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  2. It makes me so uncomfortable to be around some people that my stomach gets all tangled and confused. It’s the sudden realization that there are people around me and it feels completely unreal. In these moments, there is no connection between them and me; it’s like when I’m drunk, look at myself in the mirror and suddenly, everything is so real. I can see their movements but I don’t understand them. Time happens without me. I tell my face to smile so no one realizes how completely terrified I am.

    Be still, be calm, keep calm.

    It’s like when I’ve ridden my bike while being intoxicated and the wind makes me feel that it has my life in it. If I close my eyes, it will all disappear but I have to get home first. You breathe by taking air in through the lungs and then letting it out. Like this.

    Maybe these are moments of clarity. Maybe if they were longer, I would actually dissolve into water instead of just feeling like I was. 

     


  3. “You understand so much…. I wish you had more time…. to be blissful, happy, to be young. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. You shouldn’t have to worry about these things.”

    A girl came into the café on Friday. She is nineteen. She told me how she is on medication now and that she feels a lot better. She is also taking dance classes and she isn’t taking as many medications anymore. She told me that her psychiatrist is crazy and that she is only taking one of the two medications she is supposed to be taking because one of them is too expensive. Her psychiatrist doesn’t let her have her own pills; she has to ask her family for them. He thinks she’ll kill herself.

    She hasn’t told her psychiatrist about her problems with rage. When she gets angry, she throws everything around her and says mean things to the people around her. Her psychiatrist would kill her (with a hand motion and everything) if he knew she had these episodes.

    When she was in the in the psychiatric ward here, she wasn’t allowed to have any of her Poe or Lovecraft books. Her sister would bring her food that had fat in it because, at the psychiatric ward, they only served light food. Her sister would also bring some for a friend she had made there. He had tried to burn his house down with his whole family in it.

    She ordered a coffee and later we drank a tea together. I asked her if she felt stable. She shrugged, “Not really… if I could get out of here, of living with my family, I would be better, if I could take my own pills and take care of myself.” I asked her if she thought she was ready to take care of herself. She shrugged, again, “If I were somewhere else, I could have my friends help me.”

    I don’t know how I feel about what my parents’ friend told me. He and his wife asked me a lot of questions and they made me tired. I don’t feel cheated out of being young, careless or blissful but people tell me that I have been. People my parents know in the US tell me that. Life doesn’t owe me anything. I am blessed; I have a roof over my head, food to eat and my health. 

     

  4. painting my way to a better future 

     

  5. oh ok

     

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  12. Little ocean farmers 

     

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  14. nataliegonzalezwork:

    New drawings, 2014

     

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