a hug for show,
a demonstration to the neighbors.
a voice I found,
but learned was not mine.
adolescents was for learning,
I learned how to cope With
what those meds didn’t handle,
I certainly did that on my own.
of course, my ways of coping are/were “unacceptable”.
the first mental hospital I was in was torn down.
i went and took a piece of it after and almost got arrested.
years later, I tattooed with a guy that’d been there too…
Nevada, Missouri. Heartland hospital.
They always name them things like that; non-threatening.
i wasn’t even cutting yet.
my room mate was twice my age and half my weight.
being underage, I was surrounded with behavioral and problematic CHILDREN.
all joking aside, “I threw myself out of moms car because she wouldn’t give me a sucker…”.
thats what our groups were about In there.
they even had a mixer for the inpatients and residential patience.
a cute residential patient asked me to dance…
not even a minute into the song, before I could even speak to him, he said,
“I’m going to throw up” and jetted off. Granted, I have a PhD. In psychology, but even now, I can’t explain why or how, but that moment set me over that teetering point. the one that I was on and trying to decide which direction to fall. Yep, as stupid and trivial it is, a residential patient I’d never see again, picked it for me.
ive put up photos, I know I’m not hard on the eyes, but I can’t look at mirrors, lose enough weight, study enough fighting styles (which is just as ridiculous, since I’m a Buddhist), tattoo enough of me, you name it…I can’t change enough. I will probably never be able to, because at that precise moment in my development, all I wanted was someone, anyone,to give a shit without being related to me or medically obligated. I think I was 12.
I’ve been looking for groups out here, not AA or NA, Because let’s face it, i would only be looking for connections. But I’ll be damned if I can fine one with someone besides me, under 60…discouraged. So I cut. I not happy about it, I’d made it a year. But fuck! What’s the alternative?
the groups out here are geriatric. Normally, I adore the older crowd.
However, when I’m there with ice dripping down my legs,
since that was recommended by a therapist to detour the cutting,
but all I’m hearing is that one man telling us all about his med complaints,
then the other person there, a woman, complaining that she’s getting old…
one has to wonder if one in is the correct place…
“is this the mental health group?”
“yes, do you have a diagnosis you’d like to share?” Answered the “leader”.
“not one, specifically, but I have several diagnonsenses I’d be delighted to share…”
“please take a seat”…says ‘her’.
by the end of the hour I’d received zero help for my reasons for attending…but I’d dished out more information than the doctors seeing them had. So, I suppose, I helped them…but I couldn’t wait to get home, be alone, burn some ganja, and reflect. I just want to know why I don’t get paid to sit in these groups. If they don’t help me emotionally, maybe the should financially.
im sure I have some more pretty words coming out soon. I just need to gather myself first. I’m…_______________________.
(fill in the blank? I’m open to suggestions).