Mad Like Me

Not much more fun since the last entry. Dr. Gonzalez asked me to elaborate on what happened in Group, but I refused. Why should she know? Why should any of them know?

I skipped Group today. I figured that they wouldn’t particularly want me, anyway, and I sure didn’t want them, so what would be the point in going? It’s time for lunch now, so I gotta go. Even in my funk, I can never miss a meal.

So lunch was okay. People sat closer to me today. Luna tried to engage in conversation, but seeing as we’re both socially inept, it didn’t work well.

“You any better?” asked Jay, plopping down next to me.
“Yeah. Kinda. It was just…bad memories.” I felt myself tense up and shook my head. “No. Not thinking about it. So I freaked everyone out pretty bad, huh?”

“Not really. As far as I can tell, that was fairly normal. The first day I was here, Satan’s Minion tried to rip Dr. Mina’s head off.”

“Just who I want to be compared to.”
“That’s beside the point,” he said, waving off my complaint. “What I’m saying is that there’s no reason to be self-conscious. At least, not because of that. We’re all like that here.”

I was reminded of a line from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Did I mention that I love Alice in Wonderland? No? Now I have.

“But I don’t want to go among mad people!” Alice cried.
“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat. “I’m mad, you’re mad, we’re all mad here.”

Somehow that seemed an apt description of life here at Rosewood Psychiatric. But this Wonderland was not the magical place of yore. No, this place was more like the creepy Tim Burton remake.

“Whatevs. I’m over it now.” Kinda. “It won’t happen again.” I think. “So what did I miss in yesterday’s catatonic meltdown?”

“Well, for starters, Raquel spit in my food, and they refused to give me more, so I couldn’t eat. Then when I talked back to her she tried to beat me up.”

“Did she win?”
“No. I beat her with my mad ninja skills.”

I assumed a skeptical expression.

“Ok, it was more like the doctors pulled her off of me. So much hate for such a small girl.”

“Hey,” I said with a crooked smile, “I have the title of small girl around here.”
“What’s my title?” Jay asked.
“Hmm. Let me think.” I turned it over in my mind. “You are… sarcastic emo kid.”
“That fits.”

Then we went back to his room, just to hang out. I started giving him singing lessons.

“Alright,” I said. “Now sing. Remember to apply the breathing technique. Breathe with your diaphragm, not your chest.”

“But what do I sing?”
“Do you think I care? Just go through your iPod and pick something already.”

A look of intense concentration passed over his face as he scrolled through the songs.

“How about ‘If We Ever Meet Again?”
“No.”
“But it’s a good song!”

“In all honesty, Jay, I don’t think that’s in your range.”

Jay pursed his lips.
“What’s a range?” he asked.
“It’s all the notes you can hit, from the highest to the lowest. I think that may be too low for you.”
“Is it too low for you?”
“No, but-“
“Good. Then it’s fine.”

Jay took a deep breath and started singing in what he probably considered to be a good imitation of Timbaland but sounded more like a drunken Katy Perry. I put my hands over my ears and shook my head. The sound stopped and Jay glared at me.

“Jesus, boy!” I cried. “What the hell was that?”
“What? I thought it sounded good.”
“That sound can only be described as the lovechild of a garbage truck and a yowling cat. I warned you.”

“If a girl can sing it, so can I.”
“Shut up. You have a higher voice than me and you know it, so just accept the fact that you sound like a girl. Be happy that you sound like a girl with a pretty voice.”

“FYI, telling me that I sound like a girl isn’t going help matters. You’re just jealous of my lovely voice.” But he was grinning, so I knew he was joking.

“Me? Jealous? No, I’m not really the jealous type. But I do pick songs that match my voice type. I’m definitely a low alto. You’re a mid-to-high alto. Or a low soprano.”

“Is that good?” he asked, biting his lip.

“Well, alto’s the highest vocal range for dudes, so you can either accept that or go into denial and insist that you don’t sound like a howling dog when you try to sing lower.”

“Accepting it is.”

Don’t get me wrong, I like his voice. When he sings high. It was actually a little painful to hear him trying to sing low. I didn’t mean to be a know-it-all, but that’s kind of hard when you do, in fact, know it all. At least on the subject in question.

Just thought of something. If you like a guy, but he’s more of a girl than a guy, are you a lesbian? Ah, such deep thoughts we share, Journal.

Meanwhile I’m still trying to get to sleep at night. It ain’t working. I try playing calming music in my head, but that doesn’t really help. You know what would help? Having an iPod. I’m going to ask Dr. Gonzalez if I could have it back, on the grounds that I could play calming music. I mean, I just can’t sleep with silence. That’s what the air purifier in my room was for. But seeing as that wouldn’t fit in the suitcase, I have to do without.

If Jay can lie his way into getting his music back, then I can definitely truth my way into doing the same thing.