Performance Art

Performance art. That was something that went by with the 80s as I remember it.

But that’s was where I continued to inhere all these years pending ongoing psychoanalysis attaching to my old psychoanalyst in Cambridge. Mass., whom I touched based with now and again over the decades that followed after leaving.

The 80s. I was stuck there in my head.

In ’88 I was on a ward at the state mental hospital here in PA, and involved in a skirmish with a male patient much older than myself who barely spoke English.

I declared to myself that I wanted to be “God’s instrument;” (like Mozart.)

So, I got my nail scissors from the nurses station and cut this person’s toenails as several other patients watched. I was encouraged in this regard. A female patient said, “She thinks she’s Mary.” That wasnt exactly true but it dogged me afterward.

So, today I connected that that was the beginning of “performance art on the psych ward” in my life.

6 years later, after I had the baby, i went to the worlds premiere psych ward at Johnson Hopkins Hospital in Maryland, and found out exactly what makes a psych ward tick.

I went to another psych hospital in Maryland when we moved there shortly afterward and I commandeered it over a racial agenda that my ex husband had put upon me, I talked about this so many times. Guarding the grape juice (“The Color Purple.”) Boycotting the orange juice (OJ Simpson and Judge Clarence Thomas were on trial.)

I was a body in motion in a limited setting that was like a psychological and physical gymnasium.

It was the same when I wound up on the Memorial Hospital psych in Tampa, Florida in 2003. I was so ill and once again off the meds. The Charge Nurse verified to my mind that I was better without then but i had to take them so that I could sleep. And, things DID get worse for me.

I had everyone on the ward in a thrall over my bizarre OCD.

But, I stayed alive; for a better time. Which is now on Clozaril, which doesnt do those bad things to my mind, heart, body, and, soul.

God went ahead of me!!!

Through those impossible times.

Today about 4 or 5 40 year agendas are slowly but surely proving through all together all at once through the Lords leading.

So, I have often said to my father that I am his solution to the problem of original sin.

After talking with him last night and waking up this morning to today; I realized that I have also been my sister’s lifelong solution to existentialist crisis.

So, I am free!!!

Its a beautiful day.

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