The Next Time I Go Crazy by John Patrick Robbins

 

I sat there speechless words are wasted on those already convinced you’re insane .

I had suffered a mental breakdown before but it was hidden from most due to the fact my girlfriend at the time looked after me .

This time it was in full view of everyone .

The doctor looked at me as I assume I was just one of many freaks he saw in a day.

You ever want to know what it is to be powerless .
Be locked in a mental ward .

I tried to commit suicide but being you’re reading this as you can tell I failed .

“So Mr Robbins how are you feeling today?”

“Well besides the fact you have me on enough meds to keep most numb to the world , Honestly I feel like shit,  how bout you doc”?

The doctor didn’t reply .

He simply looked at me.
I was a waste of air to him we were all cattle and he after dealing with people’s bullshit far to long had long since lost all sympathy.

“So why did you try to hurt yourself “?

“Well there really wasn’t anything on TV and I figured I would mix things up by opening up my wrists”.

“You know Mr Robbins you have serious issues and your substance abuse is not helping your depression “.

“Your right doc I mean whoever would imagine drinking till you blackout would be unhealthy for you “.

The doctor was not amused by my humor .

“This really isn’t a laughing matter, what if you had died “?

“Then this conversation would be kind of awkward wouldn’t it? ,
I mean don’t you treat people for talking to invisible people in here”?

“Mr Robbins is this a game to you”?

“If it were I certainly would be losing doc “.

I replied .
It went on like that for awhile they asked the questions till they got the answers they wanted to hear .

Then turned you lose gave you some scripts for shit that had worse side effects then the crap the were treating you for.

You had to be controlled before they turned you loose and I was smart enough to understand the game for what it was .

On the day I was released the same Doc came and spoke to me .

“Mr Robbins I do wish you luck and hope to never see you here again”.

“Thanks “.

Was all I said .

“So what’s your plans “?

“Well doc honestly to get drunk and get as far away from here as possible “.

“You do realize the booze doesn’t help your depression”?

“Neither does the shit that makes me feel nothing at all”.

“But the medication serves a purpose “.

“So does the booze “.

“You know if you continue down this road nothing good will come from this”.

“Well honestly doc if I walk around a overmedicated zombie I can’t see how that’s any better “.

“Least you will be alive “.

“Breathing only means your continued existence I have no desire to simply exist cause I can”.

I was annoyed ready to leave and far more ready to drink .

I was out the door I didn’t say goodbye for I knew this wasn’t my last visit .

“Be well the doc said as I was leaving “.

I stopped looking back with a smile upon my face .

“Doc when I’m not trust me you will be the first to know “.

Unfortunately are paths would cross again .

 

©2018 John Patrick Robbins

 

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John Patrick Robbins is often referred to as an outlaw poet, whose work is a glimpse into life’s darker side and often barroom based. His work has been published with Inbetween Hangover, The Red Fez, Spill The Words, Ramingos Porch, Your One Phone Call, The Outlaw Poetry Network, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Poets Community, And also read online at hello poetry. His work is always a hundred percent unfiltered.

 

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