Quiet Room - Lori Schiller [85]
My thoughts ran all together, veered and careened and strung themselves together in ways I could not control. I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't corral them.
I sat in class watching the instructor show us how to give shots.
“You do it firmly,” she said, grasping the syringe. “Don't hesitate. Pretend you are throwing a dart.”
“A dart. A dart,” my mind chanted. “Do it like a dart.” And then, as the lecture droned on, my mind was off in flight. “Do it like a dart.” The ultimate injection. A shot in the ass. Syringe. Cringe. To die in room 404. Dead. Gray plastic features. Cinema I and II. Last row. Row, row, row your boat. Don't be a cutthroat. Cut your throat. Get your goat. Go out and vote. And so I wrote. Topic: nonsense. Sense of none? The flying nun. Flying high on coke. Diet Coke. Ninety-nine cents. Two-liter bottles. Bottle it up. Seethe. Fester. Bubble. Explode. Ha! Ha! Ha! They're at it again …
To be sick. To be well. To wish in a well. Please let me be courageous. Another quarter in the fountain. Please let me be like everybody else. The outcast. Loser. Pitiful. Hate that word. Fighter. Winner. Delusional. False beliefs. Who am I kidding? Daffy Duck? Loony Toons. Deranged. Demented. Unbalanced. They're manic. I'm crazy. I'm crazy. That's insanity. It's cracked to be like Humpty Dumpty. Zcdera = crazed! Is a cuckoo clock wacky or just screwy (as in needing a Phillips screwdriver to be cured). What do I need to be healed. Will a wrench work? Maybe I can wrench my neck? Suicidal ideation seeping out? Too tense and nervous. SNAP! (and not as in “crackle, pop”). I'm suffocating as if a Ziploc bag has zipped my head off. That's witless; incredibly bugged out. It's like an overdose of Chinese mustard burning your brain beyond the Outer Limits of your nostrils. “You can pick your friends. You can pick your nose, but you can't pick your friend's nose.” I have no friends anyway. How about just a buddy? How about a Budweiser? How about a budding flower? How about a beer and a rose? How about a wedding? To love and to cherish forever and always. Isn't “always” a panty shield or a pregnancy test or tampon or something? Now I'm getting grosser by the minute. My second-hand first-hand Swatch watch's second hand is busted. Around and around the time goes, and where it stops, you may win a prize on The Price Is Right. Let's go to a club and eat cold cut sandwiches on club rolls, and bring clubs with us like we were in The Flintstones. Dr. Rockland is Fred's and Wilma's and the Rubble family's psychiatrist too. He goes way back to Stone Age times to give family therapy. Do you have the time? Does anybody know what time it is? Do you care? Sealed with a kiss. No valentines except from my daddy. Why can't I find a boyfriend? Why can't I find any friends? Maybe I'm a blockhead or a huge blackhead. No, I have a good complexion. I scrub my skin off. I will come to your aid with a Band-Aid. Fix me up. I want to be cured. No more schizo-affective disorder. Get it out of me. Not interested. Go to fucking hell. They always find their way into my mind. I'll show you assholes. All I want is a man and a family that makes it in this world. Please, dear God, I pray and pray for an advantageous kind of life. I promise to be a worthwhile contributor to this life and perhaps beyond. Crazy or just a bit touched? Either way, as they say, I'm my best buddy. High five, self!
Robin realized I was in trouble before anyone else did. Maybe she knew the signs because she had been there before. I started giving away things. I gave Deanna a photograph I had taken of a red bird that I loved. I gave away all my record albums, every last one, to the residents in Futura. I tried giving my stereo to the house. My