“Dai,” she pauses, I can see she’s in a bind now. Push me further and she’s medicalizing our friendship, back away and it’s against her instincts as a nurse. She wants to offer me drugs I can feel it, slip me some risperidone or ativan at the least but I’ve been off that poison for months now and living a normal life...Now I realise I’ve been thinking too long, it’s a dead giveaway for having internal dialogue. If I was on her ward those pyjamas would be staying on, but I’m not and I’m not stupid enough to get committed, not again.
Found in Are you awake yet? - first draft, authored by Daisy.
“Maybe I should stay, Dai. I mean, um, let’s talk about your new ‘friend,’ shall we?” Now my back’s up. I know she’s a psyc nurse but I can see her pulling the professional side of her out of the closet. She’s known me fifteen years and I insist she puts her ‘stethoscope’ behaviour away or no dice. She’s not coming in today. Anyway, you and I have a walk to go to, right?
“No, Marsha. You know me, always the creative type. I have to sink myself into these roles you know, whether it’s love, hate or betrayal, I have to be six inches under when I write it.” Her face muscles sink a bit, she’s crestfallen. She likes to rescue people, I know she does, she’s good at it too. But all her department has to offer is the removal of all your clothes in front of a half dozen people of both genders and an injection in your ass. Lucky for me I’m not crazy. I’m perfectly lucid, I can write, I can do algebra (if I want to), I can debate and talk finance. If wanting to save the world makes me crazy then I don’t want to be “sane.” You can keep it. I am fully able to lie to protect myself and those I love, there’s no guilt in that.
“Are you trying to save the world again, Dai?” She has her serious nurse look on again, I know she’s shooting for ‘concerned friend’ but she’s been in the business too long not to wear it when she’s having these thoughts. So in as much as she thinks she’s ‘reading’ me, I’m reading her. After five years of having ‘check-ups’ the psychiatrists have declared me psychosis free, sane. So they can stick their rooms with iron doors and handles where the sun doesn't shine. They can keep all their pills from big Pharma, except maybe the odd sleeping pill. My mind does blow a bit hot sometimes and I'm more than partial to a solid eight hours sleep.
Found in Are you awake yet? - first draft, authored by Daisy.
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