the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
a place of screaming ~ may 9, 2001 - 10:25 p.m. I've been having a rough day, but damned if I could tell you why. sometimes it's just like that. sometimes there's a thin skin between the you that copes, that functions, that keeps a grip, that puts one foot in front of the other and breathes air in and out all day long... and the you that wants to let go and start screaming uncontrollably. days like this I can hear the screaming, just under the surface, all day long. yeah, so, welcome to my dark side. only the people closest to me know about the times I have let go, when something has pushed me over that edge into the place where screaming is like falling and falling feels like forever. where the screaming takes over my whole body and plays me like an instrument from hell. wide, wild animal eyes, rigid knuckles and clawlike nails. once in a blue moon. maybe once every two years or so. I come completely unhinged. once the police were called. where were you when I was six? I should have asked them. no one called the police when I was a child, no matter how loudly I screamed, even when I learned to scream fire! instead of help me! no one ever came. not until I was twenty-four and in a fetal position on the floor of my gorgeous one-bedroom, my girlfriend helpless and terrified on the other side of the room. then the police came, to save me from harm, a couple of decades late. four of them. at my apartment door. clare trying to hold them off, to give me a chance to pull myself together, but I had to go out there when I heard them threatening to break down the door. shaking so hard I could barely stand. staring at the floor. two uniforms and two undercover, overkill because there'd been break-ins lately and I lived in what was known as a nice neighborhood. they asked invasive questions. insinuated that I needed "treatment". whitehaired undercover with a transplant drawl and american flag baseball cap asked if this was "a lesbian relationship" and got all self-righteous on me when I told him that was none of his business. I used to work at the ACLU. bent and shaking like a tree, I lifted my head and informed those four cops that I didn't have to answer any of their questions. they all took a step back. wrote down my name address place of employment and then took their leave. the one female cop pausing to ask clare if she felt safe. yes, I feel very safe. she told me later she'd been terrified they'd take me away, have me committed somewhere. I wouldn't have let that happen, I told her. and it's true. in spite of my moments of screaming hysterics, I've never been able to shake my deathgrip on sanity. even when I wanted to. strength. sometimes I think I came into this world with too much of it. I'm trying to learn to be weak. I'm not there yet, I haven't hit the invisible line that divides the world of sunshine where I spend most of my time now and the world of nightmares and screaming from whence I came. although it's been about two years, so maybe I'm about due. all I know is that something inside me wants my attention. something, someone. a little girl. who screamed and screamed and screamed. but nobody heard.
(((rings))) |