Again, the Monday ritual... washing off the sickness from my wilted skin and matted hair. We can scrub away the filth, but we are still known as the man with a cane, who wears the same clothes everyday, and stares at the ground instead of looking people in the eye... that creepy fellow, that looks like a Manson Family reject and smells of BO and cigarette smoke. I am the wasted space, the foul air... that pollutes the precious view of those more important than I. Stand in line, grab your rotten fruit... for here I am. The eater of children, rapist of romance, and harborer of sorrow.
I spent some time this week reflecting on the sexual abuse I endured as a child...discussions in therapy, understanding the roots of some of my social isolation and confusion. My therapist was shocked to see it all laid out upon the table... the sexual assault from the hospital staff when I was 4 or 5, the years of molestation from my sister, the rape in the dentist office. It's a small piece of the puzzle... not including the vast amount of despicable and deviant sexual encounters done by my hand. He said it was amazing that I'm as well adjusted as I am... putting aside the spiritual, mental, and physical abuse and neglect. I told him that I can't really believe it myself... so many encounters and trauma, festering inside feeding upon life itself. It makes me wonder how people would possibly believe the story I have to tell... I was there and remember those things clearly, and I can't believe it. I wish I had the strength and drive to write everything down... to share the recipe for disaster and the making of a schizophrenic. I don't care about attention or making money from a book... all I want is to be heard. Even if everyone read it, praised it, and talked about it... I would still wonder if anyone actually heard me. Most listen and allow the words to echo in and out of their minds... never giving a place to each emotion. Hearing is different... not many can hear, it requires sacrifice and empathy. It's a Vasoline world, and the chapped skin is it's people...
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