What can YOU say in six sentences?
She concocts her mental state, deliberately, like a house of cards.
Its downfall might take hours or days or only moments, but she's
numb to the grind of it, if not the agony.
The inevitable crash, always painful and depressing (and always
getting worse), is part of a continuum that strangely validates her
as she chases the storm inside.
Juggling oxys and meth and torpor meds with pot and cheap booze
is a witches' brew that needs constant tending --a little more of this,
and some of that-- to be ''just right'' which it never is.
Mix in that she's bi-polar and chronically broke and has been kicked
out of every ER and clinic from here to Butte, even being jailed
several times for outbursts, including assaults, and you get an idea
of how shrunken her horizons have become for her.
''I'm just trying to get my mind right,'' she says, ''and maybe stay out
of jail for the rest of the Summer.''