The Door to Nowhere: My Story
Was it really only yesterday? My dad would get me up at dawn, we'd skip breakfast and head down to the creek to fish 'cause he always said the best time for fishin' was during the "morning rise" and the "evening rise". "But even during stormy periods, the fish won't give up feeding", he'd say, "The smart fisherman will find just the right bait." When flies like caddis flies or mayflies hatched out we'd have to match our flies with the hatching flies or go fishless. Dad taught me all these things, 'bout fishin, like it's best when the breeze is from the west rather than from the east or north and if the water is rippled or still, rather than during a wind.
Was it really only yesterday that he and I were wading in the water, reeling in fish and soaking up the sun as the morning mountain breeze wound down through the valley, swirling 'round my gear and nipping at my nose? I could picture dad watching me as I cast my line, congratulating me on every catch, instilling pride in me and my developing fly fishing skills. Was it really only yesterday? As I slowly awoke from my stupor I gradually came to the realization that it wasn't really only yesterday. The fellowship and love my father and I shared was more like a reminiscence of yesteryear, more like a dream for I hardly know what is real and what is imagined anymore.
I'm feeling funny, I feel restrained, so I open my eyes. My arms! My arms! They're gone, what happened to my arms! I look around at the four walls of the padded room around me. Still groggy and disoriented from the medication they gave me yesterday, the walls, they are moving in waves, I can't remember why I'm here...yet...but I know it will all come back to me in a few minutes or hours, though every time is different. This has become a routine I'm very familiar with now and I know, I tell myself, if I just remain quiet and wait this will all sort itself out.
Suddenly I hear a voice come over the room's speaker "Luke? Luke, we're coming in to take off your straight jacket" and the door opens. For the moment my head has stopped swirling, I realize my arms are rapped around me confined in the straight jacket I'm wearing. I recognize the two attendants as they come in to settle me down. Every time I see them, they tell me their names but I can't remember those names because I only know their real names, Promises and Lies. Their job is to keep me happy while I'm here so one promises me things will be alright and the other lies about everything I ask. They don't fool me, not any more, I know what their jobs are.
First Promises gives me medication and after a few minutes of observing me and questions like "How are you feeling?" "Do you know where you are?" they take off my straight jacket. Promises tells me the doctor will be in soon to check on me so I'd better be on good behavior if I want to get out soon and Lies adds, "I hear you may have a visitor today, too." Then they leave as abruptly as they arrived.
After the door shuts behind them I spit out the pill Promises gave me. This is my second day in here this time. Usually after I go back on my medication I'm out in three days. This time I'm going to fool them 'cause I know they control me through the medication and I'm not takin' it anymore. If they'd just let me smoke some pot to relax like I did when I was growing up I know I'd be fine. Lies says I'll have a visitor? I never have a visitor here. He always lies! I know him, he's playing with my mind!
Waiting for the Doctor is hell without my medication. Sometimes he comes in an hour, other times he waits 'til the end of the day. There is nothing I can do except make them believe that I believe they know what is best for me and as long as I do what they say they'll be happy. My happiness? They don't care, my happiness is nowhere. The medication makes nowhere easy, makes it easy for me to submit and for them to control me. With it, I'm nowhere, but when I'm off it I'm in hell, but I now realize I'd rather live in hell and be in control of myself than under their control and nowhere.
I feel like I'm just an actor in a movie. A nowhere man in a nowhere land, portraying my part in a script that has been written for make believe but the real me, as long as I'm playing my part in a nowhere movie, he doesn't exist. I just want to be me, I can't stand living in nowhere land anymore! I'm going nowhere! Nowhere! Nowhere, I tell you no o o whe e e re! I weep.
A knock comes on the door....
My skin is crawling...who is that? The doctor never knocks....
I can't stand this anymore! I scream sighingly,
"Go away, leave me alone! Why do you knock on "the door to no o o wher r re?"
Then, from the other side of the door, I hear a familiar voice say.
"Luke, Luke, I am your father..."
More Chapters in The Door to Nowhere: My Story
- The Door to Nowhere: My Story (Part 2)
Recap: A knock comes on the door....I can't stand this anymore! I scream sighingly, "Go away, leave me alone! Why do you knock on "the door to no o o where r re?" "Luke, Luke, I am your father..."
- The Door to Nowhere: My Story (Part 3)
Rage is boiling deep within, an internal gas pressure forcing the magma of my discontent to the surface of my psyche looking to erupt through any weakness. My psyche? it is nothing if it isn't weak.
- The Door to Nowhere: My Story (Part 4)
His hands were all over his body. His hands were thrashing through his hair. Their lips were locked like...
- The Door to Nowhere: My Story (Part 5)
Dr. Malefic's office is locked, one orderly lies traumatized in the hall outside the door, his lover lies on the other side of the office door, just another door in a hall of doors, doors to nowhere.