Showing posts with the label Prologue

What Happens When the Fat Lady Sings: Prologue--"My Other" (Chapter 2)

My Other The acceptance letter and the invitation to the family reunion arrive on the same day, an unseasonably hot day in late April. My past and my proposed future stuffed into the mailbox, a tiny dark space, pulling me in different directions. I’ve been dreading this invitation, knowing it would be arriving soon. Now that the card, a sentimental thing with a collage of mothers, fathers, and children, is in my hand, I’m almost relieved that the waiting is over, and, yet, those echoes draw me in... WHO: The Mallorys, Bacons, O’Flahertys, etc. WHO: Danny O’Flaherty! WHAT: Family Reunion. WHAT: Command performance. Be there. WHEN: June 20, 1990, from 10:30 a.m. to ???? WHEN: From the beginning of your existence to ???? WHERE: The Lake. WHERE: Wherever you go, wherever you live. COST: A favorite dish, plus $25.00 per couple, $7.50 per child, to help defray the cost of renting The Northwest Quadrant of the Winnehaha Pavilion. COST: More than you’ll EVER be able to afford. RSVP: Sally Mill

What Happens When the Fat Lady Sings: Prologue--"My Other" (Chapter 1)

My Other I first became aware of my fat when I was two. Yes, I think that awareness came first, that moment when a blob of fat jiggled into memory, unblocking Jungian canals of prehistory. It was only after fat-consciousness that I became aware of me as an entity in and of itself. In an instant, I went from nothingness to a wiggling amoeba to a suddenly complete human being sitting on a horse on a merry-go-round. My breath caught me by surprise, almost as if someone had jumped from behind and frightened me into existence. Now, what? Colors, sounds, smells, touch, and taste flooding my body. Feelings– wild and random and terrifying, like a sea of voices screaming in tongues, pushing me under. I can’t breathe! Then, something–someone?–moving through the canals of my brain– organizing, filing, and deleting. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.....AIR! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh...! I wasn’t feeling dizzy as the merry-go-round spun around and my horse pumped up and down, like a wave ebbing and flowing and ebbing and f

Memoir Madness: Driven to Involuntary Commitment