4 thoughts on “You’re way too beautiful girl, that’s why it’ll never work”
My first roommate in treatment was a drug salesman on drugs. He threatened to kill me every time I came close to him. A young lady was freaked out because she could not find her Bible. Crackheads banged on my door all night. Man, it was worse than Nam. But it saved my life, and now, years later, I’m glad to be alive.
Interesting. Even on the "inside", we’re on the outside. They’re different (psych units) since I’ve been in treatment, but only a little. I had suicide cases (such as myself), kids throwing their own shit at the staff (am I allowed to curse on your blog?), kids freaking out on drugs…and we got to meet with our doc for one hour a day. My doc was the resident "pin-head" but stuck by me when it came down to it. When I was there, I was younger of course (16 – 17yrs old) and participated in the daily drama every now and again. It drove my staff friends nuts because they knew I knew…ya know? But I played by the rules long enough to get the hang of what society wanted me to be, and I let medication do the rest. Sure, it (the medication) numbs me ever so sightly to the true darkenss inside my heart and my mind, but damn, at least I can talk, breathe…sit in silence and think about…nothing. At least I can go out and have a drink with my friends and not be distracted by my spiraling thoughts screaming what a piece of shit I am. And then I allow myself – on MY OWN terms – to dip into the dark abyss that is my consciousness, kapish?
John, these people at the clinic – patients, staff, whatever. They don’t want to be asked those kind of questions. They don’t want to see that side of reality. You know that! That’s how they survive. Whether it’s ignorance or being slaves to the system, that’s how they survive. Opening that door of consciousness for them…is like leaving a babe in the woods. They’ll be devoured! They are the innocents! You don’t need their validation. We are alone – but sometimes that’s a good thing. "Come the rapture, we’ll have the earth to ourselves."
Love,
Your first cousin by marriage on your dad’s side’s wife’s sister’s daughter…(BTW, sorry if my comment is long and boring…)
This is awkward and strange ? to reach out to someone with whom I have not spoken for two decades, but after reading your most recent post, I can’t NOT say something?
Twenty years ago and more, we were friends – from the Gifted Program at Montrose and Lincoln, and then off and on through jr. high and high school.
I was going through one of those ?I wonder what ever happened to?? moods a while back and found your blog. I have been ?lurking? for a while, enjoying (again) your talent and your sense of humor.
You make people smile, John, even when you don?t know you?re doing it. This world is a better place because you are in it. You have always been someone I would gladly call a friend.
I?ve learned a few things in the last 20 years. For one thing, you can never have too many people in your corner, caring about what happens to you. For another – if you have the chance to give someone kindness and compassion, do it. Don’t put it off
I?m in your corner and I care what happens to you.
When I?m hurting, I?ll take all the kind and compassionate I can get. I?m reaching out – you can reach back if you want, or not. I?ll be keeping you in my thoughts, regardless.
My first roommate in treatment was a drug salesman on drugs. He threatened to kill me every time I came close to him. A young lady was freaked out because she could not find her Bible. Crackheads banged on my door all night. Man, it was worse than Nam. But it saved my life, and now, years later, I’m glad to be alive.
Interesting. Even on the "inside", we’re on the outside. They’re different (psych units) since I’ve been in treatment, but only a little. I had suicide cases (such as myself), kids throwing their own shit at the staff (am I allowed to curse on your blog?), kids freaking out on drugs…and we got to meet with our doc for one hour a day. My doc was the resident "pin-head" but stuck by me when it came down to it. When I was there, I was younger of course (16 – 17yrs old) and participated in the daily drama every now and again. It drove my staff friends nuts because they knew I knew…ya know? But I played by the rules long enough to get the hang of what society wanted me to be, and I let medication do the rest. Sure, it (the medication) numbs me ever so sightly to the true darkenss inside my heart and my mind, but damn, at least I can talk, breathe…sit in silence and think about…nothing. At least I can go out and have a drink with my friends and not be distracted by my spiraling thoughts screaming what a piece of shit I am. And then I allow myself – on MY OWN terms – to dip into the dark abyss that is my consciousness, kapish?
John, these people at the clinic – patients, staff, whatever. They don’t want to be asked those kind of questions. They don’t want to see that side of reality. You know that! That’s how they survive. Whether it’s ignorance or being slaves to the system, that’s how they survive. Opening that door of consciousness for them…is like leaving a babe in the woods. They’ll be devoured! They are the innocents! You don’t need their validation. We are alone – but sometimes that’s a good thing. "Come the rapture, we’ll have the earth to ourselves."
Love,
Your first cousin by marriage on your dad’s side’s wife’s sister’s daughter…(BTW, sorry if my comment is long and boring…)
Drinks soon?
This is awkward and strange ? to reach out to someone with whom I have not spoken for two decades, but after reading your most recent post, I can’t NOT say something?
Twenty years ago and more, we were friends – from the Gifted Program at Montrose and Lincoln, and then off and on through jr. high and high school.
I was going through one of those ?I wonder what ever happened to?? moods a while back and found your blog. I have been ?lurking? for a while, enjoying (again) your talent and your sense of humor.
You make people smile, John, even when you don?t know you?re doing it. This world is a better place because you are in it. You have always been someone I would gladly call a friend.
I?ve learned a few things in the last 20 years. For one thing, you can never have too many people in your corner, caring about what happens to you. For another – if you have the chance to give someone kindness and compassion, do it. Don’t put it off
I?m in your corner and I care what happens to you.
When I?m hurting, I?ll take all the kind and compassionate I can get. I?m reaching out – you can reach back if you want, or not. I?ll be keeping you in my thoughts, regardless.
Beth