Your Insanity Is My Reality

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I’ve heard someone say that if you question your sanity, you’re sane. If you question your sanity, you must, in some sense, be in touch with reality to the point you know the difference between sanity and insanity. However, don’t you think if you’re questioning your sanity, you must to some extend be mad enough you feel the need to question your sanity? Likewise, if I don’t question my sanity at all, don’t you think I’m at peace with myself enough to be sane?

 

I’m talking to myself again.

 

How did I become like this?

 

All I remember is waking up here, I have no recollection of before that. I remember looking down at my feet and thinking, how am I supposed to tie my shoes now? The doctors kept asking me if I’m okay. Shouldn’t they be the ones answering that? Obviously if they locked me up here they must, to some extend, believe I’m not.  

 

Am I okay?

 

I’m not even sure how I would answer that.

 

Questions, questions, questions. They keep asking what happened. Why I am the way I am. Isn’t it your job to tell me? If I knew what was wrong with me, do you really think I’d be here?

 

Trying to stay sane is like a full time hobby. I go to the doctor everyday. He tries to figure me out. I hate it. You’re not a mindreader, you’re a doctor. Fix me.

 

They realize they can’t, so they lock me up again.

 

Oh padded walls, how I missed thee.

 

I don’t know why they won’t tell me what happened. They think it’ll help me, locking me up in solitude, forcing me to think about where these scars could have possibly come from.

 

I don’t know.

 

I don’t know.

 

I keep telling them- I don't know.

 

They keep asking me questions about my family, my friends, my childhood. The problem with doctors is they believe in black and white. They believe there is a scientific formula to pinpoint exactly what is wrong with humanity. What they don’t understand is gray. They don’t understand they area between yes and no. They don’t understand the unexplainable, therefore, they avoid it.

 

They lock me up.

 

Don’t you understand? I’m only trying to get rid of you.


 

Oops, I’m talking to myself again.

 

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