I hate Christmas. I don’t want to celebrate it as a religious festival or a consumerist tryst. But I do because the people I love do enjoy it. I find it stressful, it brings back traumatic memories, and I am in a dissociative fugue for most of it. Madness is wrapped with razor tinsel and wrapped with many extra layers of pain at Christmas. I needed to find a way to survive it, and so I have created things like a madvent calendar. But I thought I’d share a song this year: The 12 Days of Christmas My Psychiatrist Prescribed for Me’
I have the voice of an angel grinder.
Here are the words if you want to sing along:
On the 12th day of Christmas, my psychiatrist prescribed for me:
12 Fingers Drumming
11 Gripes a griping
10 Tardive Dyskensias
9 Sexual Dysfunctions
8 Moobs a Milking
7 Drowning not Swimming
6 Sedated Lay ins
5 Haemorrhoid Rings
4 Calls Not Returned
2 Increased Weight Gain
And a brutal ride back to sanity!