“I’m not weak! I’ve survived this shit for a decade! I ENDURED.
But then, I stayed up til four a.m. picking maggots out of our carpet— slimy rice-sized maggots squirming through the carpets in the bedroom —and I drowned them in a plate of pancake syrup.
And you know what? In the morning nothing was in the syrup.”
I’m grateful that you’ve endured, and survived, and that you’re strong enough to share (& thereby help others).
But I wish I’d read this yesterday… I could have invited you to join my family in our inaugural Maple Syrup* Tuesday: neither the Church nor NOLA/US drunkards hold sway over us.
You’ve gotta go for the pure stuff, straight from 🇨🇦’s strategic reserve of unadulterated distilled sunlight.
That’s possibly the most Canadian thing I’ve ever been asked to do. Can we heal the rift between our nations by performing this syrup ritual? Willing to try anything at this point.
What’s weird is that I used to think movies looked different from real life. More… REAL than reality. It was some sort of visual delusion and it wasn’t until I started taking an antipsychotic that I saw clearly. I didn’t have an iPod because I believed life WASNT a movie and adding a soundtrack was lame. My mind’s ear provided the music. And I remember which songs I heard at the time. It’s cool when the reading lines up- that’s why I put the links in there. That will probably happen several times throughout the story depending on the importance of the song. Thanks for reading.
Mine too. I’m not sure if I should smile or smirk :/. It was odd reading your story because I’m like “fuck I wonder if I could saw Vampire Weekend and fallen in love if I ended up at a psych ward” Jesus Christ I’ve always been this way. Someone fucking just teach how to have fun Jesus fukin Christ
“I’m not weak! I’ve survived this shit for a decade! I ENDURED.
But then, I stayed up til four a.m. picking maggots out of our carpet— slimy rice-sized maggots squirming through the carpets in the bedroom —and I drowned them in a plate of pancake syrup.
And you know what? In the morning nothing was in the syrup.”
I’m grateful that you’ve endured, and survived, and that you’re strong enough to share (& thereby help others).
But I wish I’d read this yesterday… I could have invited you to join my family in our inaugural Maple Syrup* Tuesday: neither the Church nor NOLA/US drunkards hold sway over us.
You’ve gotta go for the pure stuff, straight from 🇨🇦’s strategic reserve of unadulterated distilled sunlight.
Like “fetch” (Mean Girls is my wife’s #1, just ahead of Dirty Dancing), I’m trying to make Maple Syrup Tuesday a thing 🤣
But I’m more stubborn (obsessive? hard-headed?) & defo more intelligent than Gretchen Weiner … so let’s see what happens 😊
That’s possibly the most Canadian thing I’ve ever been asked to do. Can we heal the rift between our nations by performing this syrup ritual? Willing to try anything at this point.
I enjoy that I read just fast enough for the writing to match the music. It oddly feels like your brain makes your life cinematic.
What’s weird is that I used to think movies looked different from real life. More… REAL than reality. It was some sort of visual delusion and it wasn’t until I started taking an antipsychotic that I saw clearly. I didn’t have an iPod because I believed life WASNT a movie and adding a soundtrack was lame. My mind’s ear provided the music. And I remember which songs I heard at the time. It’s cool when the reading lines up- that’s why I put the links in there. That will probably happen several times throughout the story depending on the importance of the song. Thanks for reading.
Your world was just moving from scene to scene and then movies made it real
I mean for a moment I was like “hey it’s reverse It’s Kinda A Funny Story”
That’s my favorite psych ward movie!
Mine too. I’m not sure if I should smile or smirk :/. It was odd reading your story because I’m like “fuck I wonder if I could saw Vampire Weekend and fallen in love if I ended up at a psych ward” Jesus Christ I’ve always been this way. Someone fucking just teach how to have fun Jesus fukin Christ
Believe it or not some funny shit happened in this psych ward too but it’s all serious right now.
Having a shithead for a boyfriend, doesn't help when you're in psychological trauma.
You write out that pain so well, Amelia. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us.
He was a shithead for a long time. Him leaving me was one of the best things to ever happen to me. I’m so glad he did.