Month: January 2018
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A Weekend Note from the Home Asylum
I’ve received emails from people, responding to posts about my recent psychotic breakdown. Some of them are friends who ask: 1. If I’m okay and 2. Do I really want to do this? Write about my mental illness? They’re concerned that it will set off another episode. They might have a point. Then there are…
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Update From the Home Asylum
It’s been a little over ten days since the crack from reality. I’m calmer now. It’s not over. It’s never over. But I’m able to read in the mornings, which is a very good sign. I’m into Yusef Komunyakaa’s collection of poetry, Neon Vernacular, which I highly recommend. Incredible Vietnam War poems, and his syntax…
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The Pattern of a Breakdown
As chaotic as madness is, there is a pattern to it. This latest episode, for instance: it really began in November, when we set the clocks back and lost an hour of sunlight. Even in Los Angeles, as we approach winter solstice, it turns dark before five o’clock. Each day in December, with its lessening…
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How Madness Hides
My smile in the photo isn’t a lie, but an attempt. It was my idea to take the family Christmas portrait, one of those last-ditch efforts to get into the holiday spirit. We took it Christmas eve. Sixteen hours later I crumpled into a corner of the kitchen, screaming about childhood and the demon in…
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Notes From This Recent Psychotic Attack
I had nicked my arm with a razor blade earlier in the season, and thought at the time that it would suffice. Just a little cut above the crux of the elbow, no more than an inch long, though deep enough to leave a scar among all the other crisscross of scars. It worked, for…