Chapter Seven - The Staff Divide

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Staff Divide

THEY WEAR BADGES. You wear wristbands. That’s the first difference.

The second is harder to see — but you feel it in everything.

There are layers to the staff. A quiet hierarchy.

At the top are the psychiatrists — rarely seen, rarely questioned. They hold the power to diagnose, to medicate, and to release. You might meet with one for ten minutes a week. They’ll nod, ask about your sleep, maybe increase your dosage. Their word carries weight you’ll never match.

Then come the therapists — if you're lucky enough to have one. They run groups, lead one-on-ones, and ask questions with soft voices and steady hands. Some care. Some don’t. Some are new. Some are jaded. You learn who listens and who just takes notes.

Below them are the nurses — the ones with the meds, the scanners, the keys. They enforce the schedules, the charts, and the protocol. Some treat you like a human. Some treat you like a liability. You learn which nurse is on shift before you ask how your day is going.

And then there are the techs — psychiatric aides, mental health workers, guards in all but name. They monitor the unit. They control the remote. They decide if you go outside. They break up fights. They make jokes. They disappear for hours. They stand too close. They check the bathroom door every five minutes.

Each staff member is a coin flip.

Some are kind. Some are cruel.
Some talk to you like a child.
Some talk to you like a threat.

You’re not allowed to touch them — not even a handshake. They’re not supposed to touch you either, unless you’re a danger. Then the gloves come on.

You don’t know their real names.
They know everything about you.

They read your file. They pass notes about your mood. They decide when you’ve earned a privilege or lost one. They determine if you’re ready for discharge, or if you need another week of “observation.”

And the divide grows.

They go home at the end of their shift.
You stay.

They lock the doors behind them.
You listen for the click.

You learn that here, power doesn’t have to shout. It just has to hold the keys.