After my suicide attempt in 2016, I spent some time in the inpatient psychiatric facility of the Durham VA, colloquially known as the “9th Floor.” It is called the 9th floor because, well, it’s on the 9th floor. Plus “9th floor” is way easier to say than “inpatient psychiatric treatment facility” and it is more respectful than calling it the nut hospital or loony bin. Whatever you call it, it is where I went and where I stayed instead of jail after my breakdown and subsequent accident. I went partially to heal physically, and partly to heal mentally. And I went primarily because a judge ordered me to.