My Life is Art, My Art is Life
“In India when we meet and part we Often say, ‘Namaste’, which means: I honor the place in you where the entire universe resides; I honor the place in you of love, of light, of truth, of peace. I honor the place within you where if you are in that place in you and I am in that place in me, there is only one of us." ~~Ram Dass~~
My adventures in self-publishing and other gibberish
11 thoughts on “Woman, thrown into seclusion and abandoned – New Trading Card”
Form 22, well, be my guest! Ha ha ha… I only wish my “loved ones ” felt this way… Thank you. I feel your support just thru your choice of words!
Wow! Riveting! I think I might break the doctor’s legs if they did that to a loved one of mine.
Thank you so much Mary, too, for your Google + of this! I don’t know how i found out about it as so much goes into my spam queue but I did and I am so pleased!
THanks AMER INJUST. You are amazing!
Reblogged this on Americana Injustica and commented:
Just wanted to share a very diverse and HUMAN artist/poet that I admire deeply – go check out her amazing and colorful stuff!
And I will repeat that Michael E Balkunas MD, the psychiatrist/ director of W-1 the general psychiatry unit at New Britain General Hospital, otherwise known as The Hospital of Central Connecticut in New Britain, KNEW what he was doing and understood what he was ordering. He was a sadist of the first order, who cloaked himself in the white coat of — FUCK him, he was never benevolent, never kind, never anything but a narcissistic bastard who liked power trips and hurting people. FUCK HIM!
F UCK Michael E Balkunas, MD. FUCK HIM UP THE ASS! And I hope being fucked INVOLUNTARILY, just as he fucked me, rips his rectum wide open and that he gets MRSA and dies. But I hope a bloody rectal pus-filled infection fills his throat and strangulates him before he has the pleasure of escape into death, because L ord knows I did not!
There. Who said words weren’t worth a thousand pictures?
FUCK Michael E Balkunas’s bloody asshole!!
Dear Marie, It hurts to draw these drawings but I can only hope that the hurt is worth it in the end, because otherwise I am only picking at a scab that won’t ever heal…Nevertheless, I cannot seem to stay away from the subject, nor that extremely traumatizing hospital stay in New Britain where things seemed so much worse because none of the staff ever thought that they were doing anything wrong. Not even, said one, when she thought of quitting. That was not on my behalf but because she felt it was to much herself to deal with such a “challenging patient” i.e me, But she never once considered that she was torturing me, or that she had taken out her feelings of inadequacy and needing revenge by punishing me… and even the other patients who had to witness what they did to me, completely unnecessarily, and endure my heartrending screams…
These screams, by the way, the staff could just “turn off ” by locking the two doors and hiding out in the nurses station which they did all the time, but I HOPE that any patient who came near the doors did hear me screaming my heart out, because…Because…Because NO ONE SHOULD BE TREATED LIKE THAT…
What bothers me still is that the nurses weren’t in the least ashamed of it, or sorry for what they did. No they were mad at ME for reacting by screaming…I dare say.
F—- them up the ass and out the other side! I will NEVER forgive them their brutal behavior or the fact that they continued to justify it as good and necessary, Since when is cruelty and torture of another human being anything but cruelty and torture?????
As much as it hurts to remember the pain, shame and extreme humiliation you must have gone through in a seclusion cell, I am also glad that you keep expressing your feelings through art especially now! Loads of love, another Mary 🙂
Mary, if i were able to use my voice and speak, i would call you…but all i can do is write snd say, from wherever deep in my heart this feeling comes, and the tears, Thank you. Thank you.
Beautiful art and poetry can sometimes come from pain. Feeling alone hurts. Feeling abandoned hurts worse of all.