Hey, Crazy Lady! I worry about you! Your eyes are glazed over, busy seeing into worlds that don’t exist for the rest of us. I visit worlds that don’t exist for most people, but you! Your vision has been rerouted into a world of treachery, danger and unrest.
Like a mother with a colicky baby, you walk the earth, listening to screams, staring into space and wishing for release. Where are the people who will help you? No where apparently. People fear and avoid your malevolent stare and the yellow cast of your skin.
I am so sorry for the world you inhabit. I am sorry for the dark and constant anguish of your mental prison and for the isolated and lonely hell you cannot escape.
Doesn’t anyone anywhere love you enough to fight for your return? Isn’t there anyone who would do battle with the powers of darkness to bring you back into the day? My heart aches for you. It bleeds. Everyday you die a little more, while others witness from an uncomfortable distance.
I hear you have a son who is far away. How much farther a child would have to journey to save his own life, when his mama’s world is so unsafe. His wounding must be deep and avoidant.
I took you home with me through my eyes and dreamed of a baby who was never fed and whose diaper was never changed; so much suffering for one so young. In the dream you were my responsibility and I tried to help, but it was too late. You were already seeing white.
So now what? Shall I call social services? They will inquire, Is she a danger to herself or others? The danger is that a good woman has slipped away from us. She has gone far beyond our reach and is lost in a twilight realm between worlds. People cross the street to avoid her, instead of saying, Come sweet sister. Walk this way. You are lost to us and we must get you back. Who knows what treasures you house in that spirit of yours, treasures that will be lost to us forever, if we don’t bring you home again. Your well-being is our concern. Wouldn’t that be nice!
written August, 2005