Mad in America
MAY 9, 2024
“It seemed to me that all language is an excess of language” —Samuel Beckett A s an urban community mental health therapist, part of my job is meeting with new intakes and completing their comprehensive assessment—their first step in getting connected to a primary therapist and psychiatrist, and a document they’ll need if they apply for any special programs.
Mad in America
MAY 9, 2024
I hear the music again. It’s my mother singing through the clay earth from her grave the way she sang from her bed at the asylum until they shut her up. I move to the tune one thousand miles from her coffin, my body dipping this way and that as if I’m a hummingbird in one of her Fabergé eggs, forever bobbing at honeysuckle. My body stiffens. I’ve been betrayed by the sweetness she still conjures from her insulin-soaked life, those days doctors and nurses drowned her with sugar water until she fe
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