Mental Illness in the Streets and Superpowers

A Seattle urban vignette in seconds

Heavy traffic along the Seattle/Shoreline border. Construction, motor vehicles, regular pedestrians, and, sadly, fellow humans who appeared homeless and mentally ill. Mental illness is itself a culturally ingrained yet incorrect label we place upon people with diseases and injuries of the mind and emotions yet are as physical as cancer, tuberculosis, and fractured femurs. All things mental arise from the body, and so-called mental illness is as physical as anything physical. Perhaps a more accurate term is neuropsychological diseases and injuries. Too much of a mouthful, tho, for what is a global pandemic of mental illness and emotional trauma.

Early this Saturday afternoon as I pulled out from Walgreens onto Aurora Avenue in my car upon the last day of August 2024, I noticed the folks waiting nearby for the bus. They had my attention, those fellow human beings. Glad traffic was light, too, as then was able to whip out carefully and methodically instead of the usual dash and dart. My goodness, those fellow humans appeared to be really weird looking fellow human beings. One of them sat on the bench at the bus stop there. She was an enormous White woman, simply gargantuan, and appeared to weigh, gosh, maybe 300 or 350 pounds. All she had on was a teeny tiny black swimsuit, and it was all stretched out as she reclined upon that bench taking slow, calm drags on a cigarette. Temps was mid-70s outside, Fahrenheit, and her pasty, white flesh overflowed out of her super tight, stretched out everwhichaway black swimsuit.

Right next to her, on her right side, sat a teeny tiny, old Black man with bad hair all mashed up end pulled out crazy like like wild blackberry brambles pulling down a rusty, old barbed wire fence. The fella crouched upon the bench like a scrawny little bear cub doggie boo. He wore dirty gray and blue clothes. Dwarfed by the lady he shared the bench with, he gripped a cigarette between thumb and index finger. The man jabbed that cigarette in and outa his mouth every other second as he puffing jerkily with high, agitated anxiety. As the flow of buses, cars, and trucks eased up, I darted out into lanes of traffic and rocketed north. Continue reading

Mental Illness in the Streets & Superpowers

A Seattle urban vignette in seconds

Heavy traffic along the Seattle/Shoreline border. Construction, motor vehicles, regular pedestrians, and, sadly, fellow humans who appeared homeless and mentally ill. Early this Saturday afternoon as I pulled out from Walgreens onto Aurora Avenue heading north, to my right noticed a strange looking human being sitting on the bench at the bus stop there. She was an enormous White woman, simply gargantuan. All she had on was a teeny tiny black swimsuit, and it was all stretched out around her torso as she reclined upon that bench while she took slow, calm drags on a cigarette. Had been hot. Today’s temperatures were in the mid-70s outside. Her pasty white flesh overflowed out of that super tight, stretched out everwhichaway black swimsuit. Right next to her, on her right side, crouched a teeny tiny old Black man with bad hair all mashed up and pulled out jaggedly in all directions. He squatted next to her upon the bench like a scrawny little bear cub doggie boo. He wore dirty gray and blue clothes, and jabbed a cigarette in and out of his mouth every other second as he puffed jerkily with high, agitated anxiety. As traffic opened up, I darted out into the lane and rocketed north.

A whole month later, on the morning of Monday the 30th of September, I witnessed in seconds as I drove along Aurora Avenue again more people endangering themselves and others. At the same bus stop as before, a youngish Black man bounced around hunched over and swinging his arms wildly. He seemed to be screaming and singing at the same time. Couldn’t tell what the hell he was doing. Except he never stood up and at times he raced and skittered quickly about like a giant spider. There were three piles of clothes and bags and random possessions around the bus stop, and he tore thru each one in turn. As he did so he snatched and flung items up in the air and out into the street. He’d zip out into the street, stop and shout, all while hunched over, then spider back to the bus stop. Two women tried to stand there to wait for the bus, but they couldn’t take any more of his blammy nuttery and in less than a minute ran away. Maybe he was hunched over due to Fentanyl, but he moved as if cranked on speed and meth. Three other guys stood nearby ignoring him as they stood over a mound of clothes and luggage debris.  Continue reading