The very thought of being in the psychiatric ward was not a pleasant one. When I was thrown into the padded van, a deep sense of failure washed over me. Weakness for an impossible love ultimately landed me in a place I absolutely dreaded. The psychiatric ward is not an environment conducive to a creative mind. I was strapped tightly into a straitjacket and have been left alone with only my thoughts for hours at a time. When I thought all was lost, Gunner shows up. My straitjacket comes off, paper and pencils are in my hands once again and a new creative flame is ignited. I can deal with this now.