Stigma in My Sleep
Last night I dreamt that it was revealed that Al Franken (who won, by the way) had schizophrenia. People were very upset about it. He got on a bus with me and some people I knew, and everyone was nervous around him, as though he might “go off” at any moment. When we all arrived at our destination — some kind of summer camp — Franken disappeared, and everyone got very uncomfortable with his absence. We looked around and finally found a bathroom that was locked. We heard a struggle inside. We pried open the door and there was Franken, stuffing a small girl’s body into a paper bag. He had killed and mutilated her.
Isn’t that horrible? What’s (possibly) worse is that because I worked in the mental health field, I was expected to be able to handle things. I took the bag out of his hands and pulled the folded body out and lay it down on the floor. I knew I was supposed to be grossed out, so I pretended to swoon. But I wasn’t grossed out. I felt nothing. And I was ashamed to feel nothing.
Prior to that? I dreamt I was watching a TV special about rehabilitating serial killers.
Dark nights, my friends.
liz | 10:03 AM | SCHIZOPHRENIA, stigma
sounds like you’ve also been listening to the news too much…that girl in the bag sounds like the sandra cantu story.
Stuart Smalley would say, “Liz, You had a violent nightmare lastnight and that’s… O-KAY.”
Prestiq has helped produce some really awful and violent dreams/nightmares. Luckily, they’re very sporadic, now.
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