The clients

This place is demoralising but I know that a part of me manifested being here. I wanted to find out out how It feels like and which kind of characters I may run into and I got just that.

While I’m spending most of the time in my room because there is too much visual input, I do go into the common spaces twice or three times a day. Once in the morning when I am writing in my diary, twice when I’m going to the arts and craft department because I’m aware that being alone for too long doesn’t do me good and three sometimes with dinner.

I just had to laugh, because I was talking on the phone with my friend as I was outside and this big white guy, entitled prick started walking around me noticing the pretty girl in the ward and then he started doing push ups. But like right in front of me. I had to take my phone and leave. This guy, I don’t know his name and I’m also not curious to find it out is definitely the narcissist prototype. He finished his work out and he let the people at the reception that he is going for a rest. In other words that his work out is done and he is extra fit and better than them. I know, you think I might exaggerate with the interpretation. But no man, there’s something about him that gives me the creeps. Like how he stalks the girls working at the front desks, how he tries to make everyone believe that he is such a nice guy. I don’t know the reason why he is here, but I know that he is less of his three to himself than to others.

My favourite person here is Marcel. Last night after dinner he spotted me at the arts and crafts corner and he asked me to go and have a tea with him. “Sure”. Marcel looks like a Hell’s Angel who drives a chopper but he also looks like a character from a Pixar film. Marcel is a bit into conspiracy theories or had a lot of disappointments in life. He does not trust his friends on the other side and ow, right in the middle of his sentence he goes a little bit on the side and lift his legs up, says : “Yep, I gotta fart”. BOOM! Who would have thought that out of such a small body there could come so much air. He did that a couple of times and then thanked me for the conversation.

The thirst and the last type Is a Turkish guy. He is overweight and can barely walk. Has one of those stands with wheels to help him walk and on top of it he carries his coffee and his trabucco’s . This man has two modes: racist and nationalist or some sort of grateful one ( I'm not sure how genuine the second one is). When he is going thought mood number one, he plays his music from his phone without a care of someone might not want to listen to music. He tells everyone what language they must speak, Dutch! And that Turkey is the best.

The other day he asked me to help him understand how somethings on his phone works. It was sad because turns out that he was trying to get a hold of his daughter and brother but they’ve blocked him. He told me that he had some fights with his daughter because he couldn’t stand the fact that she was smoking American cigarettes. He also thanked me and when I suggested to maybe call them, he said that it’s too expensive.

All jokes aside, yesterday, I broke down in tears because I feel like my medication isn't working, and I've been here for ten days. The girls at the front office said, "But we don't really see you being depressed. Maybe you should let it show, stop trying to look so strong." I replied, "Yeah, but others seem to have bigger problems around here." They reassured me, "Don't compare yourself with others. You are doing all the right things, and if you aren't feeling well, we won't let you go. Don't worry." So, it sounds like I'll be here with Marcel and the others for a while longer.