Read last chapter “Mom, do you have any smokes?” my son yells from his room, the sound of objects being tossed from – i assume – dresser drawers onto the floor punctuating his query. “Um, check my purse, Kiddo!” You can go ahead and judge me for letting my 17 year-old smoke cigarettes, but i…
Read last chapter As it turns out, there is an organization just a couple of blocks from me called Trilogy that can help both J and I with outpatient psychiatric services, therapy, and getting me on Medicaid – which I’m going to need in order to pay for all of it. Ms Connor already got…
Read Last Chapter I’m actually getting out. I can’t believe it. After eight days. I go through the rest of my day feeling high, despite my bruised neck, the lumps on my head, the fact that this place nearly killed me. Are all psych wards like this? Is this place typical of looney bins…
Read last chapter Now that Rita has been deemed violent on account of trying to kill me in my sleep, she can’t be roomed with me again, which means I get the place to myself for the time being. In psych ward standards, I’ve quickly come to learn, that’s like getting the penthouse suite. When…
Read last chapter Rita. Her weight – considerably heavy on my small frame – is crushing me, her breath hot in my face, her fingers digging into my throat. I can’t breathe. She’s murmuring something I can’t make out, and then; “Do you want to kiss me?” What the absolute fuck? Her fingers dig deeper…
Read last chapter My conversation with my son renews my anxiety to leave this place, get out of this literal madhouse and be there for him when he gets out of rehab. And of course, thinking of his return home sends my head spinning off in a million directions; where am I going to get…
I’d rather you float down the river-sea Voodoo Heathen, fuck around with my privacy I wish i didn’t feel I want to do bad things Tricky Read last chapter But I don’t talk about my mother when I’m in the hospital – not with any doctor, not even with The Giant with the Terrible Scars.…
Its her desire to take shapeAbandoned bass amp blowingLove to starlight dreamBoxes of blood plugged intoOur awesome sick machine Thurston Moore Read Last Chapter They always want to hear about your mother in these stories. “How did you turn out so screwed up?” is what they really mean. I always found it a bit hackneyed,…
I never meant to be the needle that broke your back You were here, you were here Don’t look back He war, he war He will Kill for you Cat Power Read Part VI “Mom?” “J – are you ok? How are you?” “How am I? Mom, how are you? What happened? What’s going on?”…
Read Part V At lunch – which consists of something resembling Soylent Green, accompanied by bright orange cubes of carrots like you get in grade school cafeterias, and more Decaf coffee – a huge man with pink, scrubbed skin and thinning hair who reminds me of Lenny from Of Mice and Men comes shuffling into…