In the Garden of Scheol (A Short Story of a Young Women With Schizophrenia Tendencies)

life in which you were Babenhausen, then Germany, and the bridge of the brewery on a channel, which from one end of town to the other end. You could see the old tower, built around 1714 AD from their 3rd story Apartment window. One way from the center of the city in which they lived, was a park, and the Babenhausen, Courtyard (which is in cafes and art shows, together with small concerts).

It was a city permit, a kind where the people was for the most part back in the early to mid-seventies, was the joint level and the like, a hard working community, together with a hard drinking class, the German camp that the Pensions occupied every night of the week. There were also a few select bars, where young people hung out.

It was a city of people rode their bicycles as much as they drove their cars in the two bridges, the second is in the middle of town, where a creek runs through parallel circuit of the bridge one miles away, near the brewery.

Wild Kids Escaping the grip of her mother's hands, for the period up to the few vender selling bratwurst, with mayonnaise and French fries, with mustard on the side. It was for most parks, Sherwood Sullivan thought.

They drank it as more than set out in the cafes and guest houses in Babenhausen in those days. There were three in particular he prefers.

It was in the early summer of 1974, and everyone in the city was apparently employed. It was a warm and friendly little town, and the young couple liked their furnished apartment, with only three rooms, and a thin corridor.

The apartment she lived in a similar way the rooms rented, Ernest Hemingway lived at the Hotel Ambos Mundos in Havana, Cuba, in the late 1930s, he had many windows and a balcony, and from the balcony, you can see the Old tower there, and the top of many houses.

They were always broke, but they ate well, and he smoked two packs of cigarettes per day, and had his six-pack of beer night, either at home or at the bar, or pension.

He ate breakfast at home, as a rule, the Germans could never fulfill his American taste in this category. He loved two eggs, sunny-side up, toast, bacon, dark and strong coffee, and if time permits potatoes (he was twenty-seven years old, she, twenty, he had her when she was seventeen, and he had only come home from the Vietnam War).

Breakfast seemed to him with his hangover, again faster, especially the dark coffee, he liked it.

They drank it to reduce her headaches, she had them very often, too often for her husband (coffee, cola or chocolate, anything with caffeine in IT).

This morning, he was not in a hurry, how often he was there for a quiet place to do his writings (he is working on a book entitled "A Romance in Augsburg, where he was a year of his life, again in 1970, before in Vietnam, in 1971) he was with his wife Carla, and he in a corner house, which he often visited, along the bay, and bridge, in the courtyard, ordered two hard boiled eggs, they do not know, the way he liked, salted it, ordered some sweetbreads with jam, coffee, and that she ordered a pouched egg, they were all small, he said, but he knew better than to complain, it would not be all good it was, if anything, he is happy to swallow the half and half chewed them, washing them with coffee.

In the middle of the night, they had for love or sex, it was quick and sober, and sparse, since they had sex only once every three to four months.

Both saw the cars and bikes go, it was Butte ring her sweet bread.

"What do you think of?" asked Carla.

"There is not much, why?"

"It must be something you can kind are daydreaming it seems."

"Just feeling alone, that's all."

"How can that be, I'm here right here by your side:"

"Well, you seem happy." Sherwood answered.

"I like feeling happy," she said and added, "is not that normal?"

"... Oh yes, of course, then hesitated, but added:" They are not all happy, that much, "he said almost a whisper.

"Ah," she said, disappointed, in a tone, "I do not know, I'm happy now, and we do not have to worry, or even just slightly above all, do we?"

"not a thing." , He replied.

"What do you want to do today?" She asked frigidly.

"I do not know, tell me."

His mind was drifting, daydreaming, as she had mentioned, and there was a problem he did not order, did not happen after it already, he had to rest, because there are not any good to belabor it: It was about their cutting with scissors, his clothes, except the clothes he had on his back, and he returned to the drycleaners for this event. She was mad with jealousy, painted like a whore, and when he came home, was about dance, to lure him into bed and said, "You like a bitch, here I am!" and when he went to clothes, he noticed all his clothes were torn, that was two weeks ago, and he is waiting for a check to buy more, he would head up to Darmstadt, where he usually bought the most, what, as a shorthand equipment, clothing, shoes, and so on.

"I want to go anywhere, I will remain happy, I promise! Perhaps to Dieburg, I like the small shops, or Darmstadt, no, Munster, we catch the train there and go on to Frankfurt and spend the day. Or do you see that pink camel in Aschaffenburg? "

" We are thinking about after breakfast, when we are in the park, then we can decide what to do, I will not write today. "

"No, I think I will return to the home and a nap!"

"Wow! This is a sudden, new idea," he said,

"You know I order these sudden flashes of depression and agitated behavior, I am no longer satisfied, take me back."

"Ok," he said, know they can be destructive. Indeed, it was only yesterday in a shop in Dieburg, a town a few miles away, she had a manic explosion before the clerk, who asked him to make them out of business quickly, before the police .. .

The shop in Dieburg

(Carla wanted shopping in Dieburg, a gift for her sister in Erie, Pennsylvania, for her new son).

It was the early afternoon, and the two, Sherwood and Carla had a bus from Babenhausen, Dieburg, in order, there were no trains, the black cross of the roads, the dark blue sky, directly over their heads, the tabloid that seemed long and stretched out, the hot sun like a desert on their shoulders and her neck piercing, everything seemed to fall flat on Carla's brain. Sherwood could almost change their mood, their thoughts, through the eyes, he knew by instinct that something was planted. Some cars drove by the young people in them, they are slowly on the beautiful orange car, a BMW,

"There is a nice car," she said to her husband.

"There is the business, and there you go, what can we do for your sister of the child." Sherman said, trying to change the subject before it at the end in the middle of the road to argue why he did not buy a new car, as for them, he knew, and learning more about their terrible behavior, it could destroy the all day, and too often has eroded parts of a good only by a suggestion of some moments incident or an opinion, logical or not. This disease, he had not fully understood, but it was in its biological origin, he shows, because they had no control over them.

on, and in the shop she went, she saw that as normal as everyone wants, and the owner, a middle-aged woman, slender, dark brown hair, maybe five years old or so, asked: "Can I help you "Then, pointing to some wooden figures, saying:" These things are a bit strange men, the child can play it over, "said the dealer.

"I suppose so." Carla said, "but it can also chew on them and at the dead end, lead poisoning or something like that. Yes, yes, yes, yes, it looks good, oh yes it looks like a playful thing, so terribly nice and new, so new and new and beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, nice ... but it will kill, kill, yes, kill the child, but it is a wonderful gift as a wonderful gift, but you should not sell it to a child give him a child, a little child, what is wrong with you ... they say so Sherwood are once on my side, my good friend on my page, they say, they say, their behavior is ill, not helpful ...! Be on my side again. "

" Sir, what is wrong with your wife? Please keep it, or leave, in fact, it would be better if you both have, "said the dealer in a quiet voice, was too timid with Carla's manic behavior.

in the vicinity of her husband, her head on her shoulder, as if her head hurt, then she saw a wooden horse, a rocking horse,

'This is good, "she said," That's what I'm on the lookout for. It is safe, but it is his ... to something that is not sure what, but something that I do not like about it. "

" The $ 80-dollar woman, "said the dealer.

"Woman I am a woman, I'm married, you can see that it is not!" Carla said in a high energy voice.

It was some feeling high, feeling irritable and sad, high energy prices, to "high" with agitation, along with some overly euphoric m ood when she saw the rocker, think about their nephew, but she was like the shifting approximation shaded dark clouds in the sky.

The shop lady was afraid assembly, "If they go back, to make it from here, I can not, I can not rally when it begins again, I will order the police."

"Sure," Sherwood said, and he nudged her slightly, saying: "We have a good time looking at the other stores, and off you go. There are many places to go, we have perhaps a better deal."

"God," she said as loud as her voice would be, "that would be just wonderful, and we see on the other side of the road."

The proprietresses smiled, said: "Then go ...."

"You know, dear, I have not done anything wrong today, I had to let them know, you know, dass"

He did not say another word on this subject (as they went across the street), it belongs to her Babble, then in another shop where they bought Shaggy looking rocking horse, for $ 120th Dollar, which looked like a horse, more so than the previous one. And he destroyed his forehead, knowing he had the day, while she, she was happy again.

"I'm not, maybe you should get rid of your weapon in the apartment, I thought you would kill me, the other close, that's why I woke up, and pointed the gun at his head, are you still mad about that? "she asked.

"You look tired," "I will give you at home."

"Really Sherwood not weigh in some false security that you see, dear, I would have pulled the trigger, it was not loaded and you say that it was."

The two Saturday it quietly for a moment longer, almost as if they weigh in deafness.

"I will go home by myself, I know the way," she said.

Babenhausen, Courtyard (1974)

They stepped outside the guesthouse, on the pavement, the morning sun was getting hotter, but it was a fresh breeze into the warm air mixed.

He looked about for a moment just a flash for a second, perhaps, or perhaps ten seconds at most, but one million bits of information flooded his cerebellum: He wanted to normal, like the majority of people with normal behavior, without Ebbing consequences, no abrupt changes, which could take place in every minute every day, he wants to and also, of course at the bottom of their frequencies would no longer endure psychological bent emotion, schizophrenia, or tendencies they would produce somewhere in their intellectual upheaval: She was so angry and frustrated easily. She had mood changes similar to the Flick of a map in Poki, long deep sleep spells, the hard disk looking empty, Rock, as the eyes, if they do not get their way. He knew that it was their genes that they do not like it mood swings, for such a young and beautiful and intelligent woman (her ancestors as the German stock itself), and she had no control over them as the people of the moon, had over night and day. And so they fought back and forth like cats and dogs, rats and cats, and until it is abandoned and is drunk, that was the only thing that stopped the ongoing, constant quarrels, until he is again.

It was almost a permanent shadow in his mind, he went on egg shells when he was around them and held their breath, hoping she sleeps, when he returned from a walk in the afternoon, in writing or period, or to drink in the spell of the evening, sex was a dreary event to say the least, it was difficult to have an erection to get excited when he was beaten over the head with a scornful and hurtful words all day, hard to kiss, love as if nothing had taken place, it was often better to get into the bathroom and do what you intend to do, needed to cope with the urge to get beyond terrible, and used like a dirty old carpet, should be intensified later with these dirty Shoes of yesterday, or that on the same day the praetor used. Oh, it was not their fault that he knew, but it was how it was, nevertheless, and permanent, painful, no question, a born-again cycle of being drained of your life funds. Therefore, he tried to get a day to do some writing, he could do, usually in the park, where he could be the right attitude, a quiet, peaceful neighborhood, where the birds sang freely and without interruption, and the flowers seemed to reach you with the adoration, no remorse for expectant breath God's air, and the butterflies circle his head as if he were a prince, and she wished him a crown, and the mood to write his numbers, descriptions, dialogue, and explanations , would flow like a kite on a breezy day, and he would work his plot, and system, and the subject, and so on unabated.

He took another step, another ten seconds quiet hastened his cerebellum, some fear for their rigid views with their unblinking blue eyes, he looked at her and his mouth was dry, she had an abrupt lunge their abstinence in their face was as wild, a hellish bent over it like a purple curtain. He looked back around him, he heard something, and it was the waiter in the window he was cleaning the table she sat on.

"Well, the good care of himself, I'm going home," she said.

"where he stood, as they walk away, he thought and thought and thought, 'What kind of woman is this? She's like a minute, the next she is unhappy."

He saw her walk down the street, knowing the only way to silence her after she was the tires, but also in the process, the hours - he tired.

It was one of those women in the darkness, he is not fully understood, he had them in the psychologists say, when they would not go, he, her home, that was months ago, they gave her some Minnesota-test, and it turned out positively paranoid schizophrenia, with some other mentally ill classifications. At times, he himself felt he was a surrogate parent, not a husband.

But the psychologist seemed to be quite a lot in the area when he spoke to them both everything seemed to fit their profile, in fact, that its unusual design, especially in thought, he wanted to kill them, so they kill him would be first with the weapon. On the other side of the coin, they might very well with the everyday issues that her memory was ok, but her concentration went down, and her suicidal behavior, they tried to draw in the bathtub, and he told her, almost humorous, "You can not kill himself that way, your internal system fight against them."

He thought that later, it was a bad thing for Carla to be done, and there was no sense in it makes it fun. That is, if the doctors on the drugs.

she had told him: "I want you to friends, men and women, it does not matter, and not just in love with them."

And if it around them, they would be jealous and spiteful, one evening, when several professors at the University of Maryland at, they all threw plates of food on its head by jerks, and the table cloth. That was the end of the party and a group of friends nervous.

She had told him, "I know not with women or men, you know, dass" And that was her way of saying they did not want friends. On the other hand, she said her husband, "Only with me to help me, me, do the laundry, and we can sleep together and now."

No more surprises

Sherwood noticed how the bridge, now in the middle is that the LED in the park, an old man, fishing, a few boys, seven or eight years old, in the shallow waters the bay, playing beneath the surface, more splashing and blowing bubbles, it was not that deep, maybe three to four feet.

There were many more people walk through, cross the bridge on foot each way, some children cried,

"Look, the old man up!"

Sherwood saw the fish seemed slim, but it was a fish. That was my life around, he said I am his second, what is hidden in the rear part of the mind, in some hidden chamber. The one that you talk to, and usually no answers, but is a good listener.

Several men were a few sites, some of them were on a building across the street, Kitty-corner, if you have some building work, they all had bottles of beer, more beer bottles lie on, took a drink, then again nach unten und ging zurück an die Arbeit.

Sherwood then leaned over the bridge, his elbows on the iron rail as a few more children appeared from nowhere to see the old man with a fish.

"What is he?" asked a voice, but Sherwood not make the class of the old man, the fish in nature, is.

Next, he turned about, saw the pension he had just left, the waiter looked at him even as he kept sweeping the edge of the road in front of his workplace. He had seen him and his wife are a lot of time, although he more often than both of them together, and he was sure that he is their dilemma that there is to know they were not good for another, but they remained with another.

The water in the brook was nice, fresh and cool, clear as a clean glass window.

"Yes," he said loud talking, maybe I am his second, or on the railing, or whomever, maybe even about God in the water, "it's so true, it is always dangerous, even to me" he said in a convincing tone.

He lit a cigarette, muttered: "I am to change," was his star but murmur "is more than change," he added, "it is their desire for me too. Therefore, no more surprises her, but every minute with her is a surprise. "

" Maybe I should not let what they do Oh yes, it is very sad, but I thought it long enough, and how long is enough, and how much is enough is enough, now that enough today, it is something that she and I really want. It really is. Yes, it's all right! "

He tried to convince them to let her go, a once and for all, critical thinking loud, it enlarges to the top of his head, and from his mouth, "Well," he said, "I want to go because they want to go. Yes, it is better to be alone, I am alone anyways, this is my surprise for them, I let it go this time and not look back. "evening

Descending

He was walking aimlessly in the city as often as he wants to stop a few B & Bs with a beer here and there a glass of red wine, ate a ham sandwich on a disco-bar, heard a song Neil Diamond, he was found, "Cracklin 'Rosie," he had heard it before, it was not, that all new new, but it was circulated in Germany, it made him happy, sad, and drifty in a nice way, Cracklin 'Rosie was his bottle of beer, wine or his lover for the night, the girl that he has could, because it was the home he never had, or would have. The exchange was a reasonable one he thought, as reasonable as he'd get (the song was befitting him, because his wine and his beer were all store bought inferred as the song, and it did make him sing like guitar humming. In his old neighborhood, they all bought cheap red wine and got drunk during the evenings, a Gallo product, perhaps, a ro-say, wine, and the song took him back to the far-days so all in all, the song it melancholically).

, and then he left the bar, said he himself was time to return home, he said he would himself have to make sure that the gun was empty when he home, he could not sleep one night thinking they may be dangerous, as she says, she feels.

He declined, however, the apartment door, "Good evening," he said to his wife, the room was poorly lit, and he was slightly drunk.

He was very careful not to disturb their mood.

"Go back and get drunken," she told him: "Come back when I sleep, I returned to St. Paul, Minnesota tomorrow."

He looked at her, she was curled in a corner of the leather couch, with a cigarette in hand, he noted, three burn holes in the bus.

"Look, what you do, I will have to pay for the entire bus now (it was a furnished apartment)."

They saw, "I think you have a few nights before!" She said, regardless, "so do not blame me, you're drunk all the time, and you feel well, to sleep."

"Do you have your medication?" He asked.

"Can you not say, I think, and probably like a zombie?"

Sherwood reached the top of the bookcase, took his 45-automatic that was the clip of bullets.

"I see you under my guidance, intelligent boy." You commented.

He had a beer in the refrigerator, he took it out, opened it, sat in a chair and a Camel cigarette smoke, darkness and Beck's beer, and let a deep sigh hidden.

He tried to write a paragraph in his new book, but everything seemed complicated. This was his third book, the last two, "Romancing San Francisco" and "Where is the bird do not sing," were the places he worked from 1968 to 1971, this was his third, over Augsburg, Germany, where he 1970. He crossed this, and that until he could not really see what was what then of the "July 5, 1974."

He had come to the conclusion he was powerless in her, and for himself, he was perhaps too codependent if you are not at him, him to her, or even to each other, and he fights for his own conservation, to establish its own identity before they are swallowed, and he had none. They were like two souls drowning in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean without a life raft, naked, as can be.

"Yes," he said.

"Yeah, what?" She replied.

"Yes, I think a trip to the station in Aschaffenburg or Munster or Dieburg, one of the three, probably, from Dieburg Munster, it is closer, and buy your tickets for your departure, this will take you directly to" Frankfurt am Main , "and from there take a taxi to the airport, you have your passport, this is everything you need, and I will give you money tomorrow, I go to the bank and make $ 2000 dollars, that's all what we have until I get paid. "

" Give me a glass of beer, "she asked.

"Well," he said. She looked happy again. She had it before, a number of times only to back him, wants to return there, where he was. But his thinking was different now, he knew it was a kind way for her, she could not live on a two-way, and it would be a life of perseverance and more threats from the pass each year.

"I knew that force you to send me home." She said.

"What?" He asked.

"I'm always dangerous."

"There is a long night, until tomorrow," he said, "What do you want now?"

"Let's go to bed, and do it!"

"I can not," he said.

Carla laughed heartily: "I swear, you are homosexual, and you like men you do not."

He shook his head, he whispered, as she went into the bedroom, and he on the couch to sleep the night: "I will wait (again, the mood was dead)."

A New Morning

Sherwood awoke in the morning, almost at first light, looked out the window, his legs were stiff from crotched in the couch. Sat on the edge, trying to wake up completely. He remembered everything that was said last night, and had hoped they would not had changed her mind. He looked at her sleeping disorders from the door of his bedroom, remembrance, as it was their image when they first met, it was a good image. Then he went to the toilet, has a warm shower, shaved, on a T-shirt, and light wind jacket, a pair of trousers, carefully checked and returned to the bedroom, she was awake, she stood up, she sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled at the door where he stood, and slammed it in his face, without a word. Somehow, he knew it would be this way, she had to be sharpened their last lead from their system, revolts against him once more for him to marry her. He figured it would be a terrible day, but perhaps the last one with her.

They had everything they needed, their luggage and passport in hand, and said: "Let us."

exit

As they have on the train, he found he knew much more about it than if it was the first to her, the process and the progress of getting to know the other person, your mate, more than a dimension expected sometimes. He felt lucky she even returned to the train, she was not a simple woman, she had on the train, never again with him, even before that, they hesitated, as if she wanted him to talk her out of the IT and he wanted to, but he could not, and I think she knew, dass Not a glance was missed by one of them, because they did not want all eyes on to remember the other, so that they do not has.

afternoon he improved with a normal heartbeat and his breathing was back to normal, and he does not have to worry about walking on egg shells more, she was gone, so that his nervous system has been repaired, he felt. He wrote in the park that afternoon for a long time now, and it seemed to him that he would never stop, his inspiration was again intact.

After Thoughts

(schizophrenia)

Hey, Sherwood, had learned by attending classes and talking with the doctors, and the observation of their schizophrenia, first-hand, there are many possible combinations of symptoms: genetics, early environment, neurobiology, psychological and social processes are important factors, such as multiple personality disorder or split personality, in popular culture, the two are often confused with schizophrenia, and do not belong to this category of abnormal behavior. Auf der anderen Seite der Medaille, war es in der Natur der kognitiven, sondern auch in der Regel zu chronischen Probleme mit dem Verhalten und Emotionen. Außerdem ist die durchschnittliche Lebenserwartung er für diese Leute mit der Erkrankung von 10 bis 12 Jahren weniger als die, ohne durch erhöhte körperliche Gesundheit und eine höhere Selbstmordrate. Alles in allem hat er gelernt, über ihre Schizophrenie, und es war wahrscheinlich, dass zusätzliche (CO morbiden) Bedingungen, einschließlich der großen Depression, die er bereits erlebt, und Angststörungen, die er auch erlebt, verbunden mit manischen Episoden. Und, dass der sicheren Seite der Medaille nicht, um in Drogenmissbrauch, es nur eine Verschlechterung der Lage.

Schriftliche Februar, 20 & 21, 2009 (4045 Wörter)
 
Afterthoughts und "Der Shop in Dieburg, 'hinzugefügt 22.2.2009 0000 0002

 

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