Being a women in the 1800's was not for the weak of mind. You had to be perfect all the time. Being unpresentable was unacceptable. Speaking your mind was madness in and of itself. Few dared to test the madness, but, for those that did, there was both freedom and pain like they never knew before. To these women, we women of today owe everything and are eternally grateful.
Meet The Real Elizabeth
“I don’t think I know where to begin. Honestly, I’m not even sure how I got here. I know that’s a horrible thing to admit. My older sista’ Emma always told me that I should neva’ tell people when I don’t know somethin’ because it just shows how insecure I really am. Suppose she’s right. Guess I should just shut up when I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. Oh no…I’m sorry. I can’t believe I cursed. I really shouldn’t have done that. My momma says proper ladies don’t say things like that. My papa just tells me I’m going to hell. That’s all there is to it. I’m going to hell! I mean aren’t we all? I’m a sinner, you’re a sinner, she’s a sinner, and he’s a sinner…we’re all FUCKIN’ sinners for CHRIST FUCKIN’ SAKES! Oh no, there I go again. I’m sorry. I really am. Oh shit…where are my manners? I almost forgot to introduce myself to you. I am Miss Elizabeth Anne Wallace. Oh yes, and before I forget, let me introduce you to my two dearest friends in the whole world: Henry and George. Why don’t you two fellas say hello for me? Hmm, I guess they don’t feel like talkin’ much today. That’s guys for ya. One second they’ll chew your ear off with nonsense about their day at work and all that business types of sorts, and the next minute they don’t say a word. Like thank you very fuckin’ much for cooking dinner would be god damn nice for once! Oh shit…I’m sorry. I did it again, didn’t I? I guess I really am set on going to hell. My papa says that not even God himself can help me now. I pray every day though. I need to pray. The angels are trying to kill me even as we speak. I’m getting tired. So tired. I hate this all. Don’t you all know what I’m talking about? Why are you just fuckin’ sitting there and staring at me? Damn I’m really tired now. Don’t know if it’s all this cursin’ I’m doing or these awful meds. Did I tell you yet how much I hate these meds? Umm, maybe I should lay down for a bit before I tell you..just a little rest..”
"Behind Closed Doors: A Look Inside Insane Asylums of the 19th Century"
“Hey George, you got a cigarette on ya? Don’t go a lying to me now! I saw you smokin’ last night just before I passed out. I know these meds are messin’ with me and all, but if it’s one thing I still got is my eyesight! Now hurry up…quick…slip me a cig before one of those crazy, mean ass nurses comes in here and ruins it for me! Oh shit, never mind, put it away! Hurry! Here comes that old cranky one!”
“Elizabeth, who were you talking to?”
“No one Miss Nurse Lady mam.”
“Now Elizabeth, how many times have we talked to you about lying? Should I go fetch the doctor? Perhaps we need to add more meds..”
“No Miss…Please! I was talkin’ to George. I wanted a cig so bad! You know how harhd it’s been for me to quit Miss Nurse Lady. Please take pity, please!”
“Hmm. I won’t tell the doctor this one time, but you still need to be punished for your lie. I think one hour in a cold shower will do just right. I will send an orderly for you.”
To be continued...
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