|Influences||Australian Mental Health System|
|Bio||A traveller. An Intellectual. Not a fence sitter.|
A man in white leads me into a room of white. In the centre is a desk from IKEA. McDonalds and it’s provocative red and yellow is my neighbour. There is one glass window, it looks out to the cars passing on a highway.
The room is an in-vitro simulation to analyse my mind; clinical, analytical, a residence for the author of prescription pills who works on lab rats.
The Psychiatrist, a tall man from Iran named Mojtaba. I trust this man because I have a Persian Identity. I’m vulnerable and need someone to trust.
Dr.Mojtaba has a reputation from arriving late. It makes the patients, anxious.
“Take a Seat”
My father is the anxious patient. I’m accompanying him.
Dr.Mojtaba sits behind his desk and stretches himself up confidently when he sees me. He’s the boss here, the owner of the entire medical centre. Everything.
He speaks to me.
“So, I’ve spoken to you sister”
I’ve been travelling for four years. I’m unaware of my sister. I’m just being born back into the western world again. My identity in this social framework doesn’t exists, only as a memory which I can’t remember at this point.
“She said that you’ve had quite a difficult past few months”
The way he said that last sentence it’s cold. Maybe he just wants the money. His ethics corrupted.
“Do you know why your sitting here?”
What a strange question. Because I was abused and my family are looking at me as a mental health scapegoat for their own painful histories. Because it’s easier to blame another then reconcile with yourself.
The cars of the highway outside, they’re of different colours. I’ll sit in silence for a bit there’s nothing much you can say if your misdiagnosed. Just sit there and accept.
Dr.Mojtaba looks down at his notes, then raises his eyes to give the room an atmosphere of suspicion. I’ve seen this before, the police do it when they want everyone on their side to fuck over an innocent man. He pushes himself away from the desk. Looks out the window, staring at cars passing by on a highway.
“I’ve seen cases like yours before. How long have you been having psychotic episodes”
If the McDonalds next door is real, then for a long-time.
“You told me that you travelled for four years without any money”
Three languages learnt, 4 years, 13 countries and less than $10,000.
“Have you every thought why you travelled like this.”
I was 19, had less than $20,000 in the bank and wanted to make it last.
“I think that you’ve been having psychotic episodes for quite some time”
Agree to Disagree. How to I get up and leave from this place.
“I’m a fair man, I always give my patients choices. You will be give three.”
“What are they?”
“The emergency’s hospital psychiatric ward, a pill that will make you fat, or a pill that won’t make you fat”
I want to leave. It’s the only way.
“Your suggestion of the pill that won’t make me fat, I’ll make that decision”
I remember the mountain of Georgia. People built churches on rock faces. At night in the forest I watch the fire, it feels safe among the shadows of the trees. Here life is real. The water is sweet to taste from the melted snow of a place in which I want to die. Surrounded in white.