dear dr

.

dear dr

.

on that proud, glorious day

you graduated from medical school

you took an oath as old as Hippocrates

remember?

“above all, do no harm”

above all, do no harm

do no harm

no harm

.

ah but the trouble is

you thought you were doing Good

by warehousing us in that

sterile, oppressive, un-hospitable place

you called the hospital

you practiced the toughest form of tough love there is—

so tough

i could not see no love

nowhere

.

you placed the blame

squarely on our brains

squarely on our seratonin flow

our synapses

labelling us with whatever diagnosis

on whatever page of your book

you found appropriate

at the time –

.

you thought you could turn us around

make us productive future citizens

make us fit into this

authoritarian

sexist

racist

ageist

militaristic

society your generation

the greatest generation

built

.

you always insisted that we were the problem

and that you were the solution

but your treatments, your cures

your directives issued from on high

did not heal our brains

did not open our hearts -

.

.they merely transformed these organs

into impassive lumps of bitter rage

.

if anything, dear dr

you taught me how to act

you taught me all the world’s a stage

you pushed me to award-winning performances

and the award was

life away from your indifferent eyes

.

your pronouncements of health or ill

your indecipherable scribbles

on the prescription pad –

the infernal fifteen minutes

you gave me each week

.

in a word, dear dr, the award was

freedom

or at least a glimmer

.

perhaps I give you too much credit, oh dr dear

assuming

that you saw me as something more than

.

billable hours

business as usual

another bed, filled

until the money ran out

this time

.

dear dr

you’ll never know

in your ivory tower on the second floor

of the locked teen ward

how many years i’ve spent

sweating and struggling

to undo all the harm you did

the harm you did

with the best of intentions

paving my road to hell

.

i declare war on all you scribbled

in my chart

building a new chart

charting a course of humanity and dignity

with scribbles and shouts of my own

and all the while Hippocrates’ bones

are twitching in their grave

dear dr

.

leah ida harris

For more great anti-psychiatry perspectives, from this author and others, check out our evolving resource; http://www.againstpsychiatry.com