I did was announce that I was leaving Bill – he’s my husband. That put mother over the edge. She doesn’t believe in divorce, thinks it’s sinful. Before I knew it, she had rounded up the whole family with stories about me being off my rocker, told them I had set my bed on fire. All nonsense!
Sybil: So she would rather you be in here than be a divorcee?
Ruth: That’s the plainest way to say it. Yes. Or she thinks being in here will knock some sense into me.
Sybil: Can’t you tell the nurses the truth?
Ruth: That’s the funny thing. Once you’re in here, everything you say is automatically insane. I could say the sky is blue and they wouldn’t believe me because I’m a nutcase.
Sybil: I’m sorry to hear that.
Ruth: Maybe I should just tell them, “It’s all true, I’m a lunatic.” They’d probably take that to mean that I’m of sound mind. That’s just how they operate here.
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