Tuesday, February 26, 2013

The Fountainhead

“It feels so dirty and pointless and monstrous, as one feels about insanity, because there’s no sense in it, no dignity, nothing but pain- and wasted pain…”
-Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

I woke up to my 29th day here at the mental institution. My medical team here has decided that it’s time for me to switch from the mood and anxiety unit to AIM (The Alternate Inpatient Milieu) in order to more effectively continue my recovery process. There I (once again) have my own room but I’ll also have my own private bathroom- which I’m hoping incites a more regular pooping regime (in every sense of the word). I don’t want to show off, but I’ll also have a phone in my room, which will be fun considering I dropped my iPhone in the tub while bathing Saturday night.
What I’ve learned since my forced admission to this hospital is that I no longer want to die (for now). AIM is a 1st class extension of this institution where I can now decide how I want to go on living. I’ll be spending the next 28 days there and I hope that the staff there will be as patient, determined & helpful as the staff in this unit is. It sort of feels like Meg Ryan in When A Man Loves A Woman or Sandra Bullock in 28 Days. Hopefully there will be some hunky dudes in there although the focus is on sobriety, independence and resoluteness. Still- who doesn’t love some hunky dudes to spice up their day?
If it’s true that once one loses their sense of humor they’ve lost everything, then I’m back to having something to cling to. I’m writing jokes again (much to the chagrin of high-browed humorists). I’m not sure what their purpose is- I can’t foresee myself doing stand-up for a long time to come if ever again. Close friends say that this will change, but I’m not sure. Two years ago I would’ve said that doing stand-up was my lifeblood that it kept my heart beating and my arteries from severing. Any love that deep can turn over to a passionate executioner. I can’t blame the profession; I am merely stating my state. The fact is I haven’t performed since August 2012. My act was erased from my memory (a blessing according to @AriShaffir) because of 10 Electroconvulsive therapy sessions and I haven’t yet wanted to rectify the annulment. I haven’t looked at an old set-list or watched my act. It’s as if I’m angry with it. Besides I do know that it was mostly dick & vag jokes & I’m not sure they have meaning to me anymore. 
My crazy has overshadowed everything else.


Anonymous said...

Love ya Claire.xx

Marilla Wex said...

Hey Claire - so glad to hear you're feeling a little better. It's always a trip reinventing yourself as a sober human being. Good luck!

Christine K. said...

I do love dick and vag jokes, but I love you more.

Christine K. said...

I do love dick and vag jokes, but I love you more.

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