8 rooms, 7 mirrors, 6 clocks, 2 minds &
199 panes of glass
Madness strips things down to their core. It takes everything and in
exchange offers only more madness, and the occasional ability to see
things that are not there.
03.28.06 There were so many beginnings I had to choose one, and since
this is a story of anniversaries 03.28.06 seemed the most appropriate.
That is the day I began to hear voices. Three of them, quite distinct.
Two are taunting and the third voice is mine, as I have heard it externally,
on a tape recording or answering machine. That voice has some reserve,
it seldom makes itself heard. The others are a constant. They all live
in my right ear which rather makes sense as I spontaneously went deaf
in that ear a decade ago and it has been vacant ever since. As time
and treatment progressed they have stopped screaming and contribute
only a dull murmur. Except at bedtime, at bedtime they like to sing.
It presents itself as a sing-song - Rapid cycling, mixed state bipolar
with schizoaffective disorder.
The problem with madness is that you can feel it coming but when you
tell people you think you are going crazy they do not believe you. It
is too distant a concept. Too melodramatic. You don’t believe
it yourself until you have fallen so quickly and so far that your fingernails
are the only thing holding you up, balanced with your feet dangling
on either side of a narrow fence with your heart and mind directly over
center, so that when you do fall it will split you in two. And split
equally. So there’s not even a stronger side left to win.
I began to break time down.
Smaller and smaller parcels are easier to digest, easier to recognize,
easier to bear.
This would be the math:
3 + 1/2 years
1307 days (taking into account the leap year)
I would anatomize it further but it might make me appear obsessive.
The misfirings of my beloved/despised mind that conspire to convince
me to destroy all have rendered me housebound and led to a solitary
life. A creature of past, proof, memory and imaginary friends, I am
aware enough to know the things I see and hear are not real, but that
does not mean I do not still see and hear them.
Over three and one half years I have spent alone amidst these 8 rooms,
7 mirrors, 6 clocks, 2 minds and 199 panes of glass. And this is what
I saw here. This is what I learned.
I figure it could go one of two ways- I will either capture my ascension
from madness to as much a level of sanity for which one of my composition
could hope, or I will leave a document of it all, in the case that I
should lose. - Lauren E. Simonutti