The Weird Kid

I went into a mental ward when I was 18. Twice, two separate hospitals.

I wish my parents had come to see me, either time.

I recently asked Mom why they never came to see me, not even after I was discharged. After my final discharge a friend, the bride of the wedding I've written about, took me in. Dad sent her mom some money, though. I couldn't stay long. I was...I was too much for them, needed more help than those two kind women could provide.

Mom said, "Your dad had a thing about...mental...people who were...." and then repeated a sloppy version of a story dad used to tell, about trying to repair phone lines in a mental hospital, how claustrophobic and angry it made him to have all those fucking nutjobs staring at him, at his tool belt. I asked why she didn't come alone, then. She shrugged and said she was sorry.

But once, just this one time, when it was really bad and I'd come home cuz I had no where else to go, even though I knew they didn't want me. This one time, Dad hugged me on the balcony while I cried and he'd never ever done that before and never after and he said, very seriously, "Einstein, he had problems, too you know. What you've got is because you're so smart. Genius and crazy are very close together."

But the next day he screamed at me, called me a fucking little shit, because....I can't remember! I can't remember what I'd done!!!


But he held me that one time!!!!! i'm so grateful, fuck it! It's so stupid but I'm so fucking grateful!!!