Roller Coaster Ride of Insanity

April showers bring May flowers: at least, that’s what my psychiatrist used to tell me. He was referring to the fact that if I put in the time and the effort to get well and took my meds, I would, most likely, be able to flourish in my world. But, how the hell did he have any idea what my world was like! My world had major roadblocks of voices and noises and highs and lows. I always sensed that I was on an ear-splitting roller coaster than never stopped, just climbed to the top and then plunged to the bottom. My life rained all the time and there were never any flowers.

But then, I began to hear the voices encouraging me to go ahead and plant the damn flowers since my life was all washed up any way. Soon, I was planting bulbs and seeds and whole plants from the nursery, digging deeply into the soil with my bare hands. It felt exhilarating to let the dirt sift through my fingers as I dug a huge hole, never stopping, although it was way too big for the plants I had bought. I couldn’t stop because I felt I was having a breakthrough as I dredged the refuse from my life in little gobs and bits. I looked down at my transparent hands in amazement as they bled into the rich earth, exorcising my sins and horrendous thoughts.

I closed my eyes in rhapsody as I realized that, although the flowers did not fit, I could fill the hole with my problems, cover them up completely and leave the demons there to fester and suffocate. “And that, officer, is why I had to murder my psychiatrist!”