Monday, June 14, 2010

homecoming

listening to nirvana, over and over, because the ipod is way over on the table, 7 feet away.

All Apologies was playing in the cab that took me home from the hospital, after my suicide attempt. something about it made me happy, riding home, a beautiful sunny southern california day, having rested up, having been to the garage, where they fix you up (so they say, but really you sit and are kept from sharp object for 72 hours). there was an art class though, and you were meant to draw a circle (this represented the world, specifically your world) and you were to draw something that represented you, i think just a dot, and then around that what your world felt like. so this was meant to show me what, that i didn't know? that my existence was unhappy, gee, you think? but i was happy coming home, having rested for 3 days, well 2 really, the first day was not restful, starting you out at county as they do. have you ever seen The Snake Pit? well, neither have i, but i know in general what it is about, mental hospitals 50 years ago, when mental patients were dumped and abused and neglected. it was kind of like that. there was an obese black woman draped in a blanket (i had one too, it's supposed to be comforting, i guess) and she was in bad shape, ranting and agitated. i had my wits about me, i was despondent, not mad. and i saw two doctors walk by my cot laughing about her. i've seen that kind of callousness in doctors before. the time i was hit by a car, when i was 17, having been on the road for a few months, and gotten involved with some despicable characters, like the one that had just stolen all my money, so i was walking fast to get away from him, he was trying to keep up, trying to deny that he had done it, and i thought the light had changed. i don't know if it had or not, but the car hit me nonetheless. i was thirsty already, i'd only been that thirsty once before, when i was sixteen, and walking home from the bar at 2 am, down a very long, very deserted road, several miles. i think the thirst was amplified by a more metaphysical craving, since i was walking home alone i had not even found an imitation of any sort of pleasure or communion. i knew there was a drinking fountain at the custard stand, about 3/4 of a mile from my house, and the last mile before i got to it, that knowledge sustained me. i felt ready to collapse, but felt joy at the expectation of being able to quench this thirst. i saw the fountain, a dingy little oasis, but it was such a cruel trick. i pushed the button and nothing came out. there was a soda machine there as well, and i had money, but no coins. they only took coins then. i cried in frustration, but there was nothing to do but make it home, which i did. so i was that thirsty, and still metaphysically starved as well. i was begging for water at the hospital. the hospital they took me to. charity hospital, in new orleans. it's as bad as it sounds. close to third world bad. i was on a gurney in the hall, for i don't know how many hours, being ignored. they wouldn't give me water until the doctor looked at me. saying i could have injuries that would make water contraindicated. i begged more anyway, as thirsty as i was, i didn't even care if it hurt me, but i knew it wouldn't, that that was bullshit, but it was policy. and the doctors there were as callous as the ones at county, laughing at the woman. they stood next to my gurney, having a nice chat about their golf games. while i lay in agony for hours.

in the sun i feel as one, married, buried... and it was a mixture of good and bad, i knew what that was, buried in marriage, all apologies, mine, his, all i was ever owed, but still i was in the sun. and i got home, tentatively opening the door. what greeted me was surprising, a house that had been cleaned for my homecoming, and a husband and son genuinely glad to see me home. that was a nice moment. but it didn't stay. whose fault, doesn't matter, both of us, to one degree or another. i tried, but it didn't work, for more reasons than we had hands to fix.


edit: the custard stand i mentioned in passing, i was remembering from when i was a child, i loved going there, once i walked with my sister, sometimes the family went at night which had a special atmosphere, there were neon lights lit, and the heat and humidity and mosquitoes, and chocolate soft-serve cone dipped in chocolate. the old cones, they tasted like cardboard, sugar cones came out a few years later, i was maybe 10. i couldn't remember the name, so i googled it, Serene's, and the fucker is still there! not only is it still there, it looks exactly the same, the sign is the same, everything, only they've added miniature golf now. Serene's