One memory, quite obstinate;
Tossed to a curvy bed
And-yes, she insisted we
saying, “You’re a “tough little girl,
<c> Robert Goldstein 5/5/93-6/22/2018
Bobby carries a unique sense of self that functions independently of the rest of me.
His job was to figure out how to survive into adulthood.
To survive, Bobby had to hide his intellect.
He adopted a thick geechie accent.
He was tough and not afraid of his Mother.
His goal was to get away from her and his first strategy was to force a psychiatrist to commit him.
“One day I found a book called, “By Reason of Insanity.
It was all about this guy who goes crazy and stabs his wife 47 times with
a butcher knife..
He gets sent to the loony bin.
Most of the book was about the people he meets in the hospital.
Some of the people scream and see things that ain’t there.
But the hospital also had food and a school.
I thought hell, check it out!
I got Momma to take me to see a shrink.
The psychiatrist Momma took looked like Mr. Spock from “Star Trek”:
“Is there anything you’d like to tell me about yourself, bobby.”
“Yeh–I think I’m queer.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Well–” I looked up at him and said, “I think about boys when I-you know.”
That got me sent up.
The shrink told Momma that I needed to go to the state hospital for “observation.”
I got all excited since that seemed almost as good as going to New York.
The hospital had a place for kids.
It was a tall red brick building with locks on every door.
When Momma an’ me got there, Momma suddenly got very polite, and she gave me permission to smoke.
When the doctor came to meet us, she acted all scared, like she was talking to Grandma.
“Ya’all treat my baby good!” she cried.
Then she called me darling, and left.
This hospital was nothing like the one in my book.
It was all shiny inside and Muzac played all day long through little loudspeakers in the ceiling.
Everyone looked numb.
I made friends with this other queer who was a year older than me.
He was a rich kid who went on and on about how he hoped the doctors could turn him straight.
Here I was, fifteen and already out.
I thought this kid was crazy and said so!
“Listen!” I said, “That ain’t never gonna happen. So get over it!”
Well he hauled off and slapped me!
Then he got so upset about slapping me he started to cry.
A nurse came over to give him some pills.
She gave me an evil look.
Like I had picked up that boy’s hand and slapped myself!
I thought she’d like me better if she had to give me some pills, so I asked for some.
“Why do you think you need medication, Bobby?”
“I think I’m seein’ people that ain’t really there.”
“Be sure you tell that to your doctor.”
“Tell me a little something about your childhood.” the doctor said.
“Well it ain’t over yet!” I said.
“True enough.” he smiled. “Why do you think you’re here?”
“I guess ’cause I’m queer.” I answered. “Howcum you ain’t got no people screamin’ around here?”
He smiled again. “Do you feel like screaming?”
That shrink really thought I was crazy.
Now I knew I wasn’t, but I reminded myself that for these folks, queer was the same thing.
When Momma came to visit she always put on the good behavior that she wore for Grandma.
I said, “Momma! These people gonna do some kinda shock treatment on me!”
“They’ll do what they can to make you better.” she said. “I hope you’re smokin’ like I said you could.”
I was in deep water for screwing that rich kid.
A month passed.
“Whut if yew had relations with a man an’ caught the clap in yore mouth?” The social worker asked me one day, like I already had it.
“You can get that from eatin’ pussy!” I said, “Why don’t you people calm down an’ let me go home?”
That rich kid told me all about the therapy the doctors was doing on him.
“First, they strap you inna chair with your weenie hanging out. Then they put glue on it and stick wires to it. Then they show you pictures of hot dudes an’ shock the piss outta you if you so much as sigh!”
Now, Momma had to understand how bad that was!
“Lissen up!” I said at her next visit. “These shrinks is gonna “lectrocute me!”
“They say they only use a lil’ “lectricity, darlin’.”
“And how would you like it if every time you sat onna barstool some one zapped you off?”
Momma got that dark look she always got when she wanted to hit me.
“Have a little respect for your Momma!” She said in a tight but polite tone of voice.
“Do you want Bobby to be a hama-sect-ual?” The shrink asked Momma at the treatment meeting.
“He was always a tad girlish, but I have always maintained that it is important for men to be men.
“Let em fry my dick off, ” I said, “see what kind of man I’ll be then!”
“The shrink ignored me.
“I think that Bobby can be cured. These deviant behaviors are not set until adulthood.”
“But I don’t wanna get cured!” I said. “I ain’t got nothin’ to cure!
I glared at Momma.
She sat there like the best little girl in the world.
Then I knew what I had to do.
“Momma! You let this fool shock me an’ I’ll call Grandma and tell her all about you. Every. Thing.”
She looked down and twisted her wedding ring.
Then she looked up at the doctor with such wide, innocent looking brown eyes:
“I do want what’s best for Bobby. But it’s such a big decision! I think I should consult with his Father first.”
(c) Rob Goldstein 1985-2018
Some days it feels as if my crazy ass Mother is in charge of the U.S. government.
I found this old handout from my days as a treatment provider in San
Francisco’s mental health system.
It was written for survivors of domestic violence.
Few situations are more crazy making and chaotic than life with a
psychologically abusive parent or spouse.
Here are 14 points to consider as you work to free your mind from the
narcissistic cycle of Abuse.
There is the difference between humility and
We reject and expose gaslighting.
We call a lie a lie.
Healthy people do not tell other people what they want.
Anger is normal when trust is betrayed.
We have the right to say no.
We have the right to our own opinions.
We have the right to honest relationships.
We let abusive people suffer the consequences of their
actions without guilt.
We expect friends and family members who hurt us
to know how to apologize.
No one will tell us what to think.
We do not take the blame for things we did not do.
When people violate our bodies and minds we hold
Accepting what we cannot change means changing
what we can.
The self-loathing projections of the abuser do not define us.
A friend who can’t feel shame and admit to being wrong is not
Text and header image (c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved