Saturday, September 02, 2006

why my pockets hurt


In the spring of 1990, I was fifteen, and I was locked in a mental institution. The Simpsons had just debuted that winter and the show was wildly popular. Even the most sadistic nurses allowed up to stay up past our bedtime to watch it. Besides, it kept us out of trouble. For the half an hour The Simpsons were on, we were normal adolescents, snorting and laughing. For that short time, even the florescent lighting seemed kinder.

Since that spring, I've been in three hospitals, one residential psychiatric facility, and one day program. I've been diagnosed with Major Depression, Double Depression, Alcoholism, and most importantly, with Borderline Personality Disorder. I've been arrested, thrown in jail, committed and medicated. Throughout it all, The Simpsons, my sense of humor and mental illness have been my constant companions. Writing about this entertaining and ridiculous journey has always seemed to help. So here goes.

1 comment:

betty said...

welcome! i'm like the blog very much!