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I wake up in a cold room. Instead of a mattress I am sleeping on a couch cushion. My jacket is on with many layers underneath. I can see my breath and frost on the windowpane. I empty my pockets...if I have a dollar I will go to Burger King and get some hash browns. all I have is thirteen cents. I pull my hood back over my head and fall back asleep.
I wake up in a warm room. It feels like I have been asleep forever. It's a hospital. Oh, I'm not free to leave. I look at the paper menu on the table and see the date: December thirty-first, 2011. The day after Christmas was when I rushed those guards and got injected with a chemical restraint. My New Year's resolution is to go back to sleep.
I wake up and smell clean sheets. The sun is climbing over the high rises on Sheridan. I am in my own place. I can have cereal or a kiwi for breakfast. There is fresh coffee to be ground.
I am a real body in the real world. Now that I'm on medicare and my sleep apnea is being treated, I sleep so deep and wake up so early. Now that I don't smoke I actually have dreams. Dreams of being trapped by psychiatry or poverty.
-Ben Merrell
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I get up early in the morning...
The sun shining in my penthouse, I can see...
Blue clouds when I look up...
The sun shining off the lake.
Damn it feels great...
Hard work pays off...
More work to finish...
So I'm up early...
Making music.
I can hear the birds sing a song...
Saying, "God is Good..."
I don't eat to work...
So don't worry about eating...
So I close my eyes...
I'll thank the lord for a new day...
I go to work like I was going to school...
Cause I like Old School Music...
Music takes me away...
When I have nowhere to go...
Nobody to talk to...
So I get my pen and paper...
I'm working...
That's what I call work...
Every place I go...
From my home to school...
I'm superior with my work...
I'm higher when writing...
I'm spaced out when I'm smoking weed...
I'm RAM when I finish my masterpiece...
I call that good quality.
-Jeremie Younger
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The Dawn Center is very important to me because I feel I learn a lot about mental illness. When I am on the street I try to reflect on what I learn at the drop-in center.
While I am at home I carry out what I learn at the drop-in center, like coping skills, how to relax and self control. I sill need to work in the self control department. I need to write in a journal. But sometimes I get writer's block.
My main issue right now is anger. I am frustrated because I keep waling out of group because I'm trying to lead a group and people are talking and it makes me angry.
Panhandlers on the street piss me off.
-Richard Taylor
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I live in Chicago and I like to go downtown because there is a lot of things to do there like walking the Mag Mile, going to Millennium Park, and going to Navy Pier. That makes me happy.
My mom and my sisters moved to Atlanta, Georgia. My wife and I went to visit for three weeks. I like it down there because it gets hot and also there is a lot to do as well, like going to the Coke-a-Cola Company, walking through the Olympic Park, and going to the CNN building. Now, to me, that is fun as well, because it is a lot like Chicago.
-Eric Taylor
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My head
Scrambled and confused
Unable to form cohesive sentences
Stuck on the need to be perfect,
To find the right word,
Phrase and paragraph
Forever crossing out this for that
And coming back to this
I hunch up my shoulders
Letting the scattered stress settle in
Filling, tugging and permeating my upper body
Causing my breath to catch
Teeth to grind
Dizziness and confusion ensue
Why do I do this to myself?
Why can't I just be okay...now?
It is exhausting, this journey from the head to my core
Guts wanting to hold on
Hoping for a good outcome
Under the illusion that I can be the captain
Of that "control" ship
Every location of this place called my body
#1 Brain
#2 Teeth
#3 Neck
#4 Lungs
#5 Guts
#6 I won't even to into the nether regions...
That's a whole other poem...
All these places are worn out...
Dependent on the up and down of my moods
The clarity
Or lack thereof
Of my mental status
Difficult to gauge
If I'm up
I'm light
If I'm down
I'm lead
In the middle
An undiscovered country
One I hope to visit
More often than naught.
-Elizabeth Hipwell
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My church is the one place I enjoy, because when trouble comes my way I can go and talk to God and tell him my problems and I can cry to him if I want to. He will listen to me and he will not tell anyone what I told him. If I am mad I can also tell God.
My second place is to be out doors in a park where you can walk on a path and look at the trees and the squirrels having fun. I feel that they don't have to worry. They have a cozy home in the trees. They can run up and down the trees and go find nuts to eat.
The next location is my bedroom. If I am sad I can always go to my room and sit and cry, or just lay down, take a nap and be under a warm blanket where I can be in my own little world where no one bothers me or tells me to get out of their space. If I decide to I can have my door shut and watch TV.
I picked these three places because I can be myself at Church; just me and God. In a park with a path, nature and squirrels are fun to watch. I can also talk to God because he is everywhere. I picked the third and final place, my bedroom, because I feel safe in my room with the door shut. It is peaceful and I can talk to God too if I want to.
THE END
-Margie Taylor
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THREE
PLACES I CONNECT TO:
Amusement
Park
Rollercoaster
Picnic
Table
As
a small girl, growing up with my Mom, during the Summer, we would always got to
the amusement park, at least once amonth, my Mom would pack the red and white
metal picnic basket, with Southern fried chickent, homemade potato salad, and
fresh gread. Shen we arrived, she would put the food in the locker and we would
go on the rides. I loved all the rides, except the roller coaster.
However,
one day I decided to give it a try.
My
Mom asked me, “Are you sure?”
My
heart started racing, my stomach got upset, and I turned as white as a ghost.
Can you see me urning white as a ghost? I did, and I said, “Sure, I’m not
afraid.” She put me on the rollercoaster. The darn thing started to move up,
and up it went. I thought to myself, ‘This isn’t so bad.’ It stopped at the
top, which seemed to take forever, and then it started movind down faster and
faster. Oh my God!
I
held those handle bars so tight. I think my hands became a part of them. Tears
came to my eyes, and I held my breath for the rest of the ride. It finally
ended and my Mom helped me out of the coaster car, and said, “How was the ride?”
I
gave her this fake smile and said, “I loved it,” knowing the whole time that I
was lying to myself. I thank my higher power that she she didn’t listen to me.
We then proceeded to the picnic table. She took out the paper plate, plastic
forks and cups. Then she served the food.
My
hands were still shaking from the ride. I could barely keep my food on the
fork. That was one day I could not wait to go back home. The next time we went
to the amusement park, and every time thereafter, I did not mention the rollercoaster.
Thank God my Mom did not either.
-Joanne
Taylor
