This morning’s funeral was easier than I had anticipated. Catholic funerals to me are very formal affairs with people being told when to stand and what to say. Aside from mention of the persons name, it was impersonal. Not much of a life celebration in my opinion but maybe the impersonal part is what brings makes feel like they can make it through that process.
This afternoon I went back to the psychiatric hospital to visit a client. Beforehand I wondered if it would be hard for me to be back there again but I decided that that time in my life was not really me. It was a fucked up psychotic version of me. It wasn’t hard to be there at all. I passed one of my nurses in the hall and I wondered if she recognized me. I don’t think she did. My time there is instilled in my memory forever but my time there to her was probably just a blip. I visited with my client for about an hour before being invited to an AA meeting. I’ve been to an NA meeting years ago but never AA. During the brief meeting one person left and another broke down crying. I had to keep biting my tongue remembering that I was there to participate, not to be the facilitator as is my usual group role. We read passages and discussed what they meant to us with regards to our day. It was short and pleasant enough.
On my way out, I passed the ward I had stayed in. Outside the ward was my tile that I had made many months ago on a your when the hospital first opened. The universe keeps connecting me to that place again and again.