»
Main Forums
»
Passions in Prose
»
Part 11 - A Personal Manifesto
| Passions in Prose |
|
Part 11 - A Personal Manifesto |
|
|
Endlessecho Member
since 2003-09-05
Posts 398I live within myself |
PART 11 I looked out across the town, small buildings and smaller people. My eyes took in the young ones, wondering about the days when they would’ve been home this late at night being forced to finish their homework and eat their vegetables. The light turns green and I place my foot down further. My car carries me toward my home. The darkness settles over me and brings with it peace. The streetlights shine. When the cell phone rings near me, I dread to answer it. “Abby, Mom’s in the hospital.” My foot rises slightly from the pedal, but I continue moving my head to the music, “mental or regular?” “Mental. She had a breakdown.” I’m never quite sure what my family means by breakdown. Did she spaz out? Have a panic attack? My sister was in the hospital before for not being able to catch her breath and collapsing. Did she fall apart, unable to stop crying or screaming or living? Did she talk about killing herself? Did she actually try to? “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” My eyes following the straight path home, but my car turns right toward the hospital. I remember back to when I was younger. All the conversations about how she would never fit in; never be normal. All the times she’s told me she’s wanted to end it all; finish it. I remember back. --- Pulling into the hospital parking lot, I rehearse the scene. I imagine myself being the strong one for my family, handling the situation. But, my oldest sister will take care of that. That’s her role. I try to imagine being overcome with emotion, scared and worried. But, I’m not comfortable with emotion. My other sister, Tara, will be upset and emotional, but she’ll crack jokes to ease the tension. I’ll fade into the background, helping out where needed, floating in and out of each group and scene. I watch people as I enter the hospital. I look at the groups scattered here and there, some solemn, some smiling. I wonder what it would be like to be part of that family or this one. I wonder what my role would be; if I would be a different person. Maybe I’d fit in better with them. Would I still be me? Back to Freud: your genes or your environment? I wonder that a lot. What did he decide in the end? I’ve always thought it was a balance, a little bit of both. But, that’s because that’s the easiest answer; always choose the middle ground and you’ll be close enough to jump to the right side when it manifests itself. I say now that environment plays the biggest role. The people around you are always pressing in on your mold; changing and forming you. You change to fit a scene; the constant ever-present scenes common to your family, friends and home. I reach the third floor. I don’t even remember the elevator ride. As the doors open, I see my family sitting on couches and chairs; men, women, kids, babies. Our semi-annual family reunion. They look up as I walk out of the elevator. My cousins run to hug me, offering me vending machine goodies. I decline. I never seem to have much of an appetite in hospitals. I sit next to my sister. “What happened?” I always get vague answers from them. “She couldn’t handle it anymore. She just needs to stay here awhile. She needs to get some rest.” It’s that simple. That’s all this is, just a place to rest. Mental hospitals are my family’s spas. They see them simply as a way to get away; a vacation of sorts. Do you know how easy it is to check yourself into a mental hospital? I’ve learned. My family specializes in frequent visitations. I dislike hospitals, psychologists, psychiatrists, therapists, counselors and whatever other names these so-called experts of the mind call themselves. We need experts of the heart and soul. Forget the mind; that will heal on it’s own. |
||
| © Copyright 2004 Endlessecho - All Rights Reserved | |||
skyshine 
since 2002-02-07
Posts 3058Beneath the northern stars |
I'd love to see this one continued, or for you to write more with the same people. There's a lot of potential in especially this part of the manifesto.  ~sky Hold on, if you feel like letting go |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
