Preferred Forms of Implosion

A Unit Interrupted

The fourteen-year-old convinces the psychiatric nurses to play a movie rated a mere R – a perfect choice for the ward.  And so it begins; mass hysteria fuller than the moon above the best howl: “Girl Interrupted.”  Worse than “One Flew over a Cuckoo’s Nest” and “Poltergeist;” putting “Devil’s Advocate” to shame.  Midway through the movie, on the ward: manipulative teenager breaks the Plexiglas over her light switch to slice her wrist; blondie eats her nicotine patch and arrests; and the creeper who rocks while watching me sleep, suddenly appears in – well – people clothes and manages to duck out the locked

door as stretchers race in for the suicide bound.  And the odd part?  No one turns off the movie!  The rest of us crazies either glue our eyes to the movie, the drama in the room, or into space; depending on the level of drug induced sedation.  It occurs to me how funny it would be to hide cafeteria chicken under my bed now that worry about my night stalker walked off the unit.

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I differed little from the absurdity of this ward in this chapter of my life. When you relate to despair, the disturbing actions of others make so much sense! 

Drinking to take the edge off? Popping a pill, smoking or shooting up? Stealing to finance your preferred form of implosion? Anorexia, bulimia, binge-eating, eating disordered? S&M or porn addiction? Mutilation, burning or cutting, self-harm? Finding chaos, isolating, numbing, overworking, gambling, sleeping issues? What’s your go-to/go-to’s? 

How long does each act of destruction last and at what cost?

In your misery, desolation, gloom, dejection, anguish, grief, or despair, what can you do to make one small move toward the exit of your cave? What does a lifeline look like? Must it glow in the dark? Are you already hunting for it on your hands and knees?

What if you didn’t live this way? What if you decided right now you want a different way of life? I invite YOU! Ditch your dark and step forward . . .

for you.