7/14/19 Today was the greatest day I've had in a long time. It's my 43rd birthday, but I'm stuck in a mental hospital. I'm not sure how long I've been here. They don't tell you, which is terrible for a forgetful person like me. I have a husband, who's also 43, and a son, who's 5, at home waiting for me. My husband visits me often, but when I ask why he doesn't bring my son, he always changes the subject. I don't know why he does this, but I guess I don't have the ability to find out until I get out of here. My husband's changed a lot since I was admitted here. He's lost weight, which I congratulate him for when he visits. He doesn't seem enthusiastic about it, though. Maybe he's bringing our son out for more walks while I'm away. Whatever the case, I know I don't belong here. I'm not crazy like the others who I hear yelling in the halls day and night. I comply with the doctors and take whatever they prescribe me with no issue. It's my main goal to leave here as soon as I'm allowed. I have no idea why I'm here in the first place, but my husband says it's for the best. Today, on my birthday, my husband brought a cake and finally brought our son with him. He's grown a lot since I last saw him. He was still slim, as he's always been thin as a stick. His hair has grown much darker, now dark brown when it was blond before. He never had freckles before, but now they dotted his cheeks like sprinkles tossed onto a fresh pastry. I figured he must've been spending more time in the sun. We had cake, and I spent lots of time reconnecting with my son that I hadn't seen in what felt like ages. He didn't like it whenever I called him by his name, Henry, though. He preferred Mike. I didn't care, however. I didn't care if he wanted to be called Henry, Mike, or even Bartholomew. I was just so elated to finally see my boy again. But the most peculiar thing happened when they left later on that day. I gave my husband and Henry each a goodbye kiss before they headed out of the door. "Bye, Henry!" I called out. My husband waved in response, but our boy didn't respond. Silly me, I remembered. He prefers Mike. "Bye, Mike!" I called out with a chuckle. "Bye, Grandma!" my son called back. "Oh, you are too funny!" I said with a smile as they walked out the door. My boy seemed happy, but my husband looked troubled. I would've stopped him, but he left too quickly. 11/3/19 It's been a few months, according to this journal. I don't know why, but my husband and boy haven't visited since.