My Guardian Angel came to visit me in a Mental Hospital

Penn Mar was a county mental hospital where they threw people without insurance. In other words, poor people like me and a lot of them were homeless. It was all a routine at Penn Mar, just like college hospital: breakfast time, vitals time, group time, medication time, and cigarette break. I hated it, and the worst part was that I was still delusional. A couple of times during the day, they’d let us go outside for a cigarette break and activity time. I’d go outside and get some fresh air. The only thing was that just as I was inhaling the air of freedom, it was time to go back in. I used to look out at the world through the bars of Penn Mar. I’d watch the cars drive by in the street. I was caged in, looking out at a world that was not ready for me; it was a world that I could never be a part of. I felt so lonely.

I thought, “What’s become of me? Why did this happen to me? I’m sitting here alone in a mental hospital. I’m secluded from society. I could never be part of them again. I’m the crazy person that you all pity. Look at me. I’m sheltered with the homeless. I’m part of them. I understand them. They understand me. We’re just poor people who are hurting. We’re people who lost their way and their sanity.

I sang everyday. I spent hours walking up and down the halls singing Christmas songs. One day as I was singing, a tall African-American guy walked over to me and told me I had a beautiful voice. I told him that I would praise God anywhere. His name was Kyan. He had a strong build and a threatening appearance. He had that kind of, “Don’t mess with me or I’ll beat you up” look.

When I asked him what he was in for, he told me that he beat up a bus driver. He said he got so angry because he would not take his transfer ticket, so he just started beating him up until the police arrived and arrested him. They brought him to Penn Mar. He said he couldn’t control his temper.

It was amazing to me that with other people he was so violent but with me, he was so sweet and gentle. He protected me. He always guarded me. He said that I shouldn’t trust anyone. He saw the innocence in my eyes. I’d just walk up to all the patients and tell them things like, “God bless you” or “Jesus loves you.” I’d approach patients who looked like they were hurting and asked them if they needed prayer.

One day as I was walking down the hall, I looked into a dormitory with the door open. I noticed a middle-aged woman sitting on her bed. Her long, blond, tangled hair drooped over her eyes. She was talking to herself and she made expressions of terror. I went in to her room and asked her if she was OK. She said that she heard voices and they wanted to hurt her. I sat next to her.

“Don’t be afraid, God is with you. He will never leave you nor forsake you. God will always love you.” I caught her hand and prayed with her. She began to cry and I reached over and hugged her. She said that she never knew that God loved her too.

I made friends at Penn Mar. We’d sit around the outdoor table and share stories that no one else believed. There was Ana, a girl in her teens. She wore a long, black dress with black boots. She had a dark gothic look but we didn’t let her appearance fool us because she was filled with God’s spirit. She must have been hurting a lot before God enlightened her, because she was in for attempted suicide. She had huge scars on her wrists that made me wonder what could’ve been so horrible as to cause her to mutilate herself in such an awful way.

She never talked about why she tried to do it. She just focused on the positive. She was pregnant and she carried a baby who would be a prophet chosen by God. She said that an angel came to her boyfriend and gave him the news. I admired her so much. She was going to be the mother of a chosen child. Surely, my encounters with angels could never amount to the glory that God had blessed her with.

Then there was Luke, a tall, thin, young man with long locks. He wore old jerseys and shorts. I’d often play basketball out in the courts with Luke and Kyan. He said he was Luke Skywalker and he was going to play basketball with the Lakers. I was much impressed by him and told him not to forget me when he was famous. I didn’t think he’d ever forget me because God told us that we were going to get married. God came in the form of an older African-American man. He came to Penn Mar to spread the gospel and inform us of our destiny.

One afternoon he called Luke and me to the living room, where he sat on the blue vinyl couch with his eyes closed in meditation. We got on our knees and began to worship him so that he would foretell our future. He told us that we were going to get married and we were going to save the world. He would sit with me outside during our cigarette break and I would fall to my knees and worship him.

Melissa came to visit me one afternoon. She came to look for me. I was outside worshiping the African-American God. He turned to her, “Hey, can you go to the liquor store and get me some cigarettes?”

Melissa insisted that he wasn’t God and that only upset me. I said, “What kind of friend are you?” I told her to go away. At the early stages of my mental illness, I became very defensive about my delusions. I wanted everyone to believe me and when somebody told me otherwise, I’d get angry.

When my mom and Rosa came to visit me, I went over to hug them. My mother brought me everything that I asked for. I’d asked for a blow drier, lotion, makeup, clothes, and shoes and she brought them all. She’d hand me the bag full of my things and tell me that I was so vain. I wanted to look good even in a mental hospital. I had to check in everything she brought me to the nurse’s station and I was only able to put on makeup and blow-dry my hair under supervision. The nurses took my shoelaces away because they feared that I’d hang myself with them or something, but it still meant the world to me that my mom would bring them.

As I talked to my mom and Rosa, I told her that I was going to marry Luke. “Mari, don’t say that,” said Rosa. “It’s not true.”

I got mad. “Yes it is! That’s my future husband!”

They looked like I was breaking their hearts, but I did not know why. They were so hurt as I yelled at them for not believing me, and they just ended up going home. Ana and Kyan were sitting at the bench and table outside. They were watching. I walked up to them and they asked me why my mother and sister had left. I told them that it was because they were non-believers. They understood how bad it felt when people didn’t believe you. It happened to them all the time.

Penn Mar was a little different than most hospitals I had been in. One of the things that was different was that we took female group showers. My mom had brought me my favorite strawberry bubble bath and I prepared my warm bath water with soft, pink bubbles. Then I went to my room to get my toothbrush. I didn’t want to make too much noise because my roommate was asleep. She never got up. I never even saw her face. She was always sleeping. I went back to the bath area, opened the curtain, and a chubby patient with long, brown, curly hair was lying in my bathtub enjoying my bubbles with her head back in the water.

I got mad at first but then I laughed. Maybe she needed it more than me. I waited in line for my turn. I was aside Ana. When it was my turn, I took off my hospital gown and stood before Ana. She took off her long, black dress and she had cuts and scars all over her body. I turned my head. It was a gruesome sight. She looked like she’d slashed herself with a knife all over her body. I felt so bad for her. What would make her do that? I didn’t say anything about it. I knew that she didn’t like talking about it. All I could do was be there for her and be her friend.

As the days went by, most of my mental hospital friends got released before me, except Kyan. I’d spend most of my time walking up and down the halls singing. One day as I walked up and down the halls in broad daylight singing, a short, fat, Asian patient with long, greasy hair and dandruff walked up to me and asked me to pray for him. He held my hand and took me to his room. Of course I’d pray with him. I’d pray with anyone. When I went to his room, I got on my knees, closed my eyes, and began to pray. My mind often drifted away and it drifted in that moment. I felt him rub his warm body against mine. My eyes were closed in prayer. He began to touch me all over my body. He was caressing my breasts and rubbing my thighs. “What’s going on?” I thought. He started kissing me. I opened my eyes in terror and saw his small eyes ogling me. I was disgusted. I pushed him off me and ran out crying. I looked for Kyan. He was standing in the line for dinner.

I told him everything that happened and he asked me who did it. I pointed at the patient and he reached over and tried to beat him up. “You asshole! You fucking bastard! I’ll kill you!” he yelled.

I got between them and tried to break up the fight but the male nurse, Philippe, came over and grabbed me tightly by the arm.

“Are you being a troublemaker?” he asked me. He pulled out his keys and opened the door of the Time Out Room.

“Get in there! Maybe this way you’ll stay out of trouble.”

He pushed me in. I fell to the floor weeping.

“Why, Lord? Why? I’m not strong enough.”

“Let me out! Let me out! I didn’t do anything!” I banged on the door, screaming. He threw me in there without my dinner. I was tossed in there like a dog. It was dark in there. There was a small camera in the corner of the ceiling. It was a tiny room with one bed and no blanket. I had to use the bathroom, but there was none. I pulled down my panties and relieved myself on the floor. When I was done, I pulled my panties up and covered my cold body under my hospital gown. I began sobbing, “Oh, God, why do you allow these things to happen? Why do you watch them punish the innocent? Why do you watch me cry and do nothing about it? What is your reason?”

I fell asleep with my tears. In the morning, I felt the sun shining on my face through the small, glass window. I got up from my bed and fell to my knees. I looked out the small window. I was weeping loudly.

“Why have you forsaken me, Lord? Why do you leave me here alone? Still, Lord, I’ll praise your name even in the pits of my desolation, but please have mercy on me. Give me peace. Make the pain go away. Take my tears. Warm my heart. Humble my sad spirit.”

I looked out of the window. I gazed into the light. There were dewdrops on the window. And there, I saw my miracle in a hallucination, but my vision of hope was like stars forming a beautiful picture in the night skies. Out of dewdrops I saw a vision of a girl on her knees praying and there behind her stood an angel with huge wings. I stared at the vision with amazement. How could dewdrops create such a masterpiece? Back then, I didn’t know that it was a hallucination. I thought it was a miracle and it gave me strength. I saw the symbolism about it—after the rain the sun comes up and dewdrops are all that are left. The image of the dewdrops helped me see that I was not alone.

Now I had to get out. I started banging on the doors and a nurse came over, but he couldn’t find the key to let me out. Another nurse came over and finally opened the door. I went to go see Kyan and he told me I had to tell my case worker, but when I did, he just acted like it was no big deal. He said that he’d tell that patient to stay away from me. I don’t think he believed me. Who’d believe a crazy girl? This incident became a trauma that I simply couldn’t erase from my mind. It would be a bad memory but by the grace of God I knew I was never alone. My guardian angel was there with me and God had mercy on me. Now fifteen years later I still draw that hallucination of a girl praying with an angel behind her, locked in the time out room. Sometimes I think it was not a hallucination but a vision of hope, a miracle, and God just wanted to tell me that He has never left me or had forsaken me.

“For He shall give His angels charge over you,

To keep you in all your ways.

In their hands they shall bear you up,

Lest you dash your foot against a stone.” Psalm 91:11-12