Thinking back , I cant believe, pray, comprehend my parents Frankensteinial plans for me....
As I lay, withered, battered, exhausted surpine on on the self massaging , electrical hospital bed which showed more signs of life than my lanky, frail boney form could emulate; after my 7 th tussel with the curtains of life and death
After 10 years of bulemic hell punctuated by lightening bolts of eerie grand mal seizures, panicky storms of polemic anxiety , thunderous barrages of PTSD and torrential bouts of of disassociative disorder I was stunned to find myself, by the grace of God , once again to have survived...
For this time I had had a cerebral swelling, and encephilitic brain syndrome which resulted in a stroke that left me paralysed and cognitively impaired at the tender age of 27 . Trapped in a static biological husk : the kernal of my mind stared out through foggy eyes as my parents stood above me in a torrent of emotional tides ; rising and falling with dispair and self loathing, swirling and foaming with dismay and accusations and then, finally subsiding into pooled calculations on how to best forrd the flooded problem of the turgid reality that is their daughter ; how to drink profitably from the tragic resource of misfortune my stubborn existance represented.......
To be continued......(page 1 of my unfinished novel)....
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