Friday, May 11, 2012

Dear Friend


Dear Friend,

I know my 'circumstance' has our relationship in flux. It is perfectly understandable and I bear you no ill will for any decision you make as regards your participation in my life. I only want you to know a few things of consequence that you might take action based on fact and not supposition.

I loath having to use the word at all, schizophrenia, because it conjures the inevitable visions of machete wielding serial killers in hockey masks and babbling crones begging cigarettes from strangers. But there it is, I’ve said it, love it or leave it. It’s not like I can do anything about it, nor that I went to the nuthouse installation garage when I was young and bored and wanting of a mental malady I could call my very own. I do the drugs, most days they work. But, as you know, some days they don’t.

Some might consider me dangerous simply because of my branding, regardless of my history or present situation. I’d like to think I’m not; I’ve never had a passing thought that provoked me to consider violence, rather than curl into a ball and wait out the firestorm when I’m so distraught and afraid I’d think of lashing out.

But that’s my truth when I’m here and now. I could never say never in the ‘there and then’. I have no guarantees when I am not truly, 100 per cent in control. So automatically when I’m feeling something coming to the fore, I retreat to my space, I shut down as many senses as I might be able and leave those few friends and acquaintances I have, to their peaceful and happy as can be existences. I can’t do it any other way, I can’t risk losing what is only mine by the sheerest of threads. Some struggle with my not wanting to be witnessed at my worst, but by my experience even those of stout heart have left me with apologies when I wanted none. I would far rather know you one day soon than never again.

I’d be sorry were it my doing, I’d ask forgiveness if it was relevant. And I’d tell you to get lost if that’s truly what I wanted, but I’m afraid it’s not. I am a complicated cur, being friends with me will not be a thing of beauty, but it could be one of enormous character if I may be so bold. Trust that if you remain in my circle I will be there for you every moment I am available to be there at all; as silly as that may sound, it is a promise few could make come true. And if you decide it’s all too much, know that I will remember you fondly and never speak your name in a negative context. I accept my fate as it is, I only wish it were easier for those around me to accept it as well.

If on the morrow I've been lost, found lacking every social grace
please leave me to my rocking, as I'm bound to crawl back home
it's comfort that I'm after, it's a shelter from this maddening pace
it's lessening by a hundred beats, life's taunting metronome

If you've come by and find me mute, give time that I'll relearn my voice
please sit with me if you've the will, that I might know your care
it's metaphor that I've misplaced, I've not one more grammatic choice
to paint the prison I've become, to lay my anguish bare

If this is asking more from you than all you have and then more yet
I understand and hold no grudge, I'm comfortable alone
But please don't fear, just walk away and leave me here with no regret
once comes my reawakening, I'll tell you all I've known

2 comments:

  1. Ah, dear friend. I hope the good days outweigh the bad.

    xxx

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