Aargh! Where is my mind?!?

I've tended to lose grip of actuality; I'm inclined to allowing the accusations fly. I'm okay with the insults' attempts at personification; I'm ready now, I'm set, but where is my mind. Huh?!?

Where is my mind!?!

Doctor, don't talk to me in that tone. We've done the RHETI test -it says that I'm the Reformer; the rational type. I am typically rational and I do not and will not accept that tone of voice. Now, you tell me. What must I do? I need relevance, I need understanding; show them to me.

No, I will not relax. Matter of fact, I will seat no more. Answer Me!

Doctor, take a deep breath. You relax! Here, have some water. Good. Now, think goddamit. Give me reason, give me answers; now!

You've never encountered my problem before? I change like the wind? I'm not constant enough? How the hell can I be any of those, doctor? Don't you know who I am? Don't you appreciate my plight? I am in this alone, no-one can relate with me. You, you know the most, yet either way, you can't relate with me. How can that be? Listen asshole, I am on the verge of something historic. You see me here? You see me here? I am the closest the human race has come to the living dead and you want nothing more to do with me? Damn you! You are on the cusp of greatness, my friend. Damn you!

Just give me an answer. One word even? I thrive on enthusiasm. Tell me something! Please! I'm begging you! Where is she? Where are all of them?

Doctor? Doctor? Doctor!?! WHERE. IS. mY. mIND?

Give me Lithium! Yes, I take the Lithium now! Don't you look down on me! Get out of my way!

He says I'm unreasonable, can you believe this? He says it's highly unethical, yet he's taken me this far. He's taken me this goddamn far, mined my mind, now he leaves me broke. He's taken all I have; no, actually no -he's taken all he wanted and left me with a wasteland.

I told him, I told him: Find me a way wherein those who are dead, are not dead, but are living in my head. Quack doctor, which I now know he is, he came back and told me to totally let go, to open up chakras and breathe in and out as if it were my last dying breath. I did it. Boy, I let go! I was stricken, I was f*ckin afflicted; hell, I had to let go. I let go and he let himself in. The situation has worsened and now he wants out. Over my dead body is he getting an out. Every-f*ckin-thing is broken and he wants out. Fat chance of that!

Daily, till today, I've prayed this sonnet of John Donne. Here you can read it yourself:

Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

I've read it, I've prayed it; no avail. So, I've come for my doctor.

I'm not taking this! Doctor! Get yourself out here now! Get him for me! Woman! Do not get involved. This does not and should not concern you. This is patient-doctor confidentiality. Now, you will get the doctor so he can see me again! I am sorry, my friends; but my needs are urgent. My situation is dire; I'm only human. Believe me, I AM human.

Distort the world; I'll remain human. Distort my mind and then I'm a mutation.

Look, I don't want any trouble, I just want my doctor. Now, lady, I know your son needs to see the doctor, and listen man, I can see you need directions for taking your medications but there is a life here that needs reclaiming and it's not yours, it's mine. Now, I haven't had the luxury of being me for a very long time, and I just want to be me. I asked this doctor, I said to him: Find me a way, wherein those who are dead, are not dead, but are living in my head. He gives me a bill of $15000 for 24 sessions -3 times a week for 2 months- and still I'm nowhere.

So, don't be surprised when I say, I just want to see my doctor. Help me help myself, I told him. Give me an answer, give me perspective; give me something. All I wanted was something I could hold on to. Hope, maybe. Or dreams, you know. Something tangible. No! He had to take every goddamn thing I had. I'm broke mate; ok? I'm broke. My wife died 2 years ago -never got over that. So I come to this doctor; I tell him: I can't take it anymore, I need help. I can't deal with the grief anymore, help me. I told him to HELP me. That is his moral obligation. But no! I didn't stop there. I paid him to do his moral obligation. My wife is dead 2 years now, and all I can boast is a slight remembrance of her. You know why? This doctor; he's why!

I told him, I told him: I don't want to feel the pain anymore. I told him: Take away the pain whatever way you can, but leave her in my mind. I don't want to lose her, I want to lose the pain -I don't want to lose her, I want to lose the pain. Now, he sends me to a psychologist. Sure! Who'd argue with that move. 6 months! I spent 6 months there. 6 months, I wasted there. No progress. She's slipping away, every-f*ckin-day that goes by. The more I don't see of her, the more I forget. 6 months. 6 f*ckin months, my friends, I spent there. Soon, she starts fading. What was the premise? The premise was that I didn't want to lose her. I didn't want to lose her. The psychologist starts to say that I'm being unreasonable. He starts to say that because I said that I wouldn't take drugs, he has no choice but to refer me back to the doctor. BUT at the time, with each passing second, my friends, I was losing my wife. Common sense would dictate that wiling away time would be counterproductive. No! Not for this doctor. He sends me away for 6 months -and I forget near-everything. Near-everything! The premise was that I didn't want to lose her. I've lost everything now, my friends. What was the premise? And where am I now?

I just wanted to keep her within touching distance -a stone's throw away. Nah! Too difficult! $90000, my friends. $90000 I've spent. I'm nowhere. I told him: she slipping away; keep her in. I told him: I want her in here, in my head.

She's gone!

Okay? The memories, the days and nights, the frights, my sense of belonging. Gone. Like chaff in the wind -gone! I loved her; but now, now I can't even remember the moments that made me fall in love with her. My parents died during my first year in college in a horrific car crash. The authorities found the car burnt beyond recognition with the only remnant a barely cohesive licence plate. For a whole month, the licence plate was the only evidence that could tie the dead to my family. Can you believe that 4 weeks after the accident, I still harbored hopes that they were alive. I harbored hopes that the dead were only a bunch of kids who'd stolen the car and had taken it for a joy-ride, only to meet their unfortunate end. I knew they were dead -my gut feeling was very honest with me. At the time, I felt so profoundly alone like I never had before -that's how I knew. Still, I harbored some belief that they were alive. I hadn't spoken to them for 4 weeks, yet, I happily and easily believed that they were out there somewhere. The results came, the ashes had been tested. My friends, every single one of them in that car was blood of my blood. I became a broken kid. My whole life that I was spectacularly told was in front me, was all of a sudden shattered into shards which were scattered on every path I chose to tread.

Whenever I tried to make a move; I'd step on a shard. It'd prick me; I'd bleed. That was my life.

By chance, I kept meeting this girl at the local bar who'd being through my situation herself -local legend informed this to me. I know how you feel, she smiled at me one day. She lightly pats my shoulder and says that the drinks are on her. I turn towards her for a moment; I wince. She sees it, yet she smiles some more. I tell myself that before I leave that night, I must inform her of how sometimes I get the feeling that the 'licence plate' 4 weeks had eaten up all my God-given reserves of hope. Towards the end, I did inform her. I told her that I appreciated what she was trying to do but I informed her: all hope is gone. At the end of the night, she called me a cab and put her phone number in my pocket. I'll help you get through it, she said. In my state, I could only conjure up a fake smile. Deep down though, I began to appreciate -little by little- that somehow I didn't feel so alone anymore. 3 years I spent with that girl. I graduated from being a broken kid to a whole man. She made me whole.

We had no parents, so there was no waiting. We got married -we were happily married. She took it all -she absorbed it all. All the pain, the grief, the lack of a sense of belonging. She took it all, she recycled it and gave the end result - herself- to me. We'd planned to have a kid but not too long afterwards she died from cancer. Turned out she'd always had it -but spared me from knowing. Me. ME, my friends! Who am I? What am I worth?

They say: Greater love has no man than this, that he gives his life for his friend. She gave her life for me, my friends. And all I wanted to do was keep her in here, keep her alive in here -living in my head. That was the least I could do. And now that she's gone -I can only remember faint details. It's all fading -this doctor has broken everything. Everything is broken.

So, you see why I'm next? She'd being waiting a long time? You've being waiting a long time? I've been waiting all my life, woman! Everyone one I've lost -waiting to reclaim them. That doctor is the key. He gives me back my wife, and through my wife, I'll have access to my parents and my 2 brothers -my 2 baby brothers that I lost. I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy.

I chose to move out of my parent's house, so I could live near campus. So I could get away from them. Ha! But now I want them. They were on their way to visit me; to see how I'd settled. No! Stuff your tissues! Crying is not a sign of innocence; it's a sign of guilt. So let me cry; I deserve it. I wanted to get away from them -to lead my own life, in my image and likeness. Now, whichever life I lead, they will definitely never be a part of it. They were on their way for me -because I'd left, because I had no backbone. I'm nobody. Mr. Insignificant. Trapped in this futility. It's all futile. And sure you can call it: "the captivity of negativity"; but this, this life, this existence: I hate its futility. And you know what hurts the most? It is that, in this futility, a group of people had some purpose, and that purpose they directed towards me. Innocent blood on my hands -my 2 brothers, my wife, my stillborn daughter when my wife died, my parents. All that purpose directed towards me -just for me. And who am I? What is my worth?

I just want them with me. I just want them with me. I just want to find a way where those that are dead, are not dead, but are living in my head. It's 18 months now, my friends, since her death. I haven't felt a thing. 18 months -and all I've got to hold on to are memories that won't stop fading.

What did you just say? You didn't say anything? You didn't say anything? You heard me? You heard me good? Yes, yes I spent $90000 on you, asshole. I told all of them. Yes, I was put in prison several times and I paid bail. So? Yes, I went to rehab a couple of times. So? Yes, I pay for the Lithium. So? And what's wrong with giving your wife the best funeral possible? Exactly! There's nothing wrong with that. What? What?!? I haven't paid you a dime? I, I, I haven't. Paid you? What? Wait. What?!?

Everything is broken, I tell you. Why isn't living the only facet of life? I need her, doctor. Help me.