Tuesday September 3rd
I know this with complete accuracy, it is one of the ways that we daily assessed – a grasp on date & time seems to be the primary tool on madness measurement here
My daughter delivered me here two weeks ago, having found my attempts to twin proof my home alarming . I am here for 28 days, to be assessed , to be measured, to be labelled.
At first I was confused, her twinny voice raged in my head, demanding that I listened to her, that I paid attention, that we went straight home right now.
The noise was so much that I could hear almost nothing else and longed for silence, tried to curl up into a ball, to hide in corners, to wrap my head in towels & blankets in an attempt to muffle the sounds.
And, just when I really thought that I could not bear another single second of her screaming. It all changed. Her voice softened, she came to me in dreams again, stroked me and told me what I needed to say, how to best to cope with this new situation. I was able to nod, smile, answer questions, take part – I could feel the satisfaction in the staff – another loony cured, another mad woman functioning & all the time I walked through this new performance, I felt her voice in my ear, silkily, smoothly coaching and coaxing me
“yes, I had heard voices”
“no – I didn’t hear then anymore”
“yes – I understand now – I have been ill – thank you for your help”
I am become the model patient – my only goal is to get out. If I was a heroine in a story written before care in the community became the model of madness management , I would have languished for years in a back ward somewhere, grown grey & faded until finally love or feminism freed me back into the world, where I became a better person through my suffering.
The reality, which suits me so well, is that they want me out, I want to be out, she, her voice always present, instructing, guiding, steering on a course I don’t understand, insists that we get out.