Love among Survivors: Bastille Day 2014 (July 13-16)

Day two, Tuesday, begins overcast and noisy. The racket from the various kinds of traffic on Holland Avenue is getting in my skull and rattling around with the voices that have recently rejoined me from the ward, the clinic and the root cellar. I stayed up all night with activists Kathy, Lauren and George, holding the vigil for those who have been killed, incarcerated, incapacitated and silenced by psychiatry. I walk up the street to the hotel where the other vigil participants are staying, and slide into my psychiatric patient mind. The voices are too loud. The traffic is too close. God, I need some pills. Can I get off the street before someone notices that I need to be locked up?