Monday, May 13, 2013

The Road and Your Tour Bus

Congratulations, you've been diagnosed with one or a combination of mental health issues!

Don't look so downhearted. There are perks, I promise!

Like this tour bus - it's bedecked and bedazzled with bling, and we won't make you ride alone. Here's a psychiatrist and a therapist to ride along with you. It's up to you to persuade your family and friends to climb aboard.

This crappy image belongs to me.

Initially you keep your giant tour bus a secret. You take side streets and cover it with several tarps sewn together to avoid the eyes of curious neighbors. You cautiously allow a few friends to join you, and your parents take front seats. The ride is bumpy, but having everyone together makes the journey much easier. 

You find a special person who is willing to ride in your big, goofy tour bus full of doctors and family members. Maybe this tour bus isn't such a bad perk.

Then you start hitting toll booths. The first booth isn't so bad. There's no EasyPass, but between the whole group you're able to scrunch up the cash for the toll. Then you hit another. And another. And another. Money doesn't make it to the front window so easily, and it takes longer and longer to count up the coins. 

People are getting sick of riding this damn tour bus. They're tired, hungry, and out of quarters. Everyone is irritable, and someone clogged the toilet. Your friend explains that they've had enough. Not of your diagnosis, but of this experience. "It's too overwhelming." 

Once, you try to get off to the tour bus, too. You put on parka and try to slip out with the rest of the group. Not so fast. This is your bus, and you can't just get off your bus.


After a while, you notice that there are some people on your tour bus that you just don't want there anymore. So you kindly express your desire that they scooch their derriere off your bus. Some take the hint, others require a gentle shove, and still others need to be thrown off while the bus in motion.

In an angry fit, you jettison more than half of the cast of your bus. For a while you drive on, feeling the high of a crazed dictator. But a tour bus is not intended for a few. So you end up driving in reverse, apologizing, and picking a few back up. You leave the meanies though. They can get picked off by zombies for all you care.

While talking to your therapist one day, you ask what the final destination is. "There is no destination. Only a journey." You contemplate punching everyone, but that seems impractical. After a lot of thought and plenty of tears, you come to terms with this arrangement. You do get to ride around with a group of amazing people and see some beautiful sights. It's not ideal, but it's not a death sentence either. It's a different way of living.

By the way, you're all invited on my tour bus.
Thank you for reading my blog and supporting me.