"Sheriff"
by Alfred McMoore
Everyone is insecure. It's very obvious to me now. An old friend of mine used to ask people the question, "What compliment do you like to hear the most?" Their answer indicated what they felt the most insecure about. We went around, asking everyone we knew, extracting their deepest insecurities with a seemingly harmless question. Someone who clearly had an eating disorder answered, "You look like you lost weight." (See, some of this shit was pretty heavy.) Someone we both thought was ditzy answered, "That was a good idea, _____!" We laughed at that. Someone I think about dearly answered, "You're a good friend." That was sweet.
I suppose it's human nature to not reveal your vulnerabilities to others for fear that you'll be attacked. I suppose that's not even human nature, that's kind of animal nature. Not even animal nature, because plants do the same thing. Life nature. That's redundant. Nature. It is natural to not reveal your vulnerabilities to others for fear that you'll be attacked.
I'm not sure if this is a quality that I have acquired over the years or something I was born with or something I picked up in the loony bin, but I am almost certain that I now have X-ray vision. I can see right through you.
I've written about this before, but some people who know I have bipolar disorder think that that makes me a very good listener or a very understanding person or something. It's almost as if I'm the Father and they're the Catholics and we're at Confession and they're laying out all their sins. Actually, it's not like that, because, I've never been in a confessional, but I don't think I'd be that open to the reverend of my church because they're actually pretty judgmental. But I guess that's the point I'm trying to get at. People think that since I have bipolar disorder and I've been hospitalized in a psychiatric ward three times, I am no one to judge them so they tell me all the little gory details of their lives. And yeah, I guess I'm no one to judge, but even if no one has ever doubted your mental stability, you're no one to judge either.
Oh yes, and I guess I need to include the part where they suddenly get very insecure about everything they've said so they pretend that they never said it.
It's like this. I've been in places where people have had very real problems. They have nowhere to go after they're discharged. They are paranoid schizophrenics and they have nowhere to go. They were raped as children, they're 18 years old, and to me, they are still children that need to be taken care of, and they have nowhere to go. They have black eyes and bruises given to them by their boyfriends and husbands and they have nowhere to go. They are heroin addicts and they have nowhere to go. They are prostitutes and they have nowhere to go.
And I feel blessed to have been there, I truly do. I feel truly, truly blessed. When I was there, both in Texas and in Baltimore, I felt like...
I don't know, it's like this. I was raised in nice places and my family started out with less than we have now but I can never say I've went to sleep hungry or without shelter or clothes or anything like that. But it's like... I'm lucky to have been shaken from my comfort zone. I know, as parents, you want to protect your child from everything that's wrong and scary and ugly in this world, but I've looked at it all straight in the face and seen what evil can really do to people and my god you know it really really fucks people up. Like, through and through, just completely fucks people up.
And sometimes I do feel sorry for myself and throw myself a little pity party in my head. Poor Alina, poor Alina, you've been through so much, you poor little girl. And to be honest, I guess I really have been through a lot (I mean who can really qualify or quantify that statement), but do you know how powerful a smile can be? Or just eye contact? Do you know?
It's like this. They knew I was from Hopkins because everyone that put me there made such a big deal about it, but it really doesn't help you once you're inside. The interns or nursing students or whatever (I mean I have no idea why they were there, they looked my age) would jump up in the morning asking if I wanted coffee. I mean, I knew it was decaf, what the fuck, and I didn't want special treatment. I mean I guess the only person that really understood that Union Memorial was not hell to me was my nurse because I told her I'd been to ASH and she'd never been there but she knew what it was like to be in a State Hospital. ASH was previously named Texas Lunatic Asylum.
It's like this. The doctors I guess didn't want me to stay there that long because I was getting too attached and too friendly with all the patients there. I don't know what it is, but I just really really care about people sometimes it just kills me. Like I still think about Michael and Arielle from ASH and wonder how they're doing and I still think about Patrick and if he made it to Colorado and it's like when I was there with these people I truly saw their vulnerabilities and they saw mine and we were just in there together thinking the same thing. Fuck, this sucks.
And when I'm on the outside, here, where I am right now, it's like I'm surrounded by people who have the same exact identical vulnerabilities but instead of being honest about it they just do things to hurt each other before they get hurt first. It's just so fucking twisted to me.
I think it's my goal now to keep the mental institute mentality with me forever.
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