Post by Nick Knight on Jul 10, 2020 12:00:40 GMT
Monday 6:35 AM
"It's time to wake up Mr. Knight," a strange voice said. Nick opened his eyes and looked up into the eyes of an angel.
"You're beautiful," he said, a stupid grin on his face.
"It's just the drugs talking Mr. Knight," she replied, chuckling. "It's time for breakfast."
"Is the food worth a shit in this place?" Nick groaned when his barefoot hit the cold floor. His spine sounding like a bowl of Rice Krispies as he slowly stands.
"It's hospital food, what do you think?"
"Shit, I was afraid you'd say that. Rubber eggs, burnt sausage, and hockey puck pancakes?
"Waffles today. They're worse than the pancakes." She tosses a pair of rubber ducky yellow grippy socks on the bed next to him. "Put those on so you don't fall on your ass. Hospital fired the last nurse that got it sued. I just bought a new house and need to keep my job."
The nurse was right, the food was terrible, although it was better than some of the shit they called food on Gator Island. During the weekend to keep down cost they would be fed nothing but prison loaf. A combination of god only knows what all mixed together and baked. Most of the time Nick just gave his to fat Leon in exchange for a little bit of the pruno he always seemed to be making. Leon was resourceful as hell for a baby killer.
After breakfast came Nick’s least favorite part of being in the nut house, group. Growing up in the projects showing your sensitive side got your ass beat and your shoes stolen then thrown over a powerline. The testosterone filled professional wrestling locker rooms were just as bad, if not worse. So getting all touchy feely and talking about his feelings came hard to Nick. Listening to people bitch about theirs was harder.
Luckily there were only three other people locked up with him. A pudgy kid with a baby face that was barely able to vote, a girl about the same age wearing glasses so thick her eyes filled the lenses, and a sexy blonde that fifteen years ago Nick would have tried to fuck in a broom closet. Now he just sat and listened to her whine about her asshole boyfriend.
"...last week he brought a knife to bed. He said it would add a bit of danger to our sex life. So I used that same knife to slit my wrist when I thought he was fucking my sister. He's not, he was just fixing the plumbing in her trailer. Laying some new pipe."
"Stop," Knight screamed. "Maybe he is a nice guy and helping your sister out, but I doubt it. He's a piece of shit and pieces of shit only help people out if it helps them out more. He was at your sister's laying pipe? Yeah, that means he was fucking her. My advice honey is to run far and run fast. I mean, who in their right fucking mind uses a knife in bed."
"Nick you don't have the talking stick," the touchy feely therapist scolds.
"Fuck that stick. This girl needs to hear some hard truth. Sweetheart you're gorgeous and you seem to be a caring person, maybe a little too much. You are so much better than that guy. Let your sister have him."
"You really think so?" A tear ran down her cheek and Nick had to fight the urge to give her a hug.
Knight gave her a big smile, ignoring the pain coming from his cut up face. "I do."
"Thank you," She returned his smile. "You're very kind for saying so."
Nick seriously needed a cold shower. She was exactly the kind of rat he'd take back to the Days Inn after a show, vulnerable and a little fucked in the head. Sometimes he would steal them away from their boyfriends for the night and then send them back to their trailer park or cheap apartment in the morning. Hell some guys got off on the fact that their girl was spending the night with someone sort of famous. He didn’t want to even want to think about going back to that point in his life.
The pudgy kid went next and Nick had a hard time staying focused. He did pick up pretty quick that the kid had been picked on his whole life and it had fucked him up really bad. Knight had no problem understanding why a kid that beaten down would end up in the psyche ward.
"What's your name kid," Nick asked.
"Gary, sir."
"Please call me Nick. Gary people have been using you to make themselves feel better this whole time. They are insecure and the only way for them to feel good is to make you feel worse. People are fucked up like that, but you seem like an alright kid."
"But I'm fat, and stupid, and...and a weirdo."
"Gary, some of the best people I know are weird. It's not going to be easy, but you can lose weight. Given that copy of Atlas Shrugged next to you, I also think it's safe to say you're far from stupid."
“I’ve tried to lose weight and I just can’t do it,” the kid whined.
“I’ll tell you what Gary, I’ll give you some help. I can teach you some easy exercising that you can do anywhere, even in here. You’ll be sore as sit for a few days, but you’ll start getting in shape quick.”
“Really? You’ld do that,” Gary asked.
“Sure, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to kill.”
The girl with the glasses went third and Knight could see a kindred spirit in her. She was locked up because she snapped and beat the shit out of a waiter for fucking up her order. She wasn't some wilting violet, she had the monster inside. Nick could respect anyone that was fighting the monster.
"So why are you here Mr. Knight," the therapist asked.
"We could be here all day if I told the whole story. The quick and dirty version is that I went off my meds to take care of something and I'm getting back on them."
"Why did you stop taking your meds," she asked.
"It was a job thing."
"Do you think that it's healthy to have a job that makes you stop taking your meds?"
"There's very little about my job that is healthy. People in my line of work die young and are fucked up physically. Some days I can barely get out of bed."
"What kind of job do you have," Gary asks.
"I'm a professional wrestler."
"The guys in their underwear that pretend to…" Knight snapped before the young man could finish his sentence. The wooden chair he was sitting in flew across the room and shattered against the wall. Two giant orderlies ran into the room and tackled Nick to the floor, while the nurse injected a tranquilizer into his arm.
5:07 PM
"You awake Mr. Knight," a deep voice asks.
Nick snaps open his eyes and looks around the room. "Where the fuck am
"You're in the hospital. Don't you remember?"
“I can’t remember a fucking thing.” Knight moves his arm and finds that he is strapped down to his bed. "Why the fuck am I strapped down?"
"You attacked another patient. You seriously don't remember that?"
"The last thing I remember was powerbombing that big fucker through the flaming table. Everything after that is kind of a blur."
"It's from the sedatives it will all come back to you.”
“I’ve had a lot of experience with that shit. Sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn’t,” Nick replies.
“You slept through lunch, are you hungry?”
"Is the food worth a shit here?"
"I've had worse in jail."
"I could eat. What's on the menu?"
"Dry hamburger on stale bun, soggy French fries, over cooked canned corn, and chocolate pudding."
"I definitely ate worse when I was locked up. Grab me a tray I guess."
The orderly left and came back a moment later with a sad looking tray of food. "You promise to behave if I unstrap you?"
"I didn’t know that I miss behaved, so I can't promise, but I'll do my best," Nick answers.
"Fair enough," the orderly unbuckles the soft restraints and slid the table over Knight's hospital bed. "Eat up. The doc will be in to see you in a few."
True to his word the food was atrocious and just as he was choking down the last bite Dr. Riley Griffith and a short balding man in horn rimmed glasses walked into the room.
"You look like shit," Griffith says.
"It's not just a look," Nick replies, with a smile.
"Nick this is Dr. Robert Martin. He's the head of the psychiatry department here at Greensboro Methodist. Since I don't work for the hospital, he's supervising your care. I will be around to give him my input and we'll be in contact with Dr. Goode."
"Nice to meet you doc." Nick extends his hand, but Martin keeps his distance.
"I hope you won't be offended if I don't shake your hand," Martin says in a quiet voice.
"Not at all." Nick could see fear in his eyes. It was probably a healthy decision on the doctors part, but something about it made Nick feel like hot garbage.
"I guess to start, why the fuck would you stop taking your meds," Griffith asks.
"I needed to set the monster free, and please don't give me that rationalizing bullshit."
"What do you mean by monster," Martin asks.
"I'm assuming you've at least seen the Reader's Digest version of my chart." The doctor nods. "The monster is that thing inside of me that makes me violent. I fucking hate it and what it does to me, but for one night I needed it."
"Why on earth would you need to be violent?"
"You see my face?"
"It's a little hard to miss. You look like you lost a fight with a wood chipper."
"You should see the other guy."
Dr. Griffith laughs, earning him a dirty look from his colleague. "I don't know how you can think that's funny?"
"It's funny because I saw the other guy,” Griffith answers.
"I guess let me try to explain. Are you a wrestling fan," Nick asks Dr. Martin.
“I was when I was a kid. My dad used to take me to the Coliseum almost every Sunday night, and of course on Thanksgiving. I honestly haven’t watched wrestling in years, so I would have to say that no I am not.”
“Well you know enough for me to try to explain myself. Imagine a guy the size of the Road Warriors with the mindset of a serial killer. That was the guy I faced last night in a match that when you were a fan would have been called ‘no holds barred.’”
“What does that have to do with you taking your meds,” Martin asked, still confused.
“I don’t think that way anymore. I’m not a violent man by nature and my temper no longer has that hair trigger. I am just trying to be a good professional wrestler and a great father. If I was going to have a snowballs chance in hell against that big bastard I had to be the person I was before. I had to unleash my inner monster to defeat a monster.”
“Do you know why you are here Mr.Knight,” Martin asks, pulling up a stool and sitting down.
“Please call me Nick. I’m here because I want to get back on my meds and move on with my life. Since I almost got arrested for destroying a really expensive hotel room coming off of them, I figured I needed a little help.”
“Nick that’s not why you’re here,” Dr. Griffith says. “After the show you were found weeping uncontrollably. We had to bring you here by ambulance and sedate you to put you to sleep.”
“Wait, what?”
“I don’t know what happened, but you had some sort of a breakdown,” Griffith explains.
“I didn’t come here on my own?”
“No,” Dr. Martin says. “You have been committed for observation and will not be released until I feel you are not a danger to yourself or others. Now Miss Hancock said that you were more or less cooperating in group this morning, until you had your little fit.”
“Doc I’ve got no reason not to cooperate. Like I said, I just want to get back on my meds and get on with my life.”
“Please don’t call me Doc, Mr. Knight. I will have a nurse bring your evening meds down. I expect you to be cooperative in group tomorrow and please don’t attack the other patients. I would hate to have to send you to a more secure facility.”
Dr. Martin turned on his heels and walked out of the room living Dr. Griffith alone with Nick. “He’s a candidate for Ms. Congeniality,” Nick say, making the doctor laugh.
“He’s an acquired taste. I haven’t quite acquired it, but he’s the only guy that can let you out of this place. So you need to play nice with him and act like a good boy if you want to make it to Corpus Chrisi for Sacrifice.”
“How bad was I when you found me?”
“Nick it was pretty bad. You were sobbing and no one could get you to stop, or even talk to them. I tried all the way to the hospital, but you just cried. Any idea what triggered it?” Knight just shook his head. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Knight sits up on the edge and strokes his long beard, thinking. A habit he had picked up ever since he started growing the thing. “I’m pretty sure I called Penny to let her know that I was alright. That’s the last thing I remember until waking up this morning.”
“Do you think that’s what did it?”
Knight lets out a long sigh and shakes his head. “I...I don’t know for sure. I can’t remember what we talked about, but I know she’s pissed at me. I just hope I didn’t fucking things up between us.”
“Well play the game and get your ass out of here. Then you can go back to trying to fix things with Penny. I’ll give Dr. Goode a call and be back to see you when I can.”
“Good night Doc.”
Dr. Griffith walked out leaving Nick alone with his broken thoughts.
Tuesday 6:15 AM
Nick choked down breakfast and took his pills with his plastic cup of OJ. Having met most of the other patients the day before he chatted with them, getting to know them better. Gary the guy he tried to attack the day before was nowhere to be seen, and when he finally asked he was told that he had been transferred to a long term facility. Nick felt terrible that he would not be able to apologize to the kid, because he sure he scared him shitless.
When breakfast was over it was once again time for group. Today instead of just bitching about what was wrong with their lives they played a game. A person would throw a small rubber ball with words written on it to another patient. Which ever word their right hand landed on when they caught the ball they had to talk about something that made them feel that emotion. Nicks went first and the word he got was anger.
“This is a really tough one for me, because right now a lot of things are making me feel angry. Mostly I feel angry at myself because I keep hurting the people that I love. I don’t want to hurt them, but sometimes I just can’t help it.”
“What have you done to hurt a loved one lately,” Miss Hancock asks.
“I ended up here,” Nick answers.
“I don’t think you trying to get better hurts anyone,” she replies.
“It does when it was my choice to go off my meds. I chose to make myself crazy, and that hurt the people I care for the most.”
The other patients took a turn and when it got back to Nick he got happy.
“There’s a lot going on right now that makes me happy, but the thing that makes me the happiest is hanging out with my kid. I lost nearly three years of his life because of stupid shit that I did and it’s fucking awesome to just spend time with him.”
Everyone went again and the last time around Nick landed on love.
“This is a hard one for me right. Obviously I love my kid to death, but I think I’m still in love with my ex-wife. We hang out together quite bit doing things with the kid and I definitely still have feelings for her. I honestly don’t know how she feels and I’m so fucking afraid of being rejected that I don’t do anything about my feelings.”
“Fear of rejection is perfectly normal,” the counselor says. “However it’s really unhealthy to hold in how you feel about someone. If you love her tell her that you love her, even if it ends up being just platonic.”
“I do love her, but I don’t think I want to just be platonic. I just think that that ship might have sailed, and that breaks my heart. God I fucked up.”
“How do you know if you don’t try,” she asks.
“I just do!” Nick stands up and throws the ball hard against the wall and storms off to his room. Slamming the door he crawls into his bed and curls up in the fetal position. Tears stream down his face and he sobs uncontrollably.
4:45 PM
Nick is sitting in the common room trying to fight off sleep as a Golden Girls rerun plays on the TV. A card game is going on at the table behind him and one of the other patients quietly sits off in the corner folding post it notes into origami swans. A knock on the door bring Knight out of his doze and Dr. Martin sticks his head in the door. “Can I talk with you Mr. Knight?”
“Sure Doc...tor Martin.” Nick follows the doctor into the room next to the common room. “What’s up?”
“Please have a seat. How are you feeling today?”
“More like myself,” Nick answers. “I guess it feels good to be medicated again, but I’m drowsy as fuck.”
“Didn’t you have drowsiness before?”
“I had just gotten out of Gator Island and I was on all kinds of fucked up shit, so maybe I didn’t notice it.”
“What were you on before you started seeing Dr. Goode?”
“I have no fucking clue. When you’re locked up like I was you take what you’re given or they make you take it, and that son of a bitch Love liked to treat us like human guinea pigs. I spent half of the time sedated heavily and the rest of time on some kind of homemade cocktail,” Knight answers.
Martin jots down a few noted on a yellow legal pad. “Miss Hancock said you had a bit of an outburst this morning in group. Do you want to talk about it?”
“She said something that just kind of hit a nerve. I’m still feeling a bit emotional and I’ve got a little bit of a hair trigger I guess.”
“Alright. Well please keep taking your medicine and participating in groups, and try to keep things under control.”
“I will do my best.”
Wednesday 6:07 AM
The sun was shining into Nick’s facing waking him up, but he just did not have the energy to get out of bed. He was still hungover from the previous nights meds, but even worse he was unbelievably depressed. Only a couple of days into being medicated again he was still having mood swings, they were just slower, which meant he had no clue how long the funk would last.
He was also really feeling the effects of his match with Abraxes. Fifteen years ago he would wrestle matches like that six nights a week and the worst pain he had was a hangover. Now three days later he still felt like a truck had run him over. The worst part of getting old was that you just didn’t bounce back the same way. There was no way in hell he would ever put himself through what he had in his match with that sick bastard. The next time would be his retirement match, even if he wasn’t ready to call it quits.
He had finally made it upright by the time the nurse came around to tell him it was time for breakfast. Another hospital breakfast was not something he was looking forward to, but he knew he had to play the game if he was going to get out in time for Sacrifice. If that meant eating tasteless pancakes and powder eggs, so be it. If it meant playing along with the stupid group sessions and doing arts and crafts, so be it.
That morning’s group was all about stress relief and Nick did all of the exercises and had to admit he felt a little better. The light stretching helped to loosen up his sore muscles and released some tension he didn’t even know he had. The past couple of weeks had been extremely stressful for him and Bloody Assizes was far from being the release he normally got from being in the ring. Maybe putting Abraxes through that table was cathartic in a way, but it was far from stress reducing.If he was completely honest the whole experience probably caused him more stress than it was really worth.
Just after lunch he was allowed to use the phone for the first time and he of course called Penny. She did not answer so he left her a voice mail letting her know where he was and that he was doing alright. He gave her the return number, but he figured it was a waste of time. He was proven wrong when she called back less than ten minutes later.
“Hello,” Nick said into the receiver.
“I’m glad you called,” she had never been one for salutations. “I’ve been worried about you. How are you feeling?
“Mentally I’m starting to feel more like myself. Physically I feel like hammered shit. I’m seriously getting too old for this shit.”
“I tried to tell you not to do it, but like usual you didn’t listen,” she snarked.
“Penny I really don’t want to argue,” he replied. “I agree what I did was stupid, can we just leave it at that.”
“I’m sorry Nicky. I’m just so pissed at you right now.”
“I know. I’m actually pretty pissed at myself, because I know that I upset you. I miss you and JC so much and I can’t wait to get out of this place. I’m really ready to come home for a few days.
“When do you think you’ll be getting out?”
“The doctor hasn’t said, but Dr. Griffith my shrink with IWF is really pushing for me to be out in time to make Sacrifice.”
“Do you think that’s really a good idea? I mean you’re in the hospital for a reason right?”
“Yeah and I didn’t check myself in like I was planning.” Nick lets out a nervous sigh. “I guess I had some kind of a breakdown after the show. Dr. Griffith found me in the locker room crying uncontrollably. I’m not really sure what happened.
“Oh my god Nicky, what caused it?”
“I think it was talking to you that caused it, but it’s not your fault. Penny I’m sorry for the fucked up decisions I made the past couple of weeks, but I hope you understand.
“Nicky I'm not sure that I understand your decision, but I think I understand where it's coming from. In your own fucked up way you're trying to do the best you can for JC, and I respect that.
“Well I'm glad you can understand that much. Penny there is so much I want to talk with you about, but I want to get cleaned up before I see the doctor. They like to keep track of how often you shower for some stupid fucking reason.
“Nicky promise me you’ll call me when you get out.”
“Tell JC I love him and that I’ll talk to him in a couple of days.”
“I will. Talk to you in a couple of days.
He felt like a coward for not telling her that he loved her, but it just didn't feel like the right time.
5:15 PM
Nick was playing a hot and heavy game of Uno when Dr. Martin called him into the small office next to the common room. Dr. Griffith was with him today, which made Nick feel much better about everything.
"How are you feeling," Dr. Martin asks.
"Mentally much better, physically is a work in progress," Nick said, slowly lowering himself into a folding chair.
"Miss Hancock and the nurses all say you are cooperating, which is good. Tell me, what are you getting out of group sessions?"
"It depends on the session. Some of them I've been forced to think about how I feel about somethings. Others I've not really gotten much out of, to be honest."
"What have you been forced to think about," Dr. Griffith asks.
"The biggest is how I honestly feel about my ex."
"You really had to think about how you feel about your ex," Griffith says, almost sarcastically. "Nick I've known how he really felt since the first time we talked. You were pissed off because you were still hurting, which obviously means you still have feelings for her."
"Well I'm glad it was so fucking obvious to you, because I’m seriously working through this shit. I mean I’ve known that I'm still fucking attracted to her, but ninety percent of men with a pulse are attracted to her."
"It seems like you are still having some issues with mood swings," Martin says.
"A little bit,” Nicky replies.
“I’m going to raise the dose on your Lamictal and Depakote to what it was before. That should help a lot. Do you have any questions?” Nick shakes his head no. "Well keep up the good work and you can be out of here in just a couple of more days."
Dr. Martin quickly leaves the room allowing Nicky and Dr. Griffith to chat. "I'm serious about Penny. You are madly in love with her and are going to be miserable until you do something about it."
Nick puts his elbows on the round table and puts his head in his hands. “I don’t think she feels the same, Doc,” he says in almost a whisper.
"Nick I know I’m kind of your doctor, but at this point I think we’re friends. So my advice is to stop being a chicken shit and find out. You’re going to be fucking miserable until you do,” Griffith yells.
“I’’ll think about it.”
The doctor walks out of the room leaving Nick to wallow in his misery. He did not have the stones to try to make a move on Penny. She was out of his league by so much that she was playing a whole different game. He more than out kicked his coverage one and there was no way in hell he was going to ever be able to do it again. So he just got up and went to bed.
Thursday 6:55 AM
Nick could not face another hospital breakfast so he stayed in bed until just before group. Taking a his pills from the nurse at the counter he walked in and sat down in his customary seat within the circle. Today a gray haired man with rosey cheeks and a huge smile was there to lead the group. Nick couldn’t help but think that the guy looked really familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Good morning everyone my name is Reverend George Cane and I am one of the chaplins here in the hospital,” the man introduced himself. Knight had to smile because forty years before the man was one half of the Mid-Continental Tag Team Champions with Jimmy Knight.
The group went around the circle until finally getting to Nick, “Hi, my name is Nicholas James Knight.”
“You’re Jimmy’s boy,” the preacher said, his face lighting up.
“Yeah, I’m the oldest. We met very briefly at the funeral,” Nick said, returning the smile.
“We’ll have the chat after we get done here,” Cane said.
The group was a little too preachy for Nick’s taste, but he participated the best that he could. When it was over and the other patients wandered off Nick and George made their way to a quiet corner to talk. “Tell me, why are you in here Nick?”
“Mainly because I’m a dumbass and stopped taking my meds. It was to help me win a big match, but now that it’s over with, I’m not sure that it was worth it,” Nick answered.
“We’ve all done stupid things for the business, and most of the time we don’t even realise it until it’s too late. I honestly didn’t notice home much I had lost until I stopped drinking and got saved. I had poisoned pretty much every relationship I had ever had; it didn’t matter if it was with my wife, my kids, heck my brother stopped talking to me.”
“I spent almost two years locked up, because I didn’t take care of myself. The only person that even talked to me was my brother Sam, and half of the time that was because he was my attorney. I’m just now trying to repair my relationship with my ex and with my son.” A tear begins to run down Knight’s cheek. “I’m just afraid that the decision I made that put me in here has set us back. I talked with Penny yesterday and she’s really pissed at me.”
The old grappler turned preacher gave Nick a smile. “Nick she’s ticked off at you because she cares. Yes you might have had a set back, but you just need to keep working. I’ve been sober for ten years now, but I’ve been in AA for over twenty. I had a lot of set backs along the way, but I just had to keep working at it.”
“Yeah I guess my old man got it right eventually,” Nick wiped away the tear. “What was he like when you guys were tagging?”
“Your dad was a wild man inside of the ring and out. I think we were thrown out of every single bar in Memphis and half of them in Nashville because Jimmy started a fight. Usually it was by hitting on some guys girlfriend. I don’t know why, but the ladies went nuts for Jimmy, even when we were the biggest heels in the territory.”
“Yeah I’m sitting here because of a lady going nuts for Jimmy,” Nick joked.
“That you are,” Cane chuckled. “Inside of the ring he was a brawler. I mean he knew the basics, but he’d rather have used his fists. He also had a tendency to hit opponents with whatever was handy.”
“That sounds really familiar.”
“I’m sure it does,” the preacher chuckled. “Jimmy also had an amazing brain for the business. He honestly was way better behind the scenes than he ever was in the ring. I mean Jimmy kept that Memphis territory alive for probably five years longer than should have been possible.”
“He and I ran a company together for a while. Just a little indy company, but I learned so much from him. I miss him so much.”
“I do too. We used to talk at least once a week and got together a couple times a year. He sure was proud of his boys and constantly bragged about how good you were doing. He even sent me tape of some of your matches. You would have made Ric Flair money back in the eighties.”
“I do alright now,” Nick says, smiling.
“I’m sure you do, but remember you have to take care of yourself to make any money,” Cane lectures.
“I know. What I did was stupid and I don’t plan on doing it again. Especially since the next two months might be the most important of my career.”
“Here’s my card. Please call me when ever you want. I wouldn’t talking to another member of the Knight clan from time to time,” George says. “I have another appointment I need to get to, but seriously call me.”
7:15 PM
Nick quietly paced up and down the hall looking at the bad art work and wonder why hospitals and hotels always had shitty impressionist styled art. He personally hated the shit with a passion, but some salesman must have made a bundle selling it. Every once in a while his thoughts would roam to the fact that Dr. Martin had not been to see him yet, which made him very anxious.
The locked door at the end of the ward opened and in walked Dr. Griffith all by himself. Nick looked at him confused and the doctor just gave him a shit earring grin. “What the fuck are you doing here without Dr. Personality,” Knight asked.
“He had some sort of family function tonight and agreed to let me see you without him,” Griffith answered.
“I’m kind of surprised by that.”
“I was too given how anal he is about everthing,” the doctor admitted. “You should read the guys notes. They read like a fucking text book."
"I can only imagine. Mr. Knight presents with the classic symptoms of Rapid Cycling Bipolar disorder including blah, blah, blah."
"Pretty much, except he thinks you have Schizoaffective Disorder, not by Bipolar disorder."
"What the fuck is that?"
"The love child of Schizophrenia and Bipolar. His notes say that the fact that you refer to the violent part of you as a monster is a hallucination, which is bullshit."
"How's that going to fuck with me getting out?"
"It won't if you just keep playing the game. Take your meds, participate in group, brush your teeth, choke down the nasty fucking food."
"The food's not that bad. We had chicken nuggets for lunch that I think were made with real chicken. Now if the honey mustard was real it would have been a pretty decent meal."
The doctor laughs. "What did you have for dinner?"
"Shit on a shingle," Knight answers. "Not the good chipped beef stuff. I'm pretty sure it was actually a turd on a piece of toast. I thought it was a rib at first, but then I remembered where I was. It was almost as bad as prison loaf."
"Damn. Next time I come I'll bring you some real food. Any requests?"
"Since In-N-Out isn't possible, not really."
"You look better Nick."
"Mentally I feel a lot better. I'm still sore as fuck, and being cooped up in here isn’t really helping. I can’t get any kind of treatment and it’s hard to even get in a good work out. Not to mention the previously discussed shitty food. Damn Doc I sound like a spoiled little bitch.”
“No, you sound like an elite professional athlete.”
“I don’t know about all that,” Nick says, with a smile. “I’m not sure I’m that elite or an athlete for that matter.”
“Nick I’ve watched your matches, you’re pretty damn good in the ring. You’re also pretty damn good at bashing people in the head with things, but that’s a different story.”
“Nah hitting people over the head with shit is easy. The hard part is being able to be hit with shit and keep on fighting. Since I’m too fucking stupid to stay down, I’m pretty good at doing that,” Nick says, with a chuckle.
“Do you think all of the shots to your head has anything to do with your mental health issues,” Griffith asks.
Knight pauses for a moment and lets out a long sigh. “You know I had a lot of time to think of this when I was on Gator Island, and I’m not sure. Looking back I’ve always been Bipolar, even as a kid. There are several years that I can barely remember because I was so depressed and withdrawn. I just don’t know if wrestling made it worse, but it might have had a part. All of the drinking and drugs through the years I’m sure didn’t help.”
“You don’t feel violent at all?”
“Not anymore that usual. Given that I’m in a professional combat sport I’m always going to be a little but violent, or I’m going to be a shitty professional wrestler.”
“Touche.”
“When am I getting out of here Doc?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping for tomorrow, but with Martin not here I think it’s going to delay things. My guess is Saturday.”
“That works. Gives me plenty of time to get to Texas for Sacrifice. I’m going to need time to decompress and prepare for whatever comes next.
“All I know is that it’s going to be part of the Heir to the Throne tournament. I saw that you’re one of the eight, but I honestly haven’t heard the week one matches.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Nick replies, with a shrug. “I just have to be ready to wrestle.”
“Well get some rest. I’ll fill Dr. Goode in on what’s going on and I’ll try to come see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks Doc.”
Friday 2:45 AM
Nicky woke up screaming and soaked in sweat. He could not remember the dream, but his heart was racing liked he just wrestled a sixty minute broadway. It felt like bugs were crawling all over him and he couldn’t help but twitch the keep the sensation at bay. A nurse came running into the room to check on his, it was the one he met the first morning he was in the hospital.
“You alright, honey?”
[cc33cc]“You’re still beautiful.” Nick gives her a smile.[cc33cc] “I’m alright, just a nightmare.”
“You sure you’re alright. You seem a little bit jumpy?”
“I’m alright. I just get this way sometimes, especially with the med changes the past couple of weeks.”
“OK. Just let me know if you need anything.”
6:45 AM
Nick had been asleep for less than an hour when the nurse came in to wake him up for group. The last thing he wanted to do was endure whatever stupid activity that scheduled for them that day. It turned out to be another session of everyone sit in a circle and bitch about their problems. He would have prefered the thing with the ball, but he had to play their game if he wanted to get out.
The cast of characters for this session had changed, all except for the sexy blonde that he had been avoiding all week. He loved Penny with all of his heart and honestly wanted to make that work, but after three years a guy had needs. He had turned down every single crack whore at the motel he lived in for several months. He probably had a shot with the teenaged girl he worked with at McDonald’s, but he never really noticed. This girl on the other hand was the kind of girl that had always been his kryptonite.
“...I talked to my boyfriend last night and he said he was sorry for everything. He still swears that he didn’t fuck my sister, but I’m not convinced. I really don’t know what to do.”
“Leave him,” Nick says, not real emotion in his voice. He felt like shit and didn’t have time for anyone’s bullshit today.
“Nick, remember the talking stick,” Miss Hancock admonishes him.
“We’re all adults here, why do we need a damn talking stick?”
“To keep people from interrupting others,” she snarked.
“Whatever.”
Nick stomped out and went back to his room to take a nap.
4:45 PM
Nick has slept the entire day and the nurse woke him up because the doctor was there to see him. Nick yawned and stretched and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He had no clue what time it was, but it had to be late if the doctor was already doing rounds.
He walked into the small office and say down across from Dr. Martin. The small man pushed up his glasses and looked Nick over for a moment. “I heard you had another outburst during group?”
“Sorry about that. I didn’t really sleep last night and I was cranky.”
“Why didn’t you sleep?”
“I had a nightmare and just could never get back to sleep. The flashlight shining in your face every half an hour doesn’t help any.”
“Well it’s the staff’s responsibility to make sure you’re safe.”
“I get that, but it can fuck up your sleep.”
“I’m going to raise all of your meds up to where Dr. Goode had them starting tonight. I’ll be here in the morning to see how you slept. Do you have anything else for me?”
“I don’t think so. Thank you for everything.”
Nick snarfed down dinner and for once it wasn’t horrible and then he went back to bed. Hopefully things work out and he’ll be able to leave in the morning.
7:00 AM
Knight finished breakfast and sat on the faded couch to watch TV. Wrestling was on, one of the second tier companies that were geared towards children. Some of the talent was good, if not a little raw, but they were all fucking cartoon characters. Nick had to turn the channel and he eventually found lucha libre on a spanish language channel. This made him smile, because he loved his time working in Mexico.
“Mr. Knight can I speak with you,” Doctor Martin interrupted. Nick was annoyed at the little man’s timing, but he had to play the game.
“How’s it going Doctor,” Knight asks, sitting down.
“I’m well. How are you doing?”
“The dude abides.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“You’ve never seen The Big Lebowski?”
“No. What does it mean?”
“It means that I just am.”
“That doesn’t really tell me much Mr. Knight.”
“Sorry it’s the California in me,” Nick replies.
“I see. How did you sleep last night?”
“Much better than the night before.”
“No nightmares?”
“Nope. I wasn’t even woken up by the stupid flashlights.”
“Good. If you do alright today I think you can probably get out tomorrow. How does that sound?”
“Today would be better, but tomorrow I can handle.”/color]
“Good to hear. I believe Dr. Griffith will be coming around to check on you this evening. I will be busy tonight, that’s why I am here now.”
“Thank you for everything.”
“You’re very welcome Mr. Knight.”
8:00 PM
Nick is watching some bad made for TV movie when Dr. Griffith arrives with a bag of Taco Bell. Knight can’t help but smile at his friend, because he knows that he is being tested. A test that he knew he would have no problems passing.
“You get my order right?”
“Number six with a Mountain Dew and a burrito supreme.”
“Did you remember the spork?”
“Shit I think I… no here it is.”
“You’re testing me?”
“Dr. Goode thought it would be a good idea.”
“Fuck Dr. Goode,” Nick says, laughing. “Give me my damn food.”
Nick leads his friend into the small office that Dr. Martin used to talk with patients and sat down at the table. Tearing into his food he didn’t say a word until it was all finished. “Thanks for the food. After all the shit I’ve ate this week it hit the spot. Even if they still can’t get a fucking burrito right. How can you not get sour cream all the way through it.”
“I don’t know. Do you feel like stabbing anyone with a spork right now?”
“No, but I wish you’ld grabbed me two drinks. This soda hit the spot after a week of nothing but water or juice.”
“I’m sorry. Dr. Martin tell you when you’re getting out?”
“Tomorrow. Everything has been pretty chill today so I think it will happen.”
“Excellent. Do you need me to do anything?”
“Book me a flight for tomorrow evening and find me a hotel. I hate not having time to decompress, but you got to do what you got to do.”
“You read that in a fortune cookie?”
“No your mom told me that right after…”
“I can talk Martin into keeping you,” Griffith interrupts, laughing.
“You wouldn’t do that to your favorite patient, would you? Especially with The Powers That Be fining every body.”
“No shit. I’ll get a flight booked for us and find a hotel. You have any preferences?”
“Something cheap. I spent way too fucking much on a room last week, especially after paying to fix all the shit I broke.”
“OK. I’ll be around to pick you up as soon as Martin releases you. You’ve done good this week Nick.”
“Thanks Doc.”
“I’m serious. A lot of people would not have been able to bounce back the way that you have.”
“Seriously Doc, thank you. You have no idea how much you’ve helped me out the past few months. I mean the only other person I know on the IWF roster is Gregor Winter and I haven’t had a chance to talk to him since he signed.”
“I didn’t know you knew Gregor?”
“Yeah my little brother trained him and we worked a lot of indy shows together. He’s probably the only guy in the company I would trust enough to have as my tag team partner.”
“You’re not going to like this then. The week one match ups for Heir to the Throne has been announced and you’re in a tag match.”
“Who’s my partner?”
“Almir Sayed.”
“Fuck me! Are you serious?” The doctor nods. “I know they’re going to stack the deck for Dean to win, but that’s kind of obvious isn’t it.”
“How so?”
“The guy is a fucking snake and I can’t trust him. Not to mention I fucking hate tag team matches. It’s a fucking set up.”
“I don’t know, maybe it’s random?”
“I doubt it. I need to just focus on getting out of here and worry about that later.”
“Good plan. I need to get going, I have a date with a very nice woman I met online.”
“Tender or Plenty of Fish?”
“That’s none of your business?”
“So some college coed that you met on Tender and you’re hoping to entice her into your bed with a fancy restaurant and ride in your rented beamer.”
“It’s a rented Jag thank you very much,” Griffith says, laughing.
“Well that’s even better. Have a good time.”
“I plan on it.”
Saturday 8:10 AM
Nick is sitting in the common room trying to ignore the church service being played on the television and way too high a volume. When Dr. Martin walks into the room he nearly jumped out of his seat to run to the door. “Good morning doctor.”
“You seem in a jolly humour Mr. Knight,” the doctor says, smiling for the first time Nick had ever seen.
“I’m just excited to get out of here.”
“I’m sure you are, but do you think you’re ready to leave?”
“I don’t know why not. I feel just as good as I did two weeks ago.”
“So you don’t have any plans to stop taking your meds again?”
“No. I wish I didn’t have to this time, but it was kind of a matter of life and death.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit of an exaggeration?”
“Dr. Martin, what I do is very dangerous on a normal night with a normal opponent. You add weapons into the mix and it automatically becomes way more dangerous. Give those weapons to a three hundred pound psychopath trying to take your head off and it becomes a matter of life or death.”
“You could have just not done it.”
“Now you sound like my ex-wife. Dr. Martin I know I could have just walked away, but I have bills to pay. I just bought a condo and I have a mortgage. That one match might make me enough to pay off my entire mortgage.”
“Was it worth spending this past week in the hospital?”
“That’s a question I will be asking myself for a long time. I’ll just add it to the bottom of a long list of things that I wonder about every day.”
“You are an extremely odd person Mr. Knight.”
“Spend enough time around professional wrestlers and I think you;ll find I’m relatively normal. It takes a special breed to do the things that we do night in and night out. You should ask Dr. Griffith about us sometime.”
“I very much doubt that I will ever speak with Dr. Griffith again, but I appreciate you thinking of me. I will put in the paperwork for your release. You should be ready to leave by noon.”
“Thanks, doctor. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
Martin just turns and walks away.
12:11 PM
Nick and Dr. Griffith are in a rented Jaguar F Type making their way to the Greensboro airport. Nick is watching the world go by with a big smile on his face.
“So Doc, what did you do to piss off ol’ Doc Martin?”
“You remember my date last night?”
“Yeah?”
“It was with his daughter.”
“You...no?”
“Yeah and it turns out that she still lives at home.”
Nick just cracks up laughing.
The End
"It's time to wake up Mr. Knight," a strange voice said. Nick opened his eyes and looked up into the eyes of an angel.
"You're beautiful," he said, a stupid grin on his face.
"It's just the drugs talking Mr. Knight," she replied, chuckling. "It's time for breakfast."
"Is the food worth a shit in this place?" Nick groaned when his barefoot hit the cold floor. His spine sounding like a bowl of Rice Krispies as he slowly stands.
"It's hospital food, what do you think?"
"Shit, I was afraid you'd say that. Rubber eggs, burnt sausage, and hockey puck pancakes?
"Waffles today. They're worse than the pancakes." She tosses a pair of rubber ducky yellow grippy socks on the bed next to him. "Put those on so you don't fall on your ass. Hospital fired the last nurse that got it sued. I just bought a new house and need to keep my job."
The nurse was right, the food was terrible, although it was better than some of the shit they called food on Gator Island. During the weekend to keep down cost they would be fed nothing but prison loaf. A combination of god only knows what all mixed together and baked. Most of the time Nick just gave his to fat Leon in exchange for a little bit of the pruno he always seemed to be making. Leon was resourceful as hell for a baby killer.
After breakfast came Nick’s least favorite part of being in the nut house, group. Growing up in the projects showing your sensitive side got your ass beat and your shoes stolen then thrown over a powerline. The testosterone filled professional wrestling locker rooms were just as bad, if not worse. So getting all touchy feely and talking about his feelings came hard to Nick. Listening to people bitch about theirs was harder.
Luckily there were only three other people locked up with him. A pudgy kid with a baby face that was barely able to vote, a girl about the same age wearing glasses so thick her eyes filled the lenses, and a sexy blonde that fifteen years ago Nick would have tried to fuck in a broom closet. Now he just sat and listened to her whine about her asshole boyfriend.
"...last week he brought a knife to bed. He said it would add a bit of danger to our sex life. So I used that same knife to slit my wrist when I thought he was fucking my sister. He's not, he was just fixing the plumbing in her trailer. Laying some new pipe."
"Stop," Knight screamed. "Maybe he is a nice guy and helping your sister out, but I doubt it. He's a piece of shit and pieces of shit only help people out if it helps them out more. He was at your sister's laying pipe? Yeah, that means he was fucking her. My advice honey is to run far and run fast. I mean, who in their right fucking mind uses a knife in bed."
"Nick you don't have the talking stick," the touchy feely therapist scolds.
"Fuck that stick. This girl needs to hear some hard truth. Sweetheart you're gorgeous and you seem to be a caring person, maybe a little too much. You are so much better than that guy. Let your sister have him."
"You really think so?" A tear ran down her cheek and Nick had to fight the urge to give her a hug.
Knight gave her a big smile, ignoring the pain coming from his cut up face. "I do."
"Thank you," She returned his smile. "You're very kind for saying so."
Nick seriously needed a cold shower. She was exactly the kind of rat he'd take back to the Days Inn after a show, vulnerable and a little fucked in the head. Sometimes he would steal them away from their boyfriends for the night and then send them back to their trailer park or cheap apartment in the morning. Hell some guys got off on the fact that their girl was spending the night with someone sort of famous. He didn’t want to even want to think about going back to that point in his life.
The pudgy kid went next and Nick had a hard time staying focused. He did pick up pretty quick that the kid had been picked on his whole life and it had fucked him up really bad. Knight had no problem understanding why a kid that beaten down would end up in the psyche ward.
"What's your name kid," Nick asked.
"Gary, sir."
"Please call me Nick. Gary people have been using you to make themselves feel better this whole time. They are insecure and the only way for them to feel good is to make you feel worse. People are fucked up like that, but you seem like an alright kid."
"But I'm fat, and stupid, and...and a weirdo."
"Gary, some of the best people I know are weird. It's not going to be easy, but you can lose weight. Given that copy of Atlas Shrugged next to you, I also think it's safe to say you're far from stupid."
“I’ve tried to lose weight and I just can’t do it,” the kid whined.
“I’ll tell you what Gary, I’ll give you some help. I can teach you some easy exercising that you can do anywhere, even in here. You’ll be sore as sit for a few days, but you’ll start getting in shape quick.”
“Really? You’ld do that,” Gary asked.
“Sure, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to kill.”
The girl with the glasses went third and Knight could see a kindred spirit in her. She was locked up because she snapped and beat the shit out of a waiter for fucking up her order. She wasn't some wilting violet, she had the monster inside. Nick could respect anyone that was fighting the monster.
"So why are you here Mr. Knight," the therapist asked.
"We could be here all day if I told the whole story. The quick and dirty version is that I went off my meds to take care of something and I'm getting back on them."
"Why did you stop taking your meds," she asked.
"It was a job thing."
"Do you think that it's healthy to have a job that makes you stop taking your meds?"
"There's very little about my job that is healthy. People in my line of work die young and are fucked up physically. Some days I can barely get out of bed."
"What kind of job do you have," Gary asks.
"I'm a professional wrestler."
"The guys in their underwear that pretend to…" Knight snapped before the young man could finish his sentence. The wooden chair he was sitting in flew across the room and shattered against the wall. Two giant orderlies ran into the room and tackled Nick to the floor, while the nurse injected a tranquilizer into his arm.
5:07 PM
"You awake Mr. Knight," a deep voice asks.
Nick snaps open his eyes and looks around the room. "Where the fuck am
"You're in the hospital. Don't you remember?"
“I can’t remember a fucking thing.” Knight moves his arm and finds that he is strapped down to his bed. "Why the fuck am I strapped down?"
"You attacked another patient. You seriously don't remember that?"
"The last thing I remember was powerbombing that big fucker through the flaming table. Everything after that is kind of a blur."
"It's from the sedatives it will all come back to you.”
“I’ve had a lot of experience with that shit. Sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn’t,” Nick replies.
“You slept through lunch, are you hungry?”
"Is the food worth a shit here?"
"I've had worse in jail."
"I could eat. What's on the menu?"
"Dry hamburger on stale bun, soggy French fries, over cooked canned corn, and chocolate pudding."
"I definitely ate worse when I was locked up. Grab me a tray I guess."
The orderly left and came back a moment later with a sad looking tray of food. "You promise to behave if I unstrap you?"
"I didn’t know that I miss behaved, so I can't promise, but I'll do my best," Nick answers.
"Fair enough," the orderly unbuckles the soft restraints and slid the table over Knight's hospital bed. "Eat up. The doc will be in to see you in a few."
True to his word the food was atrocious and just as he was choking down the last bite Dr. Riley Griffith and a short balding man in horn rimmed glasses walked into the room.
"You look like shit," Griffith says.
"It's not just a look," Nick replies, with a smile.
"Nick this is Dr. Robert Martin. He's the head of the psychiatry department here at Greensboro Methodist. Since I don't work for the hospital, he's supervising your care. I will be around to give him my input and we'll be in contact with Dr. Goode."
"Nice to meet you doc." Nick extends his hand, but Martin keeps his distance.
"I hope you won't be offended if I don't shake your hand," Martin says in a quiet voice.
"Not at all." Nick could see fear in his eyes. It was probably a healthy decision on the doctors part, but something about it made Nick feel like hot garbage.
"I guess to start, why the fuck would you stop taking your meds," Griffith asks.
"I needed to set the monster free, and please don't give me that rationalizing bullshit."
"What do you mean by monster," Martin asks.
"I'm assuming you've at least seen the Reader's Digest version of my chart." The doctor nods. "The monster is that thing inside of me that makes me violent. I fucking hate it and what it does to me, but for one night I needed it."
"Why on earth would you need to be violent?"
"You see my face?"
"It's a little hard to miss. You look like you lost a fight with a wood chipper."
"You should see the other guy."
Dr. Griffith laughs, earning him a dirty look from his colleague. "I don't know how you can think that's funny?"
"It's funny because I saw the other guy,” Griffith answers.
"I guess let me try to explain. Are you a wrestling fan," Nick asks Dr. Martin.
“I was when I was a kid. My dad used to take me to the Coliseum almost every Sunday night, and of course on Thanksgiving. I honestly haven’t watched wrestling in years, so I would have to say that no I am not.”
“Well you know enough for me to try to explain myself. Imagine a guy the size of the Road Warriors with the mindset of a serial killer. That was the guy I faced last night in a match that when you were a fan would have been called ‘no holds barred.’”
“What does that have to do with you taking your meds,” Martin asked, still confused.
“I don’t think that way anymore. I’m not a violent man by nature and my temper no longer has that hair trigger. I am just trying to be a good professional wrestler and a great father. If I was going to have a snowballs chance in hell against that big bastard I had to be the person I was before. I had to unleash my inner monster to defeat a monster.”
“Do you know why you are here Mr.Knight,” Martin asks, pulling up a stool and sitting down.
“Please call me Nick. I’m here because I want to get back on my meds and move on with my life. Since I almost got arrested for destroying a really expensive hotel room coming off of them, I figured I needed a little help.”
“Nick that’s not why you’re here,” Dr. Griffith says. “After the show you were found weeping uncontrollably. We had to bring you here by ambulance and sedate you to put you to sleep.”
“Wait, what?”
“I don’t know what happened, but you had some sort of a breakdown,” Griffith explains.
“I didn’t come here on my own?”
“No,” Dr. Martin says. “You have been committed for observation and will not be released until I feel you are not a danger to yourself or others. Now Miss Hancock said that you were more or less cooperating in group this morning, until you had your little fit.”
“Doc I’ve got no reason not to cooperate. Like I said, I just want to get back on my meds and get on with my life.”
“Please don’t call me Doc, Mr. Knight. I will have a nurse bring your evening meds down. I expect you to be cooperative in group tomorrow and please don’t attack the other patients. I would hate to have to send you to a more secure facility.”
Dr. Martin turned on his heels and walked out of the room living Dr. Griffith alone with Nick. “He’s a candidate for Ms. Congeniality,” Nick say, making the doctor laugh.
“He’s an acquired taste. I haven’t quite acquired it, but he’s the only guy that can let you out of this place. So you need to play nice with him and act like a good boy if you want to make it to Corpus Chrisi for Sacrifice.”
“How bad was I when you found me?”
“Nick it was pretty bad. You were sobbing and no one could get you to stop, or even talk to them. I tried all the way to the hospital, but you just cried. Any idea what triggered it?” Knight just shook his head. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Knight sits up on the edge and strokes his long beard, thinking. A habit he had picked up ever since he started growing the thing. “I’m pretty sure I called Penny to let her know that I was alright. That’s the last thing I remember until waking up this morning.”
“Do you think that’s what did it?”
Knight lets out a long sigh and shakes his head. “I...I don’t know for sure. I can’t remember what we talked about, but I know she’s pissed at me. I just hope I didn’t fucking things up between us.”
“Well play the game and get your ass out of here. Then you can go back to trying to fix things with Penny. I’ll give Dr. Goode a call and be back to see you when I can.”
“Good night Doc.”
Dr. Griffith walked out leaving Nick alone with his broken thoughts.
Tuesday 6:15 AM
Nick choked down breakfast and took his pills with his plastic cup of OJ. Having met most of the other patients the day before he chatted with them, getting to know them better. Gary the guy he tried to attack the day before was nowhere to be seen, and when he finally asked he was told that he had been transferred to a long term facility. Nick felt terrible that he would not be able to apologize to the kid, because he sure he scared him shitless.
When breakfast was over it was once again time for group. Today instead of just bitching about what was wrong with their lives they played a game. A person would throw a small rubber ball with words written on it to another patient. Which ever word their right hand landed on when they caught the ball they had to talk about something that made them feel that emotion. Nicks went first and the word he got was anger.
“This is a really tough one for me, because right now a lot of things are making me feel angry. Mostly I feel angry at myself because I keep hurting the people that I love. I don’t want to hurt them, but sometimes I just can’t help it.”
“What have you done to hurt a loved one lately,” Miss Hancock asks.
“I ended up here,” Nick answers.
“I don’t think you trying to get better hurts anyone,” she replies.
“It does when it was my choice to go off my meds. I chose to make myself crazy, and that hurt the people I care for the most.”
The other patients took a turn and when it got back to Nick he got happy.
“There’s a lot going on right now that makes me happy, but the thing that makes me the happiest is hanging out with my kid. I lost nearly three years of his life because of stupid shit that I did and it’s fucking awesome to just spend time with him.”
Everyone went again and the last time around Nick landed on love.
“This is a hard one for me right. Obviously I love my kid to death, but I think I’m still in love with my ex-wife. We hang out together quite bit doing things with the kid and I definitely still have feelings for her. I honestly don’t know how she feels and I’m so fucking afraid of being rejected that I don’t do anything about my feelings.”
“Fear of rejection is perfectly normal,” the counselor says. “However it’s really unhealthy to hold in how you feel about someone. If you love her tell her that you love her, even if it ends up being just platonic.”
“I do love her, but I don’t think I want to just be platonic. I just think that that ship might have sailed, and that breaks my heart. God I fucked up.”
“How do you know if you don’t try,” she asks.
“I just do!” Nick stands up and throws the ball hard against the wall and storms off to his room. Slamming the door he crawls into his bed and curls up in the fetal position. Tears stream down his face and he sobs uncontrollably.
4:45 PM
Nick is sitting in the common room trying to fight off sleep as a Golden Girls rerun plays on the TV. A card game is going on at the table behind him and one of the other patients quietly sits off in the corner folding post it notes into origami swans. A knock on the door bring Knight out of his doze and Dr. Martin sticks his head in the door. “Can I talk with you Mr. Knight?”
“Sure Doc...tor Martin.” Nick follows the doctor into the room next to the common room. “What’s up?”
“Please have a seat. How are you feeling today?”
“More like myself,” Nick answers. “I guess it feels good to be medicated again, but I’m drowsy as fuck.”
“Didn’t you have drowsiness before?”
“I had just gotten out of Gator Island and I was on all kinds of fucked up shit, so maybe I didn’t notice it.”
“What were you on before you started seeing Dr. Goode?”
“I have no fucking clue. When you’re locked up like I was you take what you’re given or they make you take it, and that son of a bitch Love liked to treat us like human guinea pigs. I spent half of the time sedated heavily and the rest of time on some kind of homemade cocktail,” Knight answers.
Martin jots down a few noted on a yellow legal pad. “Miss Hancock said you had a bit of an outburst this morning in group. Do you want to talk about it?”
“She said something that just kind of hit a nerve. I’m still feeling a bit emotional and I’ve got a little bit of a hair trigger I guess.”
“Alright. Well please keep taking your medicine and participating in groups, and try to keep things under control.”
“I will do my best.”
Wednesday 6:07 AM
The sun was shining into Nick’s facing waking him up, but he just did not have the energy to get out of bed. He was still hungover from the previous nights meds, but even worse he was unbelievably depressed. Only a couple of days into being medicated again he was still having mood swings, they were just slower, which meant he had no clue how long the funk would last.
He was also really feeling the effects of his match with Abraxes. Fifteen years ago he would wrestle matches like that six nights a week and the worst pain he had was a hangover. Now three days later he still felt like a truck had run him over. The worst part of getting old was that you just didn’t bounce back the same way. There was no way in hell he would ever put himself through what he had in his match with that sick bastard. The next time would be his retirement match, even if he wasn’t ready to call it quits.
He had finally made it upright by the time the nurse came around to tell him it was time for breakfast. Another hospital breakfast was not something he was looking forward to, but he knew he had to play the game if he was going to get out in time for Sacrifice. If that meant eating tasteless pancakes and powder eggs, so be it. If it meant playing along with the stupid group sessions and doing arts and crafts, so be it.
That morning’s group was all about stress relief and Nick did all of the exercises and had to admit he felt a little better. The light stretching helped to loosen up his sore muscles and released some tension he didn’t even know he had. The past couple of weeks had been extremely stressful for him and Bloody Assizes was far from being the release he normally got from being in the ring. Maybe putting Abraxes through that table was cathartic in a way, but it was far from stress reducing.If he was completely honest the whole experience probably caused him more stress than it was really worth.
Just after lunch he was allowed to use the phone for the first time and he of course called Penny. She did not answer so he left her a voice mail letting her know where he was and that he was doing alright. He gave her the return number, but he figured it was a waste of time. He was proven wrong when she called back less than ten minutes later.
“Hello,” Nick said into the receiver.
“I’m glad you called,” she had never been one for salutations. “I’ve been worried about you. How are you feeling?
“Mentally I’m starting to feel more like myself. Physically I feel like hammered shit. I’m seriously getting too old for this shit.”
“I tried to tell you not to do it, but like usual you didn’t listen,” she snarked.
“Penny I really don’t want to argue,” he replied. “I agree what I did was stupid, can we just leave it at that.”
“I’m sorry Nicky. I’m just so pissed at you right now.”
“I know. I’m actually pretty pissed at myself, because I know that I upset you. I miss you and JC so much and I can’t wait to get out of this place. I’m really ready to come home for a few days.
“When do you think you’ll be getting out?”
“The doctor hasn’t said, but Dr. Griffith my shrink with IWF is really pushing for me to be out in time to make Sacrifice.”
“Do you think that’s really a good idea? I mean you’re in the hospital for a reason right?”
“Yeah and I didn’t check myself in like I was planning.” Nick lets out a nervous sigh. “I guess I had some kind of a breakdown after the show. Dr. Griffith found me in the locker room crying uncontrollably. I’m not really sure what happened.
“Oh my god Nicky, what caused it?”
“I think it was talking to you that caused it, but it’s not your fault. Penny I’m sorry for the fucked up decisions I made the past couple of weeks, but I hope you understand.
“Nicky I'm not sure that I understand your decision, but I think I understand where it's coming from. In your own fucked up way you're trying to do the best you can for JC, and I respect that.
“Well I'm glad you can understand that much. Penny there is so much I want to talk with you about, but I want to get cleaned up before I see the doctor. They like to keep track of how often you shower for some stupid fucking reason.
“Nicky promise me you’ll call me when you get out.”
“Tell JC I love him and that I’ll talk to him in a couple of days.”
“I will. Talk to you in a couple of days.
He felt like a coward for not telling her that he loved her, but it just didn't feel like the right time.
5:15 PM
Nick was playing a hot and heavy game of Uno when Dr. Martin called him into the small office next to the common room. Dr. Griffith was with him today, which made Nick feel much better about everything.
"How are you feeling," Dr. Martin asks.
"Mentally much better, physically is a work in progress," Nick said, slowly lowering himself into a folding chair.
"Miss Hancock and the nurses all say you are cooperating, which is good. Tell me, what are you getting out of group sessions?"
"It depends on the session. Some of them I've been forced to think about how I feel about somethings. Others I've not really gotten much out of, to be honest."
"What have you been forced to think about," Dr. Griffith asks.
"The biggest is how I honestly feel about my ex."
"You really had to think about how you feel about your ex," Griffith says, almost sarcastically. "Nick I've known how he really felt since the first time we talked. You were pissed off because you were still hurting, which obviously means you still have feelings for her."
"Well I'm glad it was so fucking obvious to you, because I’m seriously working through this shit. I mean I’ve known that I'm still fucking attracted to her, but ninety percent of men with a pulse are attracted to her."
"It seems like you are still having some issues with mood swings," Martin says.
"A little bit,” Nicky replies.
“I’m going to raise the dose on your Lamictal and Depakote to what it was before. That should help a lot. Do you have any questions?” Nick shakes his head no. "Well keep up the good work and you can be out of here in just a couple of more days."
Dr. Martin quickly leaves the room allowing Nicky and Dr. Griffith to chat. "I'm serious about Penny. You are madly in love with her and are going to be miserable until you do something about it."
Nick puts his elbows on the round table and puts his head in his hands. “I don’t think she feels the same, Doc,” he says in almost a whisper.
"Nick I know I’m kind of your doctor, but at this point I think we’re friends. So my advice is to stop being a chicken shit and find out. You’re going to be fucking miserable until you do,” Griffith yells.
“I’’ll think about it.”
The doctor walks out of the room leaving Nick to wallow in his misery. He did not have the stones to try to make a move on Penny. She was out of his league by so much that she was playing a whole different game. He more than out kicked his coverage one and there was no way in hell he was going to ever be able to do it again. So he just got up and went to bed.
Thursday 6:55 AM
Nick could not face another hospital breakfast so he stayed in bed until just before group. Taking a his pills from the nurse at the counter he walked in and sat down in his customary seat within the circle. Today a gray haired man with rosey cheeks and a huge smile was there to lead the group. Nick couldn’t help but think that the guy looked really familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Good morning everyone my name is Reverend George Cane and I am one of the chaplins here in the hospital,” the man introduced himself. Knight had to smile because forty years before the man was one half of the Mid-Continental Tag Team Champions with Jimmy Knight.
The group went around the circle until finally getting to Nick, “Hi, my name is Nicholas James Knight.”
“You’re Jimmy’s boy,” the preacher said, his face lighting up.
“Yeah, I’m the oldest. We met very briefly at the funeral,” Nick said, returning the smile.
“We’ll have the chat after we get done here,” Cane said.
The group was a little too preachy for Nick’s taste, but he participated the best that he could. When it was over and the other patients wandered off Nick and George made their way to a quiet corner to talk. “Tell me, why are you in here Nick?”
“Mainly because I’m a dumbass and stopped taking my meds. It was to help me win a big match, but now that it’s over with, I’m not sure that it was worth it,” Nick answered.
“We’ve all done stupid things for the business, and most of the time we don’t even realise it until it’s too late. I honestly didn’t notice home much I had lost until I stopped drinking and got saved. I had poisoned pretty much every relationship I had ever had; it didn’t matter if it was with my wife, my kids, heck my brother stopped talking to me.”
“I spent almost two years locked up, because I didn’t take care of myself. The only person that even talked to me was my brother Sam, and half of the time that was because he was my attorney. I’m just now trying to repair my relationship with my ex and with my son.” A tear begins to run down Knight’s cheek. “I’m just afraid that the decision I made that put me in here has set us back. I talked with Penny yesterday and she’s really pissed at me.”
The old grappler turned preacher gave Nick a smile. “Nick she’s ticked off at you because she cares. Yes you might have had a set back, but you just need to keep working. I’ve been sober for ten years now, but I’ve been in AA for over twenty. I had a lot of set backs along the way, but I just had to keep working at it.”
“Yeah I guess my old man got it right eventually,” Nick wiped away the tear. “What was he like when you guys were tagging?”
“Your dad was a wild man inside of the ring and out. I think we were thrown out of every single bar in Memphis and half of them in Nashville because Jimmy started a fight. Usually it was by hitting on some guys girlfriend. I don’t know why, but the ladies went nuts for Jimmy, even when we were the biggest heels in the territory.”
“Yeah I’m sitting here because of a lady going nuts for Jimmy,” Nick joked.
“That you are,” Cane chuckled. “Inside of the ring he was a brawler. I mean he knew the basics, but he’d rather have used his fists. He also had a tendency to hit opponents with whatever was handy.”
“That sounds really familiar.”
“I’m sure it does,” the preacher chuckled. “Jimmy also had an amazing brain for the business. He honestly was way better behind the scenes than he ever was in the ring. I mean Jimmy kept that Memphis territory alive for probably five years longer than should have been possible.”
“He and I ran a company together for a while. Just a little indy company, but I learned so much from him. I miss him so much.”
“I do too. We used to talk at least once a week and got together a couple times a year. He sure was proud of his boys and constantly bragged about how good you were doing. He even sent me tape of some of your matches. You would have made Ric Flair money back in the eighties.”
“I do alright now,” Nick says, smiling.
“I’m sure you do, but remember you have to take care of yourself to make any money,” Cane lectures.
“I know. What I did was stupid and I don’t plan on doing it again. Especially since the next two months might be the most important of my career.”
“Here’s my card. Please call me when ever you want. I wouldn’t talking to another member of the Knight clan from time to time,” George says. “I have another appointment I need to get to, but seriously call me.”
7:15 PM
Nick quietly paced up and down the hall looking at the bad art work and wonder why hospitals and hotels always had shitty impressionist styled art. He personally hated the shit with a passion, but some salesman must have made a bundle selling it. Every once in a while his thoughts would roam to the fact that Dr. Martin had not been to see him yet, which made him very anxious.
The locked door at the end of the ward opened and in walked Dr. Griffith all by himself. Nick looked at him confused and the doctor just gave him a shit earring grin. “What the fuck are you doing here without Dr. Personality,” Knight asked.
“He had some sort of family function tonight and agreed to let me see you without him,” Griffith answered.
“I’m kind of surprised by that.”
“I was too given how anal he is about everthing,” the doctor admitted. “You should read the guys notes. They read like a fucking text book."
"I can only imagine. Mr. Knight presents with the classic symptoms of Rapid Cycling Bipolar disorder including blah, blah, blah."
"Pretty much, except he thinks you have Schizoaffective Disorder, not by Bipolar disorder."
"What the fuck is that?"
"The love child of Schizophrenia and Bipolar. His notes say that the fact that you refer to the violent part of you as a monster is a hallucination, which is bullshit."
"How's that going to fuck with me getting out?"
"It won't if you just keep playing the game. Take your meds, participate in group, brush your teeth, choke down the nasty fucking food."
"The food's not that bad. We had chicken nuggets for lunch that I think were made with real chicken. Now if the honey mustard was real it would have been a pretty decent meal."
The doctor laughs. "What did you have for dinner?"
"Shit on a shingle," Knight answers. "Not the good chipped beef stuff. I'm pretty sure it was actually a turd on a piece of toast. I thought it was a rib at first, but then I remembered where I was. It was almost as bad as prison loaf."
"Damn. Next time I come I'll bring you some real food. Any requests?"
"Since In-N-Out isn't possible, not really."
"You look better Nick."
"Mentally I feel a lot better. I'm still sore as fuck, and being cooped up in here isn’t really helping. I can’t get any kind of treatment and it’s hard to even get in a good work out. Not to mention the previously discussed shitty food. Damn Doc I sound like a spoiled little bitch.”
“No, you sound like an elite professional athlete.”
“I don’t know about all that,” Nick says, with a smile. “I’m not sure I’m that elite or an athlete for that matter.”
“Nick I’ve watched your matches, you’re pretty damn good in the ring. You’re also pretty damn good at bashing people in the head with things, but that’s a different story.”
“Nah hitting people over the head with shit is easy. The hard part is being able to be hit with shit and keep on fighting. Since I’m too fucking stupid to stay down, I’m pretty good at doing that,” Nick says, with a chuckle.
“Do you think all of the shots to your head has anything to do with your mental health issues,” Griffith asks.
Knight pauses for a moment and lets out a long sigh. “You know I had a lot of time to think of this when I was on Gator Island, and I’m not sure. Looking back I’ve always been Bipolar, even as a kid. There are several years that I can barely remember because I was so depressed and withdrawn. I just don’t know if wrestling made it worse, but it might have had a part. All of the drinking and drugs through the years I’m sure didn’t help.”
“You don’t feel violent at all?”
“Not anymore that usual. Given that I’m in a professional combat sport I’m always going to be a little but violent, or I’m going to be a shitty professional wrestler.”
“Touche.”
“When am I getting out of here Doc?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping for tomorrow, but with Martin not here I think it’s going to delay things. My guess is Saturday.”
“That works. Gives me plenty of time to get to Texas for Sacrifice. I’m going to need time to decompress and prepare for whatever comes next.
“All I know is that it’s going to be part of the Heir to the Throne tournament. I saw that you’re one of the eight, but I honestly haven’t heard the week one matches.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Nick replies, with a shrug. “I just have to be ready to wrestle.”
“Well get some rest. I’ll fill Dr. Goode in on what’s going on and I’ll try to come see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks Doc.”
Friday 2:45 AM
Nicky woke up screaming and soaked in sweat. He could not remember the dream, but his heart was racing liked he just wrestled a sixty minute broadway. It felt like bugs were crawling all over him and he couldn’t help but twitch the keep the sensation at bay. A nurse came running into the room to check on his, it was the one he met the first morning he was in the hospital.
“You alright, honey?”
[cc33cc]“You’re still beautiful.” Nick gives her a smile.[cc33cc] “I’m alright, just a nightmare.”
“You sure you’re alright. You seem a little bit jumpy?”
“I’m alright. I just get this way sometimes, especially with the med changes the past couple of weeks.”
“OK. Just let me know if you need anything.”
6:45 AM
Nick had been asleep for less than an hour when the nurse came in to wake him up for group. The last thing he wanted to do was endure whatever stupid activity that scheduled for them that day. It turned out to be another session of everyone sit in a circle and bitch about their problems. He would have prefered the thing with the ball, but he had to play their game if he wanted to get out.
The cast of characters for this session had changed, all except for the sexy blonde that he had been avoiding all week. He loved Penny with all of his heart and honestly wanted to make that work, but after three years a guy had needs. He had turned down every single crack whore at the motel he lived in for several months. He probably had a shot with the teenaged girl he worked with at McDonald’s, but he never really noticed. This girl on the other hand was the kind of girl that had always been his kryptonite.
“...I talked to my boyfriend last night and he said he was sorry for everything. He still swears that he didn’t fuck my sister, but I’m not convinced. I really don’t know what to do.”
“Leave him,” Nick says, not real emotion in his voice. He felt like shit and didn’t have time for anyone’s bullshit today.
“Nick, remember the talking stick,” Miss Hancock admonishes him.
“We’re all adults here, why do we need a damn talking stick?”
“To keep people from interrupting others,” she snarked.
“Whatever.”
Nick stomped out and went back to his room to take a nap.
4:45 PM
Nick has slept the entire day and the nurse woke him up because the doctor was there to see him. Nick yawned and stretched and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He had no clue what time it was, but it had to be late if the doctor was already doing rounds.
He walked into the small office and say down across from Dr. Martin. The small man pushed up his glasses and looked Nick over for a moment. “I heard you had another outburst during group?”
“Sorry about that. I didn’t really sleep last night and I was cranky.”
“Why didn’t you sleep?”
“I had a nightmare and just could never get back to sleep. The flashlight shining in your face every half an hour doesn’t help any.”
“Well it’s the staff’s responsibility to make sure you’re safe.”
“I get that, but it can fuck up your sleep.”
“I’m going to raise all of your meds up to where Dr. Goode had them starting tonight. I’ll be here in the morning to see how you slept. Do you have anything else for me?”
“I don’t think so. Thank you for everything.”
Nick snarfed down dinner and for once it wasn’t horrible and then he went back to bed. Hopefully things work out and he’ll be able to leave in the morning.
7:00 AM
Knight finished breakfast and sat on the faded couch to watch TV. Wrestling was on, one of the second tier companies that were geared towards children. Some of the talent was good, if not a little raw, but they were all fucking cartoon characters. Nick had to turn the channel and he eventually found lucha libre on a spanish language channel. This made him smile, because he loved his time working in Mexico.
“Mr. Knight can I speak with you,” Doctor Martin interrupted. Nick was annoyed at the little man’s timing, but he had to play the game.
“How’s it going Doctor,” Knight asks, sitting down.
“I’m well. How are you doing?”
“The dude abides.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“You’ve never seen The Big Lebowski?”
“No. What does it mean?”
“It means that I just am.”
“That doesn’t really tell me much Mr. Knight.”
“Sorry it’s the California in me,” Nick replies.
“I see. How did you sleep last night?”
“Much better than the night before.”
“No nightmares?”
“Nope. I wasn’t even woken up by the stupid flashlights.”
“Good. If you do alright today I think you can probably get out tomorrow. How does that sound?”
“Today would be better, but tomorrow I can handle.”/color]
“Good to hear. I believe Dr. Griffith will be coming around to check on you this evening. I will be busy tonight, that’s why I am here now.”
“Thank you for everything.”
“You’re very welcome Mr. Knight.”
8:00 PM
Nick is watching some bad made for TV movie when Dr. Griffith arrives with a bag of Taco Bell. Knight can’t help but smile at his friend, because he knows that he is being tested. A test that he knew he would have no problems passing.
“You get my order right?”
“Number six with a Mountain Dew and a burrito supreme.”
“Did you remember the spork?”
“Shit I think I… no here it is.”
“You’re testing me?”
“Dr. Goode thought it would be a good idea.”
“Fuck Dr. Goode,” Nick says, laughing. “Give me my damn food.”
Nick leads his friend into the small office that Dr. Martin used to talk with patients and sat down at the table. Tearing into his food he didn’t say a word until it was all finished. “Thanks for the food. After all the shit I’ve ate this week it hit the spot. Even if they still can’t get a fucking burrito right. How can you not get sour cream all the way through it.”
“I don’t know. Do you feel like stabbing anyone with a spork right now?”
“No, but I wish you’ld grabbed me two drinks. This soda hit the spot after a week of nothing but water or juice.”
“I’m sorry. Dr. Martin tell you when you’re getting out?”
“Tomorrow. Everything has been pretty chill today so I think it will happen.”
“Excellent. Do you need me to do anything?”
“Book me a flight for tomorrow evening and find me a hotel. I hate not having time to decompress, but you got to do what you got to do.”
“You read that in a fortune cookie?”
“No your mom told me that right after…”
“I can talk Martin into keeping you,” Griffith interrupts, laughing.
“You wouldn’t do that to your favorite patient, would you? Especially with The Powers That Be fining every body.”
“No shit. I’ll get a flight booked for us and find a hotel. You have any preferences?”
“Something cheap. I spent way too fucking much on a room last week, especially after paying to fix all the shit I broke.”
“OK. I’ll be around to pick you up as soon as Martin releases you. You’ve done good this week Nick.”
“Thanks Doc.”
“I’m serious. A lot of people would not have been able to bounce back the way that you have.”
“Seriously Doc, thank you. You have no idea how much you’ve helped me out the past few months. I mean the only other person I know on the IWF roster is Gregor Winter and I haven’t had a chance to talk to him since he signed.”
“I didn’t know you knew Gregor?”
“Yeah my little brother trained him and we worked a lot of indy shows together. He’s probably the only guy in the company I would trust enough to have as my tag team partner.”
“You’re not going to like this then. The week one match ups for Heir to the Throne has been announced and you’re in a tag match.”
“Who’s my partner?”
“Almir Sayed.”
“Fuck me! Are you serious?” The doctor nods. “I know they’re going to stack the deck for Dean to win, but that’s kind of obvious isn’t it.”
“How so?”
“The guy is a fucking snake and I can’t trust him. Not to mention I fucking hate tag team matches. It’s a fucking set up.”
“I don’t know, maybe it’s random?”
“I doubt it. I need to just focus on getting out of here and worry about that later.”
“Good plan. I need to get going, I have a date with a very nice woman I met online.”
“Tender or Plenty of Fish?”
“That’s none of your business?”
“So some college coed that you met on Tender and you’re hoping to entice her into your bed with a fancy restaurant and ride in your rented beamer.”
“It’s a rented Jag thank you very much,” Griffith says, laughing.
“Well that’s even better. Have a good time.”
“I plan on it.”
Saturday 8:10 AM
Nick is sitting in the common room trying to ignore the church service being played on the television and way too high a volume. When Dr. Martin walks into the room he nearly jumped out of his seat to run to the door. “Good morning doctor.”
“You seem in a jolly humour Mr. Knight,” the doctor says, smiling for the first time Nick had ever seen.
“I’m just excited to get out of here.”
“I’m sure you are, but do you think you’re ready to leave?”
“I don’t know why not. I feel just as good as I did two weeks ago.”
“So you don’t have any plans to stop taking your meds again?”
“No. I wish I didn’t have to this time, but it was kind of a matter of life and death.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit of an exaggeration?”
“Dr. Martin, what I do is very dangerous on a normal night with a normal opponent. You add weapons into the mix and it automatically becomes way more dangerous. Give those weapons to a three hundred pound psychopath trying to take your head off and it becomes a matter of life or death.”
“You could have just not done it.”
“Now you sound like my ex-wife. Dr. Martin I know I could have just walked away, but I have bills to pay. I just bought a condo and I have a mortgage. That one match might make me enough to pay off my entire mortgage.”
“Was it worth spending this past week in the hospital?”
“That’s a question I will be asking myself for a long time. I’ll just add it to the bottom of a long list of things that I wonder about every day.”
“You are an extremely odd person Mr. Knight.”
“Spend enough time around professional wrestlers and I think you;ll find I’m relatively normal. It takes a special breed to do the things that we do night in and night out. You should ask Dr. Griffith about us sometime.”
“I very much doubt that I will ever speak with Dr. Griffith again, but I appreciate you thinking of me. I will put in the paperwork for your release. You should be ready to leave by noon.”
“Thanks, doctor. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
Martin just turns and walks away.
12:11 PM
Nick and Dr. Griffith are in a rented Jaguar F Type making their way to the Greensboro airport. Nick is watching the world go by with a big smile on his face.
“So Doc, what did you do to piss off ol’ Doc Martin?”
“You remember my date last night?”
“Yeah?”
“It was with his daughter.”
“You...no?”
“Yeah and it turns out that she still lives at home.”
Nick just cracks up laughing.
The End
Well howdy there pardner.