Mad Like Me

Affinity – from the Latin affinis, meaning adjacent

Woo. Rough night. Amazingly enough, I wasn’t murdered in my sleep, which would’ve been hard for the murderer, seeing as I didn’t sleep much. It always happened this way. Whenever I was totally sure of my demise, nothing happened. I tell you, it’s tiring being a psycho.

Day was much better, though. We shared in Group, which was interesting. I learned that this nuthouse was full of bipolars, OCDs, schizophrenics, psychotics, druggies, and even a devil worshipper. The last one creeped me out. Some guy named Rick with long blond hair and black, black eyes. When it was his turn to share he simply said that it is not in Satan’s will to share. The doctor heading the group – who told me to call her Mina – just nodded her head and moved on to the next person. For all her tough talk, she seems more afraid than I am of her. But then, so are cobras. I’m not trusting her.

BUT ANYWAY that is not the highlight of my day. The highlight of my day was lunch. Yesterday I just sat with Luna and Willow, who shared too much and nothing, respectively. But today…

I picked at the buttered roll on my tray. Even though I was starving, I still wasn’t going to eat the meat given to us, which left me with a dry piece of bread. I nearly hit the ceiling when I felt someone tap on my shoulder. I whirled around, growling.

“Mind if I join you?”

My mouth dropped open. Jay was standing behind me, holding a tray of food. I scooted over, giving him a spot on the bench. Speechless. Of course.

“So what brings you over here?” I asked, flustered. I noticed that he didn’t have much at all on his tray. He ate like a bird, and it showed in his lean figure. Suddenly I felt very fat.

“Ah, stupid guys over at my table. They seemed pretty nice at first, but now they’re acting like typical guys. Girls, cars, all that jazz. And I saw that you looked pretty lonely, too. Birds of a feather…”

“Yeah. Pretty lonely. Not exactly good conversation if you know what I mean.” I flicked a glance over at glowering Willow and Luna, who was in a daze. Jay gave me a sympathetic look. “So… what’s up?”

“Well, for starters, I’m stuck in a mental institution with a bunch of people even loonier than I am. My parents seem to hate me. And my older sister found out last week that she was pregnant and doesn’t know who the father is.” He smiled big. “You know. The usual stuff.”

I laughed a little too loudly, shown by Luna snapping out of her daydreaming and leaning around me to get a look at Jay.

“Hey, how’s it going, Jaybird?” she called, even though they were maybe three feet away.

“Pretty good. How about you, Lunatic?”
“Nice.”

“You’ve been here a week and you’ve already given each other nicknames?” I asked. “I feel left out. I wish I had a cool nickname. Something other than boring old ‘Cat’.”

“Lunatic’s a nickname,” Jay informed me. “Jaybird isn’t. It’s my real, actual name. Which brings to mind the question, ‘What kind of parent would name their kid Jaybird?’”

“The hippie kind?” I suggested.
“Yes! Correct! My mum was a bona fide hippie. Unfortunately, she died when I was two. And now I’m left with Daddy Damnedest and The Stepmurderer. Joy to the world.”

And he said it with a smile.

I tried to smile back but it was lost in the mixed messages he was giving about his opinion on the subject.

“Yeah… joy,” was all I could come up with.

Jay returned to eating, looking satisfied with the fact that he’d left me at a loss for words. He took little bites of the mystery meat on his tray, looking down at each piece of food on his fork as if to make sure that it wasn’t going to come alive and eat him instead. He glanced up with those bright green eyes and raised an eyebrow.

“Cat? What is it?”

I realized I’d been staring. Flustered, I turned back to my own tray and blinked a few times.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. Just spaced out for a few moments. Yep. Nothing.”
He tipped his head to the side, looking at me.
“Are you okay? You’re sweating… and your face is red…”
“Yeah. Happens all the time.” Not. “You’ll get used to it if you spend enough time around me.” Not. “No need to worry. I’m totally fine.” So many lies! What do I talk about?

“So,” I said. “What type of music do you like?” Oh God, I sound stupid.

Jay blinked at me, shocked by the abruptness of my question. He’d finished the mystery meat and moved on to the roll at this point. He swallowed and pursed his lips.

“Well, I like a lot of pop. But sometimes classical is good, too. Sometimes I wish I could play an instrument, like the violin, maybe. Or the piano. Something that sounds pretty.”

I giggled uneasily. Now what? He already knew my bipolar taste in music.

“I like the piano. It’s very…” I tried to search for the word. “Versatile. Like, it can either be soft and delicate, or dark and ominous, or bouncy.”

Jay laughed.
“Bouncy?”
“Yeah. Bouncy. You know.” I imitated the sound I was thinking of, which really can’t be put into words, but you get the picture. I was interrupted by the sound of my stomach growling. Jay smiled.

“Eat,” he said. “They may give us crap, but you can’t starve yourself. You’ve only eaten your roll.”

“Oh, no,” I said. “I’m a vegetarian. I like animals. Plus meat just grosses me out.” I shivered a little. “I just don’t like touching meat. It’s just… no.”

Jay just looked at me.

“Sorry. I’m being weird, aren’t I? Don’t mind me. I’m insane. And now I’m rambling.” I returned to picking at my food.

“We’re all weird here,” he said simply. “Get used to it.”

And then it was time to leave. But I actually had a decent conversation with a cute boy! Aren’t you proud of me, journal?

No therapy today. Dr. Gonzalez was out sick, and they apparently didn’t have a replacement. So I was stuck in the room with Luna. I suppose I could have gone somewhere else, but I was too busy turning the recent Jay encounter over in my mind. And I reached into my bag for my purple iPod with the skull stickers on it to find nothing. The bastards must have taken it out. Hang on, I’m gonna go ask a doctor about it…

FFS, I hate this place! Dr. Falcon told me in this snotty way that iPods were a privilege that I would earn when I started to get better behaved and, you know, not insane. Which is totally bogus, seeing as I can’t help whether I get better or not. If I could, I wouldn’t be here!

I’m not sure I can live without my iPod. I am a singer, goddamnit! I need music! I’m starting to see why Luna sings without music. Because she can’t have it. This place is probably going to make me even more insane.