August 9th, 2022
Mom, the first thing that you need to know is that there was no preventing this. I am not a bird with a broken wing, who, with a little help from modern medicine can be fixed and sent on its way. I've been suicidal since I was five years old, and modern medicine's bag of tricks is a wee bit light.
I know this is going to come as a shock to you. I remember your face, the last time I tried, when I woke up in the ICU three days later. You need to know that this isn't something you can stop, or fix for me. It's not your fault, either; it has nothing to do with you. I'm just going to be flat-out honest with you, because I can now. If it wasn't for Adderall, I would have done this ten years ago. I would not have made it to see my twenty-first birthday, and I would have died younger than Chaz. You keep telling me, "you can never have that medication again, you need to forget about it." And that's all fine and dandy, in la-la-land. I saw how much pain you were in, every single day after your brain surgery. Let me tell you, I would never say that to you about your Maxalt. And if you can't understand that? Now you know why you're having this conversation with yourself, after I'm dead: it's not even worth trying to talk to you.
That's like me telling you, "oh, suck it up. It's just a headache. Take some Tylenol, get up off the couch and turn all of the lights back on. You're fine. Tylenol works. You know what, while you're at it? Maybe drink some Drano, or smoke a cigarette. Modern medicine says those are the best treatments we have available, for whats wrong with you. What? Oh, well, yes. Cigarettes do cause cancer, and a whole boatload of other things too. No, they aren't good for you; not at all, actually. But the doctors say they help your headaches, so you had better spark up and start smoking right now before I call the cops again and make you smoke that whole pack. Do you like the privilege of being in your own house? Drink that Drano, too. We don't really know what it does, or why it does that, but it does something. For some people. And no, I'm not talking about good things - they just... aren't bad. I mean, it is Drano, after all. It wasn't exactly designed for migraine headaches. But, we don't have anything else, so stop resisting treatment and do what you're told.
What? Maxalt? No, you're wrong. That's not a headache medicine, I don't care what you say or where you heard that - they're wrong, too. The "best migraine medicine" my ass. It doesn't even help you. Not like the cigarettes, and the Drano. Those two things are what you need to be focused on right now. Did you remember to smoke your cigarettes yesterday? Ugh, if I can't smell it on you, you're going to force me to have you arrested again. I hate when you do this to me. Why do you insist on making my life harder?
What, me do this to you?! Oh, no, absolutely not. I'm not doing anything to you. I am not a drug addict, like you. You are getting yourself arrested, because you can't stop lying to yourself about how much you "need" drugs. People have headaches every day, Amy, and they don't have a drug problem. I will not sit here and be blamed for the fact that you have an addiction, so don't even think about taking an attitude with me the next time you land yourself in handcuffs. That's your problem, not mine.
Oh, yeah, sure. Your head is in pain, huh? Riiiiiiiight. You know what, I've heard enough about your headaches today. Let's talk about what your headaches are doing to me. I bring you cigarettes, twice, every week! You make me bug you, to make sure that you're drinking your Drano. Me, me, me, me, me. I have a life, you know. It's exhausting, but I do it, for you. I do a lot, for you. I do so much, for you that you don't even appreciate. I do so much more for you than most sons do for their mothers, you need to start being grateful! I don't want to hear any more attitude, out of your mouth, and I definitely don't want to hear any more about "Maxalt". How about a thank you, for all of the cigarettes that you smoked today? Oh, now I know you aren't drinking your Drano."
How's this conversation going, Mom?
Sound familiar? You just let me know, whenever it's worth having.
Don't worry, I'll wait.
You know, here's the funny thing: I have the absolute perfect life to study philology like this. I have nothing but time, every day. I'm on disability, I live in a beautiful apartment, and I will always have the money I need for my bills, and food without having to work. I could dedicate my entire existence to studying, and learning and helping others learn to see as I have.
But I don't. I've been labeled a schizo, and people are apparently afraid of me when I show normal human emotions. I know you're going to scoff at that, but let's be honest. I don't get mad. Recently, I got mad at you. And I said some very nasty things, and I meant to say them. I meant every word. I warned you, to stay out of my conversation and I gave you every opportunity to walk away from that interaction, and you didn't. I was beside myself, in the unit with the instant karma of you suddenly having to move my entire apartment, by yourself immediately after calling the cops on your own son, to wake me up and drag me out of my own bed so they could throw me in handcuffs and rip me out of my own house. Again.