Title

Thank You for Calling

Graduation Year

2014

Comments

At the request of the author, this essay is not available for download. Bona fide researchers may consult it by visiting the University Archives in Tate Archives & Special Collections; contact archives@iwu.edu for details.

Abstract

It seems absurd, sometimes, that I answer a suicide hotline when I still struggle to manage my own recurrent mental illness. Many mornings, I wake up with depression curled on my chest like my fat cat, and confuse the crushing weight for a collapsed lung. I am not always sure how much longer I will be able to keep rising before my body gives up on breath. I make lists of reasons why I should stay alive, go to work, and read them aloud to strangers in my most supportive voice. I dream about faceless children loading guns underwater and imagine the first time a caller kills herself while on the phone with me. I worry about whether I will be able to get a job, pay the rent, afford my prescriptions. I buy dry shampoo, too tired to wash my hair. After hours in the trenches of writing, I sometimes look at my lover and startle, as if just realizing that he has been here all along, as if I had been watching a stranger wash the dishes and make me breakfast. I take my medicine. I make the bed. I write these poems.

Disciplines

English Language and Literature

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