CHAPTER 20: SUTURE


The American Dream…

Meet a prince. Live happily ever after. A house, two cars and three car garage… The big decision… To buy a mini-van or an SUV… Two and half kids and PTA meetings... A free toaster with the new checking account... Marking the passing of time by the changing of the lawn ornaments… Mortgages, car loans, utilities, groceries, new clothes for the kids because they’re growing like weeds… Flu shots and Oprah Spiritualism... The supermarket magazines telling me how to make a connection with my soul mate… that stranger who made a lifelong vow to me.

The American Lie…

You can be anything you want to be. You can do anything you want to do. The answer to any social situation is: Just Be Yourself. All men are created equal. Just Do it. Drugs are not the answer. We are one. Music Television. Women are not treated as second class citizens. Feed Your Craving. We’re not brainwashing you. Have a coke and a smile. You’ve got a friend in Pennsylvania. I wouldn’t lie to you. Have it your way. You’re in good hands. Lose 7 lbs in 7 days. I love you.

Life cruises by with regular commercial breaks to mark the time. Every once in a while the sun comes up and goes down. There’s nothing I can do to stop it.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to be healthier and happier and well on my way to… what, again? I see Mary once a month and we really don’t talk about anything. How can we? The visits are only ten minutes long. How do I feel? Have I found a job? What am I doing with my spare time? Do I feel like killing myself? That’s about it. That’s all we have time for.

Basically, are you crazy? Yes or No? Let’s adjust your medication.

At first it may sound incompetent of her, but in actuality it’s all very nice of Mary, because I lost my insurance. I don’t even know how. I’ve been so out of it for so long. The simplest way that I can say it is that Family Medical and Leave Act and Worker’s Compensation is very hazy when it comes to mental illnesses. The job went first and the insurance went next. I wasn’t around to file for extended coverage. Can I fight this? Sure. Just let me reach into my deep pockets and pull out enough money for a lawyer… whoops, that’s right, I’m broke.

It’s all gone… no more paycheck, no more co-pays, and no more prescription plans. So, Mary is basically doing everything for me for free. She said she was going to take a more psychiatric than psychological approach. Or is it the other way around? Either way, it’s the cheapest way. She doesn’t charge me for the visit and she gives me samples of medication.

Depakote confusion.

I don’t know why I should wander numb and blind with no direction. I have no feelings, and I have no mind. But something still compels me to do something. I guess I’m not happy unless I’m actively screwing up my life.

Maybe I should go out and make new friends. Then turn myself into their carbon copy. I’ll be one of those girls who look like they went to a sweater sale together. Maybe I should get a butterfly, dolphin, or gecko tattoo… Or get an anklet. Maybe I’ll dye my hair blonde and act like a bimbo… being blonde and dumb- that’s VERY fashionable these days... just turn on the TV. I’ll be a cog in the Pretty Machine. I’ll roll along in the spinning Meat Show. Or I’ll go back to my old store and by some corporate rebel gear, so I can be different just like everyone else. It’s all the same.

I don’t know what the world thinks of me. I don’t know what my friends think of me. I don’t even know what I think of myself.

Maybe all of this has been a dream. Maybe my whole life has been several nightmares sutured together. Cracked, bruised, and healed together like an artificial beauty… just like my feelings.

Maybe it’s time to just wake up.

…

END OF PART 2