Help Me

My voice, it shrieks.
It reaches into the corners of the ceiling
Of this little room with no windows.
I say things I don’t want to say,
And then everyone judges me, who hears.
But my shrieks are just
Me, trying to survive…

Inside my mind, there lives a
Host of characters.
One is green, with the consistency of taffy.
Green Taffy laughs like a goblin, and emits
Electricity that shocks my head
Every time I do something wrong.
Then there’s another friend who
Calls himself Sven.  When I lived
Back home, we’d watch
YouTube videos together.  He’d always
Sit next to me on that dirty couch
I got on Craigslist.
My wife wanted to join us,
But I said no.  Sven said she couldn’t.

And then there’s MARTYR.

MARTYR is a karate master.  He tells me that I gotta “Kung-fu” my way through life.  I have to give a “hi-ya!” karate chop to anyone who crosses me.  Because… the secret president of the New World Order is waiting for me at the Falkland Islands.  His name is Dr. Johnson Jackson, and I’m gonna help him rule the world when his time comes.  Right now, MARTYR is preparing me.  I’m his only student.  He tells me that I’m gonna be the world’s best ninja that ever lived.  He disciplines me with Green Taffy’s electric shocks, and he says that Sven is my only friend, my wife don’t know shit….

At least, that’s what MARTYR says.
The doctors in this hospital here… they don’t agree with him.
They tell me he’s not real.
They tell me that, even if he was real,
He’s torturing me, and he needs to go away.

The doctors in this hospital give me meds, the meds
Help me.
I talk to a psychologist, she
Helps me to see
That MARTYR and Sven and Green Taffy are not real.  I pray to you, God,
Help me to be strong.
I don’t want to be a ninja,
Help me to be normal.
I don’t give a shit about Dr. Johnson Jackson anymore, please
Help me to forget these bastards.
I go to group therapy… Please, God,
Help me to grow and learn how to not be crazy anymore.

DON’T THROW ME IN HERE!!!
MY ARM MOVED BY ITSELF!!!

I DON’T WANT TO BE CRAZY ANYMORE!
I’M BANGING MY FISTS AGAINST THIS WALL,
INSIDE THIS LITTLE ROOM… I WANT TO COOPERATE!!

I DON’T WANT TO BE CRAZY ANYMORE!
I’M KNOCKING ON THE DOOR LIKE GOD SAID, WHY AREN’T YOU OPENING IT?!?!

I DON’T WANT TO BE CRAZY ANYMORE!
I NEVER WANTED TO BE CRAZY IN THE FIRST PLACE!
I NEVER WANTED MARTYR TO START TALKING TO ME IN MY HEAD!
I NEVER WANTED TO LOSE MY JOB!
I NEVER WANTED TO HURT MY WIFE…

BECAUSE IT WAS MARTYR WHO TOLD ME TO SLAY HER.
HE TOLD ME THAT IF I DIDN’T, THEN DR. JOHNSON JACKSON WOULD
ZAP MY HEAD WITH GREEN TAFFY
AND THEN I’D BE DEAD.

Dr. JJ’s not the doctor.
You’re the real doctors.
I want to get these bastards out of my head,
As much as you do.

Don’t fucking throw me away.

HELP ME.

neesas1

Neesa Suncheuri works as a mental health peer specialist at a housing agency in Queens, New York.  She is the founder of a Facebook discussion group for peer specialists and other recovery enthusiasts, entitled “What is Wellness?  A Mental Health Discussion Group.”  Much of her creative inspiration is rooted in her now-tamed schizophrenia.  She writes poetry and fiction, and maintains a blog called Unlearning Schizophrenia.  She is also a singer/songwriter, and an enthusiast for the German language and culture.  Follow her on Twitter at @neesasuncheuri.

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