It Must Be A Full Moon.

I don't exactly know how I ended up the Bezonia State Facility. It just...happened. I was 24. One year away from being 98% out of danger for mental illness. 365 days.

Evidently, I told one too many people of my conversations with Jane. Jane & I used to have tea together. I always took mine white with two lumps of sugar. I loved that Jane took hers staight. We'd chat about things, but only important things. Jane was not a woman to be trifled with. I wanted to be just like her. Strong, stimulating, and British. The Lakes? Why yes! She was from the the lakes! She abhorred London. I was quite diverted when she scolded me for admitting my fascination with it.

Once we had this little chat about what right & wrong really meant and how we learned it.

"What if you lived for one day believing the exact opposite of what peopletell you is right? Or, what if you do the exact opposite of what you do now. Don't read...write. Believe?...Don't believe. Don't love...feel indiffernce. Don't wake up...stay in bed."

Yes, Jane was the reason I am at BSF. Little, lovely Jane with her crazy ideas and compelling rants.

So, I stayed in bed. I took four sleeping tablets. I slept for 16 hours together. I woke to 10 messages on my phone. Boss-where are you? Friend-are you ok? Mother-still coming to dinner tonight? etc. "Answer your call...don't answer your calls". I watched the phone float down the bayou. Beautiful.

That night I went to dinner alone. I choose to reject the "Eat?...don't eat" part of Jane's conversation. I ordered a $100 bottle of wine and a $50 steak. I drank and ate the whole thing. I pretended I was going to the restroom but skipped out on my tab through an employee door used mostly for smoke breaks.

Tonight I'll take five tablets and see what that does. Wait, they give me medicine here. Medicine that makes it impossible to think. One of the younger attendents still asks me about Jane. I tell him she comes and visits sometimes, but you know the rules, she can't stay too long. He says, "funny, I checked the visitor list...no one seems to visit you." That's impossible. She and I sit in that room once a month and chat. He injects more fluid into the raw spot on my neck. "I don't belong here.....I don't...."


"Wake up...wake up!"
"J-Jane! What, how'd you..."
"Shhhh...why are you telling people about me?"
"Well..."
"We're not friends."
"We're not?"
"No."
"But you and I ... we ..."
"I know. There is no more 'we'. And now it's time to go."
"Go where"
"Just go"

She covered my face with one of the scratchy pillows from the bed next to mine. She tore out my I.V. and began tearing open my wrist. I screamed. Then I thought. Flashes of pain from before this place. Boyfriends...no boyfriends. Friends...no friends. Listening...no listening. Love...No Love.

A flash of my mom. Oh, I'd miss her.
My old friends. That was a great party!
My cat. He was the best.
None of it was enough though.
None of it was enough.