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The Room (revised)

 

 

 

The Room

 

In the waiting area, after Hello, silence;

we are tongue tied by the house rule

never to trespass on the personal,  outside.

At 11,  the psychotherapist shuts the door on:

cheery smiles donned with coats

for the chatty cashier at the co-op,

an animated I’m fine to family and friends

who roll their eyes at depression’s monotone .

 

 ‘’ How is everyone this week?’’

We stare at the carpet, examine our nails….

reluctant to appear too greedy;

until Amy’s eyes begin to drip tears -

after years of schizophrenic husband attaching

himself to her like a tag as she cleans , shops, pees…

vomiting has become  her guilty pleasure.

 

Liz, relives tending daughter’s bruises,

her ‘Leave him’ parried with ‘Don’t start mum’;

striking the woman with the same paraplegic helplessness

as her six year old self 

unable to get ‘father to stop.’

 

‘Room’ etiquette means we listen in trappist silence

to each other’s Alan Bennett monologues,

then offer only palliative words ,

understanding that some lives are incurable.

 

12.30 the psychotherapist’s eyes flick to the wall clock.

We scatter with cheerful ‘Goodbyes’ and ‘See you next week’

like casual acquaintance from a Pilates class.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

◄ ladies who lunch

Acid Attack ►

Comments

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fiona sinclair

Tue 27th Mar 2012 20:46

Thank you, really constructive remarks .

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Martin Peacock

Tue 27th Mar 2012 15:04

This reply echoes up from the bottom of my own personal well of darkness encroaching: I like both of the comments offered so far and think that a] you have created something touching and poetic, and b] raw truth isn't so easily expressed in polished words or phrases.

Re: Ray's question; I don't think you need that 'outside' in there either - it can be taken for granted that inside it's all about the personal, and therefore the opposite applies beyong the group's confines.

[It also reminds me of my time in group psychotherapy, spoilt by a therapist who tended to regard us somewhat patronisingly. She insisted we consider it a 'stranger' group i.e. we were supposed always to see each other as strangers, even to the extent of not speaking to each other if we ever met beyond the confines of the hospital, and would dress us down if we ever let slip that we'd so much as said, 'hello' to one another.]

<Deleted User> (10123)

Tue 27th Mar 2012 13:06

Just read Ray's comment. There might be a case for raw truth to be flashed, where a more poetic approach would dampen or soften that section too much. I liked the overall effect. Ta muchly, Nick.

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Ray Miller

Tue 27th Mar 2012 12:51

Good this. Manages to convey very well that sense of life as a machine which carries on doing the same old things to the same old people.
Do you need "outside" after personal? It's kind of left hanging there.

Thought this bit could have been more poetic.

after years of schizophrenic husband attaching

himself to her like a tag as she cleans , shops, pees…


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