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.