Sunday, September 18, 2011
The clothes are hanging on the line like prayer flags and I had the strangest and most realistic dream that a woman and her family came to help me out when the new grandbaby was born but I ended up taking care of the family and I finally told the mother, "Look, you are not helping me and it was so sweet of you to come but honestly, you need to go home now."
I was assertive, not aggressive. I know this because back when I did my clinicals at Florida State Hospital in Chattahoochee, I attended one of the staff-run classes every week on assertiveness versus aggression and I know the difference.
Oh my god. Those classes were a joke. They must have been state-mandated or something.
Cuckoo's Nest had nothing on this place except that there was no chance, no chance at all for escape once you were in there. Still, I have fond memories of some of the patients. "My" patient, for example. "Mawee," she would say, "I have pwobwems."
She did. Oh, she did indeed and I reported some of them to the Powers That Be. The staff-induced problems, but I doubt seriously anything was ever done about them and she's no doubt dead by now or at least in the brain.
Sunday morning. Time to get in the garden. Winter's garden is a good one and we shall start it today. The lettuces!
Oh, I love the lettuces. It will be good to get in the dirt because I am wavering this morning between the me of the weary, maddening heart and the me of the I'm-not-so-bad and perhaps the dirt will tip the balance in my brain.
One can only hope.