How did I get to the point where sitting in the day-room watching mice fight over food was not frightening? I have no idea.
If I would have written a letter to the newspaper telling them of all the rodents would I have been believed? Most likely it would have been tossed in the trash with the thought that it was written by a lunatic and couldn't possibly be true. I think that is how the institutions got away with so much. People think if your ill you don't know what your saying. That is why there were mice in the day-room, and mold in the food.
Nobody hears you when your mentally ill and they don't want to see you if they can help it.
I came to enjoy those little mice, running all around me. I envied their freedom to escape anytime they desired. To go outside and feel the sun on their furry little faces. They, unlike so many, did not want to harm me. They were just trying to survive.
The rats however.. scared the shit out of me.