Appropriate Adult

For years I’ve had this dream. I dream of doing something meaningful, of doing something good. It materialised in a police custody cell (was it the same cell where my brother died?), and is reaching extra proportions of plausibility by the day. I’m beginning to wonder about buying new business cards for this endeavour. The card would simply say APPROPRIATE ADULT (AA), followed by my phone number and website address. I would give it out to youngsters on the streets, to get going with. And don’t forget my psychosis group, which will hopefully grow, God willing (I pray!), and which will tie into everything I do in the future from here on in.

I spotted the term in a lawyer’s manual. I was rock-bottom in a cell – this was before the pepper spray, I recall – when a lawyer appeared from nowhere and approached me. He gave me a simple manual, with a smile, and went on his merry way. At the time, I couldn’t help thinking how clever he was, having wrote it himself. It was fabulous reading, on about rights for immigrants in cells and stuff. I was so down, and he was so modestly content with himself. There was one segment about scans in hospitals. After having a scan for my parasite and hearing nothing back, I was very interested in this part. But it was one simple term I came across, the term Appropriate Adult, that gripped my attention.

I would love to be that, I swore to myself. I can be that. For people like myself. For the young. For the Scarificationers. Sorry, I’ve made that word up, it means girls who self –harm. Girls who self-harm, are, to me, Scarificationers. They embark in scarification. You know, those truly beautiful teenagers who make pockmarks and tracks with blades. I love them on a similar plain to witches, if not more. I have so much compassion for girls who dye their hair and pierce their faces and hurt themselves. I tried dying my own hair golden bronze midweek, but it didn’t work. Perhaps it’s a blessing in a way. I feel like asking for my money back!

Yeah, so I’m thinking about dishing out my AA cards on the street. In Maccies, in the pub, outside the bus station, wherever. Not just to anybody, though. These girls (girls primarily, wink-wink), will have to have a kind of haunted depressive look about them. They will have to look young, troubled and down. If they are full of make-up and piercings in a short skirt, then of course they are getting a card. I must make it clear though, I am not trying to get into anybody’s knickers. I would give it to a GILF if I thought she would ring me. And don’t get me wrong also, I am not a legal professional. I’m just a guy here to listen on the end of a phone, meet up if necessary, and support.

Wouldn’t you know it, Appropriate Adult is a movie. And a proper profession. But you should see my version of it. I could be a special one, especially for those in psychosis. Wish me luck with it!

I know it’s weird and cringey, but f**k it.