Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Breaking Out

I checked myself out from the clinic today.
The process was fast and unsentimental. Nobody said goodbye. I didn't care. I just wanted to get the fuck out of there. I was done with being treated like an invalid or worse, a delusional idiot. My discharge date had been scheduled for Tuesday, next week, but I was already at my limit.
A little money came to me earlier than expected. I notified the registrar that I was leaving. I filled in various administrative forms and phoned a car hire company. Orderlies started to remake my bed and vacuum around it even before I'd finished packing my few possessions – a reminder that the clinic is, after all, primarily a business. I left a vase of long-stemmed red roses, the texture of their petals like bloodied velvet, on the bedside table.
I drove in peak hour traffic to a hotel in a neighbourhood I'd never spent much time in before. The room was simple, stylish and quiet. I sighed with relief as I took it all in. For the first time in 10 weeks, a nurse wouldn't be intruding to check on me every couple of hours.
I lay in the deep white bath for an hour and let the hot water lap around me. I scrubbed away the city grime, sweat and dried tears from my skin.
When I left the clinic, a nurse told me me that everything would feel 'too much' for a few days. She was wrong. I can't get enough. Maybe I'm stronger, healthier, and more rested. Maybe I'm determined to discredit one of my psychiatrists' opinion that I needed to live "a life more ordinary".
I have an insistent, voracious appetite to go after everything I ever wanted but didn't dare to – until now.

15 comments:

JenXer said...

I didn't read these as the words of someone for whom it was "all too much." I read them as the words of someone ready to slough off the last of the hospital funk, and get back to kicking ass. Art is war- and a general has returned to the field.

Welcome back.

Mona said...

Indeed...welcome back & good to have you back into this world! Stay well...
Regards/

Di said...

Enjoy.

amandajayne said...

death or close to it comes to people who live a more ordinary life. Good choice, I am sure you will prove that psy. wrong.

Carrie said...

It's good to have you back...and from the tone of your latest posts, I say you'll be just fine.

Damn glad to have you back.

Michael Radcliffe said...

You know - someone once said to me that maybe depression isn't what we think it is. Maybe all it is is just a need for deep, deep rest.

I don't know how literally I'd take that, but it does ring true in some senses. Maybe that was what you needed for 10 weeks, and now the time for rest has finished.

Godammit it's good to have you back.

Angela Hunt/Hunt Press said...

"A life more ordinary"...?

What a horrible and horrific thing to say to an artist.

Go on out and take fresh advantage of the world, Hazel. It's ripe for the taking.

Welcome back!

Aminah K. ♠♣♥♦ said...

I'm really glad to see that

Neo said...

Since 140 characters are not enough to write it all out at once:

Hazel.

Thanks a lot for pointing the fallacy in my statement regarding my comment on Twitter. Of course I don't know you enough to judge you. And my apologies for indirectly doing so after realizing it did sound judgmental after reading it few times over and over again.

I have reframed my question (which I had intended to ask to you in the first place) and you can either respond to it or not (upto you). But I just wanted to clarify the point.

Neo.

PS: You are one of the few artists whose work has really influenced my thinking and hence, at times, I get excited to talk to you and I create a mess. Pardon it.

Anonymous said...

Kick ass! - Monique

Joseph said...

Take no prisoners Hazel! All the best to you. You are a fine artist and the most human of human beings that I have ever read!

Jo-Ann Sanborn said...

Yes, it was time for you to move on,on your own terms. Good for you.

karo Akpokiere said...

Good news. :-)

Zoe Tan said...

Great to have you back! ;)

Solemn Reverie said...

...a life more ordinary, surprisingly, is the one thing that keeps me sane....