[Continuing the journal of Diane McMurphy, a patient in Bad Shepherd mental hospital, “The Asylum”]
Today I had another one of those precious one-on-ones with Dr. Wolfe. Doctor draws a deep breath and straightens up in his chair. He doesn’t know what that means, but I do: his next sentence will include the word “realize.” A shrink’s favorite word. “Realize” has something to with “real people,” but not with “realty,” the house I lost when I was sent here to the asylum. “Real” is whatever Power says is real, and Doctor represents Power, for sure. Power is the right to lock me up in the room with the green cloth walls, when I can’t lock him up there so he’d get a taste of how it feels, having to pee and there’s no place to pee and you’re pounding your fists on the door and making unbecoming weeping noises and crying for god’s sake let me out of this goddamn place I promise I’ll be good and peeing all over the floor.
That’s the kind of therapy that helps me Realize.
[to be continued]
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Thank you – tk
Memorable Fancies 
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