My after life

                                                          My after life

Hey Allie, it’s you’re older brother Holden. I don’t know if we talked today, I don’t remember very well, but it’s okay, I might as well talk to you again, since you’re the only one who understands, actually listens to me, not judge me and isn’t one of these stupid phonies that you find everywhere.  You know little bro, I used to be very happy before I got here. Okay maybe not very, but at least I had the minimum of happiness in my life you know? I felt pretty carefree and life was chill. I had a crush on this girl called Sally, but she was never interested in me or anything, she always liked the ‘’bad’’ boys, and I was only a friend to her.it didn’t bother me as much though.  Phoebe, our little sister is now all grown up. I tried to prevent it, but there was nothing I could’ve done. At age 12 she started realizing that it was big world, but I kept reminding her that we were bigger. At 14, she forgot everything I told her, and started being influenced by her friends and this so called ‘’perfect society’’. Soon after, she started drinking burning liquor and smoking herb. That didn’t bother me as much, since I used to do the same at her age… But then, she fell in the rye, and I couldn’t catch her anymore. She started having sexual intercourses with boys and girls and everything was happening so fast and just started falling apart. She became a woman, she became an adult and I couldn’t stop it anymore, she fell in the rye, and that’s when I realized that I didn’t do my job well at all. She comes and visits me sometimes in this stupid hospital. You know? It’s not very big but it fits so many people! There are like around 2000 mentally ill people so sometimes it gets pretty crazy which is very funny, because no one understands what’s happening. Most of my time is spent in a severe watched zone, which is always crowded and never entirely free from the risk of violence. Young men with drug addictions or beliefs for serious body harm were mixed in with old men suffering from Alzheimer who had no idea of what’s going on or schizophrenic men (like me) and much other deadly mental illness. I’ve started realizing that most people want something from me. My employer – my sweat, the shops – my body – my money, my sister – my ear, father and mother – my misery, my doctors and nurses– my mind. Is there no escape from this cursed society? I always wonder why I always return to this dreadful state of mind. And there is the fear of it happening again, there’s always the fear of them coming back. I have a horrible feeling that a schizophrenic such as me has every reason to feel mistreated – we are! I see others in exactly the same dilemma. It seems a certain type is doomed to be persecuted – for what else is it? ….. Will I ever be able to think again? Will I ever be able to be normal again? to have friends, to have a family beside me? These past few years I have been physically and mentally incapable of doing anything, . This is what they have done not for me but to me. I always feel oppressed (not by anyone though), stupid, depressed and inferior (which I clearly am). We patients have always been dealt with violence. It is unbelievable. There was this one method which was to grab a patient’s arm as it overhung through an entrance of the door in which the patient had been isolated. The patient was then fixed firmly in an arm lock while another nurse would enter the room and administer the injection of a sedative. They usually used Thorazine, which was soon followed by medications such as Prolixin, Haldol, loxapine, Trilafon, Mellaril, Navane and Stelazine, quite a lot don’t you think? Today I got up early, washed, shaved, ate, and drank. Took my medicine and then an injection… at 3.28 pm, yet I’m still very dopey from the paraldehyde.  I slept between breakfast and dinner, because I was tired. At 9.10 p.m. Sammael, my brain (it is called after the Angel of Death) attacked me after Zherneboh, my self-conscious, (Slavic name meaning "black god). It was their usual abusive insulting selves. I felt like my hair was pulled very hard, but there was no one there to pull it which confused me. Sammael put both his hands round my throat and squeezed as hard as he could to suffocate me. You know brother? I find it weird whenever Sammael attacks, because it’s always just me who sees him or feels him. Whenever I’d tell a nurse to save me or even help me, they ignore me and tell me to go back to my room. Nurses are so phony, it’s absurd. I mean they signed up for this job, they WANTED it but now they just mistreat and oppress us, they also convince us that we’re only crazy, I mean what the hell? You feel? Anyways, the threats against Zherneboh may be effective enough to keep the sonuvabitch quiet for a couple of hours. All the injections I had yesterday (unnecessary, of course), were still very painful. Apparently, the thing is to inflict physical pain to stop mental pain. Now let me tell you something, the brain and your self-conscious, these are the leaders in your life. Consider life as art, now Sammael would be Da-Vinci and Zherneboh would be Van Gogh. This means that they’d be the masters. They work together until your last breath. With me, they only attack me, but I don’t blame them for it. I mean have you seen me, I am a mistake in this life. They made me believe this, and now I do. I truly do. I honestly how long I could keep on living this stupid miserable life.

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