Sunday, May 29, 2011

Spring 1999

 Reese

I just wanted to help. I really thought if I tried talking to the doctor he'd understand better. Instead of trying to shut us up with Risperdal he'd maybe get that we're not trying to fuck up her life. Not all of us. That's what Pastor R and Pat and Charlie think anyway. I'm pretty sure just  being fucks up her life but I'm scared to disappear. The drugs make us feel, I don't know, not disconnected but less. It's like feeling like I'm nothing but a wisp of fog and the drugs might burn us into nothingness. And they're making her sick.

It was kinda pointless, trying to talk to this guy. I should know better. Everytime I try to do something good it gets screwed up. I'm sorry if I just made it worse.
It's not like there's a doctor out there who even gets it. I tried explaining the cutting too but I swear it's like I scared him. All he wanted to talk about was hospitals and groups and other crap that never helped before. He's afraid I'm going to kill her. I'm not the one who wants to do that. he doesn't know much about it but I was stupid to think if I talked to him maybe he'd try to learn instead of just trying to get rid of us. He's probably just going to give her more drugs now.
I tried to help her and it's probably just going to make things worse. I mean I was scared shitless but he looked like he was afraid I might jump up and stab him or something.
I should've known and now it's probably going to be worse. Everything I try gets screwed up. I don't know why I try.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

1984

You see a paper clip on the floor. You take a quick look around to see if Staff are watching then drop the book in your hands and pick up the paper clip and hide it under the book. It's not much but you're getting desperate in this place. Someone tried to run away before you came here and so everyone is on "Sharps Restriction". You're making do until they allow people to use the make-up and other dangerous objects they keep locked away. You came prepared this time with blades hidden in useful places. Next time you'll find a way to slip them into book bindings instead of only the items they restrict.

It's been a couple of days. Your right hand is broken and no one has bothered to look at it. You know they've noticed because they make snide comments but it won't get treated if that means acknowledging what they say is attention seeking. They don't realize you only use punching the wall when something more private is too hard to find. For awhile you chewed the inside of your mouth to hamburger but when it made it hard for her to speak you stopped so they wouldn't figure it out. You're surprised they don't know since they look in your mouth every time you take the stupid pills they give twice a day.

It was easier before you got sent to the hospital. No one paid enough attention to know how much you can do. Clothes hide so much. It's a good thing you had only used the arms in the weeks before you came here or they might have figured out your secret during the strip search. Open wounds on your stomach and legs would have given you away.

They were so angry when they locked you in the Quiet Room and you came back out without most of the skin on your arm. That was a triumph because they think they can stop you. You don't care they don't believe the stories about things happening that aren't remembered. She doesn't know about you and you don't plan to tell her.