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    From One Encounter to the Next: A Collection of Prose and Poetry
    From One Encounter to the Next: A Collection of Prose and Poetry
    From One Encounter to the Next: A Collection of Prose and Poetry
    Ebook127 pages1 hour

    From One Encounter to the Next: A Collection of Prose and Poetry

    By Susan M. Cane

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    About this ebook

    Despite scientific studies and years of research, mental illness still carries a heavy stigma. People dont like to talk about it or acknowledge mental illness as a real disease that requires treatment. Author Susan Cane has suffered from mental illness most of her life. She is no stranger to the judgments of others, but she believes it is time for things to change.

    In From One Encounter to the Next, she presents a collection of poetry and short stories exploring the day-to-day struggles of a person suffering from mental illness. Many of Canes pieces were written in the midst of her battle, while others were written in hindsight. Each piece strives to honestly communicate Canes road to recovery.

    Some of her words are sad and wrought with difficulty, while others strive for comic relief and inspiration. Mental illness is a constant state of hills and valleys; Cane can attest to that from personal experience. Mental illness is also an epidemic that needs to be confrontedwithout judgment, without stigma, and with patience, love, and hope.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAbbott Press
    Release dateMar 31, 2014
    ISBN9781458214683
    From One Encounter to the Next: A Collection of Prose and Poetry
    Author

    Susan M. Cane

    Susan M. Cane has lived in Pennsylvania her whole life. She holds a bachelor’s degree in psychology. Once a hospital volunteer, she currently works in the field of financial advising.

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      Book preview

      From One Encounter to the Next - Susan M. Cane

      Copyright © 2014 Susan M. Cane.

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      Abbott Press books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

      Abbott Press

      1663 Liberty Drive

      Bloomington, IN 47403

      www.abbottpress.com

      Phone: 1-866-697-5310

      Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

      Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

      and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

      Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

      ISBN: 978-1-4582-1467-6 (sc)

      ISBN: 978-1-4582-1468-3 (e)

      Library of Congress Control Number: 2014903743

      Abbott Press rev. date: 3/31/2014

      Contents

      Biography

      Dedication

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Biography

      I am proud to be publishing One Encounter To the Next? I have worked on it over the years, and I believe that now is the time to open it up to readers. I live in the beautiful state of Pennsylvania. I enjoy the old houses, the culture and the city of Philadelphia. I also study for a Master’s In Business, and I have a Bachelor Degree in Psychology.

      I like to spend my time pursuing artistic hobbies like oil painting, sketching, sculpting, and of course, writing.

      The book was written for those who have suffered Mental Illness, but I also want to touch the soul of anyone else. Mental Health is a devastating experience, as my book will show you through fiction and poetry.

      It contains stories of people with mental illness, and the experiences they go through. The poetry relates to my own experiences, and the insights I received through those experiences

      Dedication

      The book is a dedication to all that suffer from mental illness, and to all who want to learn.

      SIGMUNDSDIARY0005.jpg

      Chapter One

      I have Potential

      Excerpt From Sigmund’s Diary

      June 30th, 1751

      Today I was freed from isolation for only a few hours. I sat and watched the birds, and as I observed they seemed to be guiding my thoughts. The sun was out and this felt very happy, as I always feel melancholy and damned when it rains. But still I have learned nothing. My jacket feels like it is fitting well this morning, but right now I feel not well. Today my shoes feel smaller. But I am no lesser a man! The Doctor damned to me again, saying with a smile that he had made his decision. And the other patients, tired and frightened, watched as I left the building and went outside. To think, that I would find fault in my own decisions! What decisions has he that I should morn? But still I watch the birds and know nothing. And still, at he present, I am no lesser a man.

      July 9th, 1751

      Today I was taught to dress myself and take care of my personal habits. As I stood naked I could feel the eyes of the male nurses staring at my genitals. Next, while clothed only with a small covering, I could feel the humiliation. But still I could stand with a sense of dignity. One I know all to well, but could never come to realize what it was or where it came from. In uniform, I could still see the eyes glaring at me with a sense of stigma. Then I felt crazy. I felt we were all crazy. Just standing here to be crazy as they watched and proclaimed our being. My genitals were hardening as I have never felt much more than this. Then the feeling of tiny birds flashed in my eyes as I came to a happier nature. Then, at closure, I left the room to reassure and compose myself. Theirs has a dirty meaning that I must contend with everyday. This I have learned to do very well, with everyday of my life.

      July 13th, 1751

      Today I watched a mental embalming. The man had a jaw that was corrected to the left. I wait in a chair near the operating table, as if I were to make my own decisions. There was cutting and much blood, which squirted from the man’s head. I felt to vomit, but I could only watch. The surgeon’s hands would not shake a bit as I watched in comfort. My gown was fresh and new, and I waited and watched his posture very closely. But still, I knew nothing, even though there was this interest. As the surgeon was finished, the man’s jaw was corrected to the right and his eyes were bulging. But he was only dismissed as the surgeon did his own writings. I was to be next, and the fear was exhilarating for it was my first. My neck tightened as I panicked and was slowly guided to the table that appeared to be a God. Everything was silent, my mind, my brain, my arms and my whole body. It was a feeling of ecstasy that I had never felt in my entire life. I only prayed that my face would not look obscure when it was over.

      July 17th, 1751

      Today I used my teachings of how to keep myself. The room I bathed in was extremely dirty, and I thought to myself of how I could become clean. But still I used the soap at approximately the same measurements as I was told. And though I used this much, I found the sink to be to dirty, and so was my body. My hair has no unique way, but at least it used some soap. I thought that I should hurry, for there was a long line of others waiting to use the room. So, as I left the room, I watched the faces as they saw me in complete wonder. But they did not wonder of themselves, but of my cleanliness. I smiled and nodded to show them my contentedness. I was to continue my day as usual, hoping not to be treated. To us all, treatments were a horror. But somehow, still, I had my own decisions. My God, their eyes look so tormented! They looked Hebrews waiting to be saved. Their eyes looked like that of a ghost.

      July 25th, 1751

      I was taken immediately this morning to see the Physist. I had only finished my

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