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The following is an excerpt from You’re Fine by Gina Tron through Papercut Press. Available online and at selected indie bookstores.
When I met Dr. Machecho, I found that he was not nearly as funny as his name.
“Have a seat,” he said sharply as I followed him into a small room. He was a tall, intimidating man with a cold demeanor. He sat in a chair in front of me and skimmed through some papers in a file.
“I didn’t have the chance to look at your chart yet. Why are you here?”
“Cocaine, mostly. They said I have PTSD and that I’m bipolar.” I said it all very matter of factually and with as little emotion as possible. I didn’t want him to see that I was annoyed with the place because I figured that would make him less likely to help me.
“I want to get out of here. I only got to attend two meetings here and they were not at all helpful for me.”
He was glancing down at a piece of paper that I guessed was my chart.
“So, I see you got raped.”
“Next time, make sure not to put yourself in that situation again.”
“Don’t put yourself in that situation again,” he stated with the deadest of eyes.
“How do you even know I put myself into that situation?”
“Then how did it happen?” he inquired with a smirk.
“You don’t even know anything about it! I don’t have to take this bullshit! I’ve been hard enough on myself.”
I stormed out of his office, ignoring his cries to stop as I walked to my room. In the corridor, I kicked over the same garbage can that I had knocked over before.
“Déjà vu,” I mumbled, giggling.
Tyler was lurking around the medication window and witnessed my tantrum.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
I told him what had occurred with Dr. Machecho and he sighed.
“What an asshole. But look, you gotta be cool with him. He’s responsible for getting you out of here. Just have him sign the papers for you.” The ex-crackhead, Tyler, had more
of a voice of reason than I did.
Dr. Machecho walked up to us. I was glaring at him and he seemed as though he was aware that he had said something wrong. I guess he thought that he could abuse me until I fought back. He was no different from all these other motherfuckers who think they can abuse whoever they want until the “victim” shows their fucking teeth. I feel like a lot of people, sometimes even people in authority, treat people they consider to be beneath them as animals. Guess if I’m an animal, I’m a koala: docile, yet vicious when provoked.
“Let’s talk,” said Dr. Machecho.
“I don’t want to talk to you! If you want to fucking talk, then talk to me in the hallway, where people can hear what you’re saying. I don’t trust you.”
He was visibly shaking. Perhaps he did not expect me to react in such a way, but I didn’t feel like I was acting that angry. My behavior was nothing compared to Natasha’s.
She’d probably punch this guy out for coughing.
“If you want to leave, then you have to sign some paperwork with me. I’ll give you whatever prescription drugs you want. And you have to promise to set up outpatient with your social worker. I’ll get the ball rolling on that. What are they giving you?”
“Paxil. Seroquel. Vistaril.”
“Okay, so I will give you a month’s worth of all those prescriptions. That should hold you over until you get a new doctor at your outpatient.”
He was very polite at this point. He spoke to me with respect, like he was talking to another human rather than a dog.
“Lovely,” I sneered. I resented him for only talking to me with respect because I had demanded it. I hated him for being a person who would, I perceive, prey on the weak. “How generous of you to give me all the drugs I want. If I get raped while on drugs that are prescribed to me, do I still deserve it?”
“You shouldn’t talk that way,” he said, “It’s unbecoming of a young lady.”
I was walking my dog and a man yelled out the window of his house “Hey baby, what’s your name?” I kept walking and he yelled “Well fuck you too then, slut.”. What? How am I a slut for walking my dog?
One guy called out to me while I was walking, “hey working girl, come over here.” Ten feet later another said to his friend, “look at the ASS on that girl in the blue dress.”
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My first day working there and a family was coming in after a funeral.
I was walking past the first group of people and one man started saying “she’s beautiful” over and over again, I ignored him and he shouted “c**t” at me.
Another groups of men kept whistling and saying “sexy arse” every time I walked past them.
I was counting down the minutes until I finished.
Going on a run around the neighboorhood and a truck of men pull up beside me n.slow down. Making all sorts of sexual comments towards me and pretending to lick my chest. Eventually I had enough and told them to fuck off but ONLY after I scared the shit out of them w my taser gun i keep on me at all times.
I was visiting France with classmates and at one point was walking back to meet them. Some of the men and women (college age) were waiting for everyone in a group, and some saw me and waved. As I waved back, two young men came up to me and asked me directions in French. I tried to give them directions but eventually switched to English. Once I admitted to being American they starting pulling in closer and saying how good my French was, to the point I was very uncomfortable. By the time I was able to explain I did not know where they wanted to go, they both gave me a hug and kiss (on the cheek, which I know is cultural, but still). I was rather flustered and went to the group of known friends happily.
I can accept that and move on, but it was the next part that upset me the most.
After I told them what happened, one young man chastised me for being so culturally ignorant and close-minded that I was complaining and upset over being held and kissed by two strangers! He was French himself, and explanations of personal space culture in American were dismissed because I should be trying new things. No one should be shamed in front of others because they did not want to be touched by others!
Man approached me late at night, invading my personal space and calling me “baby,”
Man leered at me as I walked home and made comments about my breasts.