Patient F
presents with a
special syndrome
of false masculinity and
dejection.

He is on the border of a
manic-depressive
diagnosis.

He asks, “Doesn’t your mother have a
lot of
problems?”

One is tempted to say
that he’s the one
with problems.

One settles for both. Both of you guys do.


He raises his voice to spark fear
and assume authority,
but when he’s at the other’s
mercy,
he lowers
his voice
— almost pleading,
nearly completely
complacent
and nearing
indifference —  
and wins the other’s
trust.

“The other” is his wife.

When he addresses his daughters, he is stern,
joking,
and sometimes completely
“away.” Not exactly
there.

One doesn’t completely know when to approach him.
Once a simple question turned into a threat.

Patient F is impatient.
He looks out the window,
he stares at his iPad,
he angrily rakes leaves
or toils under a car,
and he stays awake at night until five in the morning.

Community college is a blur.

He integrates his feelings into essays, but the
words
aren’t quite
spelt right.
You understand him, though, when you want to.

Going home on the train and getting a disappointed message from him was
hell.
One isn’t exactly sure where the intonation is, but you
fear for the anger awaiting you under the porch light.

Many things aren’t explained to him.
American parents have instilled values into him
that he
doesn’t really care about
anyway.

The other is a foil rather than a partner.

Pain and politics —
Another day in the life

Of Patient

F