Insanity

Written May 26, 2006

Insanity

Again with the stupidity, over and over we write the same things in brave “new” ways, the same boring shit, piling up in less-than-intelligent brains until it spills over and forms its own tiny shit kingdom. Where all the crappy ideas go to live and find happy little lives. Well if its shit you want… here goes dearest reader.

Rain, the gray streaky kind, the type that makes everything look like an impressionist painting, all blurry and slurred. Streaming in rivulets down the windows of the science lab. Today we are doing what we always do, staring blankly at the not-so-white white board. I’m out of money, no lunch today…not that I really wanted lunch, I don’t eat meals, I eat food constantly so meals are just unimportant rituals of the civilized world.

I am surrounded on all sides by hicks, stinky sweaty chew-chomping hicks. They laugh in that insanely annoying chuckle ripping open the silence that I was so quietly occupying. I want to tell them exactly what they can do with their cute ideas and idiotic humor. Conformists, the lot of them…. But really that is unfair, since truly there is no way to not conform. Reality is only made by the masses. My world could be considered a reality if I got enough people to say and think it was real. Well at least all the voices in my head think I live in reality, their reality.

In my house things have to be done quietly, or you are likely to be punished. Food is made by silent fingers; and the soft padding of feet is not even heard anymore. The dogs are reserved, scared beasts that hide under tables and couches. Coughing is suppressed, and sick people are generally quarantined to the back of the house. Anger and sadness are something that only the leader of this prison may express.

So it is not surprising that sitting here in my cell, there are no sobs or sniffles coming from me…the tears just roll silently down my cheeks making my eyes puffy and my nose runny and stuffy at the same time… a headache is coming on but it doesn’t matter. Nothing really matters anymore. Or this is how I am thinking at the moment. Really all this fuss is over some stupid childish girlishness, oh how it sucks being female. I find myself prohibited from seeing my brothers this year… they came down from their city to see me. They come once or twice every year. But this year I find that I have been expressly bad, and the guards won’t let me out, not even for a day. My eyes hurt a little and I can’t stand my nose. I lay back on my bed thinking that maybe it will take some of the pressure off my head. Mistakes, too many mistakes, driving too fast and getting caught, letting homework go to the four winds, giving in…over and over. And now another year will go by without my brothers… another year of hate, and despair.

Look at me, how pathetic, I am obsessed with myself to the point of such intense self hate and self pity that I am making myself ill with the nastiness of it all. I think I will take some more Tylenol the problem is I don’t remember how much I have already taken… it has been a lot though today… but I need more anyway I have a headache…

I am getting tired, and I think I have a hole somewhere in my skin because the blood is draining out as silently as my tears, my fingers are very white and I can only imagine what my face looks like. I would try to sit up but I think I might pass out.

This will all end with a bottle of something, my mind is telling me even now… all the tears will just go away with the memory if I can only sneak into the kitchen cabinet…

I am losing it, my mental stability is slowly slipping away with my ability to speak. I can be fine and normal one day, thinking in full sentences or at least full words, things string together nicely in short meaningful structures… as if I actually know what I mean. And then in a matter of seconds things slur together and I find myself saying crazy things like “Has anyone smelled this radish?…this radish definitely needs a good smelling” …wait did I really say that or is my mind tricking me. I have to take myself through all the steps of the insanity check list. First of all where is the radish? …. secondly who gives a fuck if the radish has been smelled, radishes are in fact for eating not smelling…. Usually by this point I realize that I haven’t yet spoken out loud and am only slightly off the proverbial rocker. My mind has its days. Days when it travels in circles rather than straight lines. Sometimes when I don’t watch it very carefully it likes to jump down the nearest hole or crack in the peeling white walls and leave my body alone with itself for hours….

Did you know that insanity is a worsening condition? First it starts with the voices… voices that normal people are scared of and try to push away….but eventually you give in… always you give in… always. And after the voices comes the meetings, held secretly in your head (usually at night) in these meetings the voices come together and decide things…like what to do with you, and where to leave the body. Then starts the blood… the voices inevitably like to see your blood…. And like I said eventually you give them what they want… no matter how long you say no for …. You will sometime say yes. So you cut or burn or in some way open the barrier that separates your blood vessels from the air… and that is where the true mess begins.

I am sleep deprived; I’ve been sitting up nights staring at the blank wall. The fish in the tank are dying off slowly and I am to out of it to care. I have my own private set of natural drugs that are the evil twins to endorphins. They fill my brain with confusion and in my momentary lapse of judgment I am apt to let the voice take control. I know I am losing it slowly in little pieces…my sanity is escaping and I haven’t the sense to care.

My favorite place to sit and think is outside on the roof of my chicken coop. There are two levels to the roof one with a gradual incline, good for sleeping or daydreaming, and one higher up the building with a steeper ascent. I go to the roof for everything, to write or to watch the world, to sleep and dream. Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night I take my sleeping bag and a pillow and crawl out my window and sneak up to the chicken house roof, to watch the stars, I get the best dreams ever when I sleep there. I dream of flying, of simply spreading my arms and soaring through the sky, the feeling is one that no amount of words on a page can express, a complete and utter release of everything, losing control, a sensation unparralled by anything… better than the greatest orgasm, or the best chocolate cake. It is only at night that I can escape my mind and fly away to the spiraling stars, trailing along behind me the thin cord of conscious that connects me to my body… someday, someday soon I will find a way to snap that thin little thread…and when I do… I will fly on forever.

Court is in session. he calls the meeting deep in the darkest room of my head, his minions come at his summons fighting with each other already, I don’t want to watch because I know what will happen next, but I to am helpless against his will. I look down on the scene as they lead in the fourth member of the meeting…this one is a joke because it comes in sniveling and moping about and grovels at the feet of the other three but particularly at the foot of he. I like to call this one Self Pity but really I think she is more than that… she is me…. Or part of me, and so watching what is about to unfold is all the more hideous. he sits in the shadows, he is always in the dark, never speaking or showing his face but you can feel his presence saturating the air and it holds a mental chuckle cold and evil. Self is led to the center and she begins to stutter about how sorry she is for trying to take control, for doing things wrong… before long they are on her, shredding her ripping and beating her as her screams echo through my head and I cant pull my eyes away because he is holding me there watching me in my pain as I watch them continue with the mauling until she is to weak to scream, and they leave her to bleed. With a sigh I let out the breath I had been holding as he leaves me go. I run down to help her… but she has already gone…fled to her hole where she will nurse her wounds in bitter silence alone… and filled with the self hate that has been implanted under her skin as soundly and painfully as the beating… my fingers touch the blood on the gray floor, it all begins to melt away and I can feel myself slipping back together in to her ..into one. And we cry.

I don’t cry… not openly in front of people or in bed at night… once a month or so all the pent up hate and tears fill my capacity to hold them and they bleed out of my eyes and arms and legs and everywhere and I lie in the bathtub or on my bed and just let all the agony sweep through me convulsing my muscles and ripping through organs pushing its way to the inflamed skin and seeping out into the air… I have lost the ability to cry normally… I have lost the ability to live.

Don’t look at me that way; did I say that this would be a funny story on how chickens lay eggs? No I did not! In fact I didn’t say anything at all you just barged in and read my shit, and now you want to complain that I am scary or sick… well bite off I haven’t invited you into my world… this is NOT some silent cry for help… this is me giving you a taste of how life is… how it all goes down, this is me letting it go … and not giving a damn … don’t tell me to calm down or straighten up. You just leave me the shit alone. When the baby comes it will all get better, things will be down to strictly physical pain and love… no stupid mental voices are gunna get to me then, because I will have my own private baby and he will love me and need me and it will all go away … far away. Who am I kidding there is no baby… there never was…and prolly wont ever be one…I’m to unstable to weak to have my own baby. Don’t read my story unless you have finally brought yourself to understand that it doesn’t matter, that nothing in the world matters, if you can handle that thought, then you can handle me…. Or you can try anyway…

This is how it happened.

I snapped. There was to much pressure on my skull and it simply let go and broke like an over drawn bow string, ripping apart the fabric of the system tearing a hole in the suffocating game. I was 14 and I decided to talk, for the first time in a long time… and I opened my mouth and it all left my head in one big “whoosh” and I was changed, for the first time I experienced this change, and I have spent the last 3 years trying to find what I lost in that first exhale, searching the sky for that tiny bit of myself that escaped in the confusion… but its gone… and its not coming back.

“I have never been raped. … or molested either for that matter, or abused in anyway. All the shit that I regret having done was done of my own free will.” I have to make this statement over and over again to my school counselor because she has seen the slits and scars in my arms and the pretty designs on my legs… I should tell her about the time the man stayed in my brothers room when I was 15 and how I plastered my little girl body all over him in hopes of losing my virginity, and how in the end he kept his conscious clean and only jammed his whole arm into me and ran his filthy tongue over everything I own… yeah that should just cream her Twinkie. … don’t worry though I wont say anything I’ll just smile and nod and pretend that the people in my head aren’t screaming obscenities at you and having one massive mosh to the sound of my heart beat…

No no don’t worry dear I only took 30 of them this time… it wont show for days.