split mind disease part three
“Genetics,” the nurse says.
i say, “Grandfather had it.”
“Birth trauma,” the nurse says.
i say, “Two months premature.”
“Drugs,” the nurse says.
i say, “No thanks, I have some.”
The nurse stares.
i say, “Do I get therapy?”
“You can go to AA.” the nurse says.
i say, “do I see a psychologist.”
“No,” the nurse says.
i say, “What about gestalt psychology? Aren’t there different elements to this illness that need to be dealt with.”
“What’s gestalt psychology?” the nurse says.
i say, “something I read on wikipedia.”
“Take your meds,” the nurse says.
i say, “they make me really sleepy yet highly agitated.”
“If you were a diabetic, would you refuse your insulin?” the nurse says.
i say, “would insulin make me really sleepy yet highly agitated?”
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” the nurse says.
She turns into five hundred and thirty nine mice and runs beneath the door. I steal some kleenex off her desk and leave the office.
Loud dance music plays in the hallway of the outpatient centre. A conga line turns around the corner led by an enthusiastic support worker, followed by five patients who are conga-ing sarcastically and making “please kill me” faces.
i close my eyes and try to turn into a wolf so i can eat the enthusiastic support worker. It doesn’t work, so i join the sarcastic conga line until it’s time for a smoke break.
Three feet of snow on the ground and minus 40 temperature make it difficult to smoke without freezing to death.
i say, “it’s cold. i should leave this town.”
“Wait for spring,” an outpatient says.
“Yeah, spring,” an outpatient wearing a black peacoat says.
i say, “spring.”
The sky is grey but I can see two suns floating. Only one can be seen with your eyes open, but the second one appears with your eyes closed. It makes a red aura on the front of your eyelids.
Originally published at www.dcsross.com.