Abt My Mother

I have to beg for indulgence toward her, I am thinking that she is still living.

Please remember the picture I painted of her that I saw of her in my mind, running through a deep forest in a flowered dress terrified of being skinned alive by natives. It was so horrifying to me.

I loved my mother. Things came between us. It never went too far. Please do not blame her, she was a young woman of 22 when she had me in a foreign country as wild and strange as America that she had been taught to dislike. She came here thinking that she would teach people–how to speak, for instance! And she had little formal education herself beyond the equivalent of 12th grade. My inception came just 4 months after my brother was born, she was NOT ready for me. And it is acknowledged that she suffered congenital mental or neurological deficiency, like her brother, who jumped in the River Thames in London at 21 and lived out his life in an institution near there, until he died at 50.

We are an English family, we are also Jewish on her side, we have always run from hatred, and found help in the arms of immigrant Jews like ourselves, except that my father is a mixed up working class Irish Catholic Englishman who just didn’t get it.

On the psych ward and before I went, when I was cleaning up after the ALIEN, I found my heart in the John Lennon song, “Let It Be.”

Praying for my mother tonight.

God’s works every nanosecond to the good for every living being who loves God and is called according to His purposes for them. My mother didn’t openly worship the Lord but she always quoted Psalm 29 (?) “He maketh me to lay down in green pastures…”

Oh, and, I do have to register a complaint against roommates S. and A. and Acting Senior Tutor Eliot Cohen, a Nuclear Disarmament Specialist, who walked me to the Mental Health Agencies on the suspicion that I was suicidal when in fact I just took off to Dudley House–the off-campus dining room and facility for the needs of off-campus students popular among alienated students like me. The power of suggestion from this WAS WHAT LED ME TO THE BIZARRE, FRIVOLOUS INEFFECTUAL WRIST-CUTTING which ruined my life up until this very day. Those two small cuts hurt my whole nerve system. I got nervous ticks all over my face, my breasts were affected, I got a pinched nerve in my ankle. I was too unconscious of myself to attempt to cover my wrists and didn’t realize that those cuts were the first things anybody saw about me after that. Now, annoyingly, its the opposite. You can’t see them any more and people don’t believe the story.

So, thanks, gals. All I did was take a mental holiday and I got a life sentence in the mental health system.