This is dedicated to a friend- who I still think is Crazy beautiful
Now im wondering if she’s better off without all of us. All of us thinking she’s crazy and watching our own backs. “Looking out for her, doing what’s best for her”. I wonder if she has a point: if an adult is saying over and over stop and this hurts, what gives us the right to keep going, keep pushing her back in to our reality? Pulling her, medicating, abusing/ inflicting pain (her words) her into sanity. Who is she hurting really, by staying perfectly insane?
the conversation started out so typically, for her. i hadnt heard from her in over a year but I was just thinking about her and
(“twisted” just started playing in the background and the only thing that song is good for is humor- not the creative juices…friking top 100 of 1996)
isnt it always just like that. the person you think of calls. I’m starting to get back in sync with my environment. (ah prince on pandora, that’s better) Anyway she started out so normal, “so hey how are you doing what r u gonna be when you grow up” superficial- which isnt normal for her looking back on it. This girl doesn’t do small talk. And then she started asking about people talking about her. This was highly specific gossip, and we were using it against her. She started asking about specific people, the religious ones, in our class- we’re they condoning, were they instigatting suffering. How could she stop it? And I started to worry. I started frantically motioning to my roomate to call someone ::old schoool hand symbols for crazy::- call someone- anyone!
And the thing is, this girl, she isnt scary. She’s so open and loving and her recourse of course, would be to stop the suffering by removing herself from the equation. She would end the game, the game we were all a part of- even the ones who didnt want to be, by ending herself. This was not the time for being still, for waiting on the Lord- she said, this was a time for action. If you could do something, and we always have the choice to do something, to stop evil, would you not do it? Do the ends justify the means? – she asked me. Her thoughts became more erratic, more vague, more disorganized, and eventually I became the one who was lying to her, was telling truths from a background- a pretext of falsehood. I was caught in the game.
She admitted to being locked away with pills force fed down her throat for weeks. Her family, her friends were removed from her by the game. We said we were working in her best interest but we weren’t, aren’t, can’t be. She wasn’t buying into the program, the pills, the shrinks.
She was insulted when I went down the psych emergency question list, offended that I would ask her if she wanted to hurt any one else. I didnt ask if she had taken anything- should have, my professors would have shaken their heads. But at that moment I was no where near being a doctor. I was scared, and my friend was going crazy, and I was hundreds of miles away.
Amid counselors and frantic calls to friends and a whole lot of prayer/laughter/fear I gave this to someone else. Someone who knew what to do. I vascillated through the night on whether this was the right decision, would she hate me if they came for her? would they come for her? would they handcuff her and drag her off? like last time? (muddy waters came on and suddenly I feel like singing might be better than writing)
I don’t know
I just want her to be back to where she was before, before when I was asked to watch out for her, before when I got mad at her but prayed for her and felt so connected, for a short time, to this girl, who is crazy. crazy beautiful, crazy smart, crazy alone and headed toward just crazy. I just want her back. And is that enough to justify forcing her to do things she doesn’t want to, does that justify ignoring her screaming, denying her autonomy? She said she wouldn’t hurt anyone, she said.
I don’t know
I still, don’t know.