Me and Pennsylvania

I said once that I had a strange relationship with the state of Pennsylvania.

I was born here but left at the age of 6 months (my father said it was 3).

My mother said once that we flew across country and I had a fever of 105 on the plane and had to get immediate medical attention when they got off the plane.

Much later she changed it and said that we drove across country; I don’t remember what she said about the 105 degree fever.

We were in the NorthWest near Pittsburg.

He moved to start up a company in Silicon Valley with 2 other men. My mother hated California. My father left the company, my mother went back to England. My father found work in Northern New Jersey where it’s nice, and my mother returned to live there with him and they lived there for 22 years (?). He had a hot job in hi-tech. They had some friends from NW PA who had moved to W Reading and we used to drive here often to see them. And they drove to Jersey to see us.

The friends lived in two other places in PA, and then sold everything and went into retirement and toured the United States in an RV. I think that they are all out West now, there were two boys, they are all in hi-tech now as far as i know. They were both in Seattle.

So I came here (to PA) because my father was transferred to a Bell Labs plant here when I was in the middle of a depressive breakdown. The doctors in Cambridge insisted that they take me. I would have preferred to go to the state hospital in Boston but the doctors wouldn’t permit that.

So, this story has been told. I ended up at the state hospital here instead.

Ultimately (two years after I got out), I met my husband, a Canadian seeking to immigrate.

It made sense for both of us. He wanted the Green Card, I wanted anything, anything, to get as far as possible away from the state hospital and threats to send me there. We stuck together 21 years, had a kid, divorced when he turned 18, after living in Florida for about 12 years. First, after leaving for Texas where there was work, the job fell through; we married quietly and left for the West Coast.

To California, which I had always distained but then utterly loved.

But after a while I missed PA. Especially the strong church presence.

Now that I’m back I haven’t been able to settle here. I’m not sure why everyone has been so cruel. It’s been that way all along when I have stayed here. I have been physically harmed and since being left in the woods in December in the middle of a psych hospitalization and close to death I am asked at the point of the threat of the police not to shop at any of the local supermarkets. Maybe I still look a little weird but I am a human person and I need goods and services like anything else. AND I HAVE NOT COMMITTED ANY CRIMES. AND I AM QUITE SANE.

So, now I am looking around and wondering how PA looks to the average person in an average life moving here for whatever reason. I know I really liked it when I drove here in ’86 (’85?) when I drove here to visit after my parents had moved here. I wasn’t welcomed by my family. I wanted to get away from the rat race in New York and Boston. It seemed so beautiful here.

Decades later. I have wound up having to seek inpatient psych care here.

When I first did, in ’86, it was like Francis Farmer, the famous film actress of the 40’s. She wanted to quite acting and come home to her mother and be married and live a quiet life.

Instead, her mother got help putting her in a state hospital where they did a lobotomy on her.

Me? They tortured me almost to death with a clamped catheter when I kept trying to pull the catheter off because it was hurting me so badly

This time around (last year, or was it two years ago?), instead of taking out the frontal lobe they took out what was left of the clit. I won’t say why or how but it happened.

Then, I went to Philhaven Hospital in Mt. Gretna and they did a beautiful job of letting me heal and recover. I have NO IDEA if any of this was intentional but it was good. Then, they let me go, which was incredible. I drew crayon pictures of aliens and other things and taped them to the outside of my door.

Finally, my father came to pick me up and brought me back here to his home.

The point is, that is another thing that has changed that I didn’t even think of. Regarding my behavior, my writing, my manners, my ideas, my social interactions, my conversation. Along with the “mole-wart” being taken out, the agnoy in my private area is done. Gone. Not there any more sending painful jolts to my brain and creating OCD to avoid them and literally paralyzing me. That was what the mole-wart capped off.

This really is truly incredible I’ve been noticing it going off quickly in the last few weeks. Maybe the synergy of numerous different different things coming to a close at the same time. I myself am profoundly astounded to see and realize this. I have another two months, according to my own estimate, for this to come to completion.