Here’s a tip for if you ever want to kill yourself with expired prescription medication, before you start, ring the poisons hotline, they’ll let you know whether or not if those dosages in those combinations will be fatal, because you don’t want to mess this up. You don’t want to find out later that you spent two day dropping in and out of consciousness, stinking of piss, until door to door Christians call the police.
I meet Andy that first day I’m there, while under High Supervision at Nepean Hospital. I’m totally out of it, sitting in the day room with my body feeling like it’s made of lead. He sits next to me and tells me stories of how the Nurses are always messing up the medications, always losing files and important documents like eviction notices and court summonses. Last week a patent with schizophrenia was checked out on a weekend release, and they mess up the medication, replacing his Clozapine with Adderall; he says if you do that to a schizophrenic it can really mess them up. The guy talked non-stop for eight hours and then barricaded himself in a public toilet for three days until police were able to force entry.
Andy is going to be my best friend for the next eighteen months; he has wealthy parents and is obsessed with serial killer trivia. He also saved me from Jeffrey.
When I’m introduced to Jeffrey he has an erection like a tent pole in his tracksuit pants. He's looking at me with this lustful, doped-up grin. He’s my roommate the nurse says. At night I fall asleep hearing him masturbate.
Jeffrey’s about six foot tall, mid twenties and looks like he used to be athletic, but illness and drugs have turned him grey and thin. Amphetamines have reduced his immune response and sores have appeared all over his skin. His muscles are sinuous and his veins collapsed. He has a tendency to linger, just to the side of people and not say a word. He is missing his left hand; there’s just a round pointy stump at the end of his arm. He says his mother cut it off to punish him.
On the third night, I’m lying there in my boxers, sweating from the summer heat. I’m almost asleep but I hear him, I hear his breathing. His breathing is strained and wheezy. Then his hand is on me, moving up my thigh, fumbling towards my crutch. The freak is on me, his stump against my neck and his other hand fastened on my crotch. I’m yelling and fighting but I can’t get him off, he’s got me pinned and he’s ripping down my boxer shorts. He is wheezing his foul breath on my neck and he positions himself behind me to push his cock inside. But his weight is lifted and he is off me and crashed to the floor.
There stands Andy, my saviour, my knight in striped pyjamas, his puppy dog face alight with excitement.
The nurses find me in a rage, stomping on Jeffrey’s head with my bare feet.