scream

Back ensconced in ward 8 Bentley Hospital in my flytrap mind

At least I’m with my crazy people

Suicidal ideation with cold claws of depression around my throat

Empathy and cigarettes as I meet the gentle mental

Telling tales of trauma as we lurch toward medication time buoyed by companionship

Memories of their voices

‘She was born a heroin baby’

‘I took an overdose of Valium and a shitload of antidepressants’

‘I tried to kill myself twice’

‘I wish I was dead’

‘I tried to hang myself with a sheet and the nurse found me’

People rendered fragile by the viscous blender of earth

Some think us hopelessly broken

We balance madness and sanity in our brains sometimes madness wins

Medication time, medication time

Drugs are shuffled by doctors and dolled out to wild-eyed victims of the societal meat-grinder

Titration of pills and prescriptions to quell anxiety, depression and delusion

Uppers, downers, round and rounders

Anti-psychotics, anti-depressants and heavenly benzodiazepenes

Then we sit outside in the courtyard to smoke to punctuate our day

Sharing cigarettes with noble depressives or exploring thought projection with shamanic schizophrenics

We dance a devilish dance in a rain of paranoia

Until it all becomes too much

We are sad, we are sometimes shattered

Sometimes hard to love

But we laugh and we smile too

Then howl out the agony of our souls

We will keep trying

To get our heads together

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