Your browser lacks required capabilities. Please upgrade it or switch to another to continue.
Loading…
<h1>How to Knit a Human</h1>
//An Interactive Memoir//
//by Anna Jacobson//
[[Begin]]
[[About]]
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/waking_smaller.gif" alt="An animation of a woman lying on a bed, her hair spiralling out like branches, leaves sprouting, and then growing back into her head. The animation repeats on loop." />You are in a white room and something has changed.
Something has happened to your memory.
walk to the [[shower?]]
or walk down the [[corridor?]]
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/waking_up_inverted.jpg" alt="A drawing of a woman lying in a bed, a plastic band around her wrist. Her curly hair coils over the pillow" />What colour was my madness? I was not there to see it, but I am told it was kaleidoscopic and florid and bizarre. My experience of madness is valid. Stolen from consciousness; someone experienced it, but not me— my body perhaps? Waking up in hospital in 2011 was like having been in a coma for two months. Now I join and piece my story together— I have tried many times, in different orders, structures and selves, using whatever form I can. I do not take memory and sanity for granted. I do not take many things for granted anymore. But what is hindsight, if not wisdom for a future self? What is stress, if not food for a madness seed?
-Anna Jacobson
Content Warning for 'How to Knit a Human': Madness and ECT
Please note: this interactive memoir does not contain sound.
Acknowledgemtns
Thank you, Mum, Dad, and my brother Alan – your love and understanding mean everything to me. Thank you to my wonderful PhD supervisors at QUT: Associate Professor Kári Gíslason and Associate Professor Lesley Hawkes – your guidance helped greatly. This project has received support through an Australian Government Research Training Program Scholarship
Return to [[How to Knit a Human]]
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/htkah_knit.jpg" alt="A self-portrait photograph of Anna holding up her knitting of a long patchwork scarf" />
A giant shower appears. You have forgotten the soap. The bottle of body wash on the floor is unfamiliar. Not yours. The scent is comforting. Orange. You've forgotten a towel and your clothes. There’s a damp towel on the hook inside the shower door. It is not yours?
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/3-1.jpg" alt="A drawing of a girl standing under the running water of a shower" />
take the [[towel]]
or put the thin [[gown]] back over your wet skin
A woman is watching you—a pretty nurse with curly blonde hair. She suggests you have a shower.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/feet_corridor2.gif" alt="feet pacing up and down the corridor." />
go and have a [[shower?]]
or ask [[‘How long have I been here?’]]
You take the towel and get dressed at your bed. You pull on a t-shirt you recognise as yours.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/4-1.jpg" alt="A drawing of a girl trying to get into a t-shirt" />
You decide to walk down the [[corridor]]
You put your gown back on. It sticks to your wet skin. See-through. Your feet leave wet footprints on the floor down the corridor. A woman is watching you—a pretty nurse with curly blonde hair.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/feet_corridor2.gif" alt="feet pacing up and down the corridor." />
Ask [[‘How long have I been here?’]]
Your feet leave wet footprints on the floor down the corridor. A woman is watching you—a pretty nurse with curly blonde hair.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/feet_corridor2.gif" alt="feet pacing up and down the corridor." />
Ask [[‘How long have I been here?’]]
‘Six weeks, you’ve just had another round of ECT.’
You know what ECT is. Electroconvulsive Therapy. You try to keep hold of your expression.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/tears_hold.gif" alt="animation of girl holding many reflections. One of these reflections has tears" />
The nurse has upset you and you don't want her to see. At the same time, a feeling of acceptance washes through you.
‘What month is it?’ asks the nurse.
You have a feeling it is May.
Guess: [[May]]
Guess: [[April|May]]The nurse writes down your answer.
‘It’s August,’ she tells you.
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/august.gif" alt="animation of the letters april and may morphing into august" />
A different nurse places a rectangular wafer in your palm. You don’t know what to do with it.
Put the wafer on your [[tongue]]
Your limbs feel slow in the fluorescent light. You put the wafer in your mouth. It dissolves on your tongue like fairy floss.
You drink water from the tiny paper cup to get rid of the funny taste.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/tablets.gif" alt="animation of girl swallowing tablets and water" />
‘You usually make a fuss. Had to give you the liquid form the other day. Changed your mind, have you?’
Surely the nurse can see you are not the same person you were before.
‘Don’t mind that bitch. I’m Joyce. You probably won’t remember me after all your ECT though.’
Access Inventory of [[the Women on Your Ward]]Inventory of the Women on your Ward
[[Joyce]]
[[the anorexic girls]]
[[The Oracle]]
[[the girl with the gifts]]
[[the woman with white hair]]
[[the Nurses at the Station]]
[[Anna]]
[[Continue on]]
Joyce tells you she stole her overalls from prison. You think this is the coolest thing since morning tea. Arnott’s biscuits and Jatz and cheese in packets have never tasted so good. When your parents visit, you show them the leftover Jatz and cheese sprinkling the laminate bench, pleased you can offer them something. Out on the barred balcony you introduce them excitedly to your new friend. Joyce is leaving tonight. You are hopeful it will be your turn soon.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/11-1.jpg" alt="A drawing of a girl introducing her parents to a woman in overalls on a barred balcony" />
return to the Inventory of [[the Women on Your Ward]] You never see one without the other. The two girls take care of you, take turns brushing your hair, getting out knots, paint your nails fuchsia. They fold paper cranes in the day room—trying to reach one thousand to make their wish. At the paper-marbling tray, they pluck strands of their own hair to swirl the ink.
return to Inventory of [[the Women on Your Ward]]
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/marbling.jpg" alt= "A piece of paper-marbling in swirls of yellow and green, with a white air-bubble in the middle" />
A woman parades in pajamas of moons and stars, glasses held with sticky tape. The oracle accosts you in the corridor— calls you a heroin addict from the Gaza strip.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/oracle.gif" alt="animation of a face appearing in a crystal ball" />
return to Inventory of [[the Women on Your Ward]]
She says you can try on her lilac top with skinny straps. You try it on and she tells you it is now yours to keep.
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/lilac2.jpg" alt="picture of a girl holding up a lilac top" />
return to Inventory of [[the Women on Your Ward]]You play scrabble together. You don’t keep score.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/scrabble.gif" alt="hands placing tiles on a scrabble board" />
She seems the only normal one on the ward and seems more focused than the nurses. You don’t know why she is trapped here; don’t know what kind of madness she has.
return to Inventory of [[the Women on Your Ward]] You sit at the breakfast table eating crunchy cornflakes and sugar with cold milk.
A nurse scolds: ‘You were meant to fast for your round of ECT. We’ll have to reschedule. How else will you get better?’
You call your mother from the Nurses Station in tears. Glimpse a photograph paper-clipped to your file. You are not looking at the camera or wearing your glasses. Your hair is witch-wild, eyes heavy lidded dark circles beneath.
//This is you. Surprised?//
The nurse’s eyes mock you.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/mock.gif" alt="mocking eyes" />
return to Inventory of [[the Women on Your Ward]]The women on your ward pass you their desserts to cheer you up. You have all the pre-packaged mousse, rice puddings and chocolate milk Breakas you need.
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/mousse.gif" alt="animation of desserts on a conveyor belt arriving in girl’s place at table" />
The pretty nurse with curly blonde hair does not take them away.
return to Inventory of [[the Women on Your Ward]]
Time moves strangely in hospital. One minute you’re in bed, the next minute you’re being wheeled down the corridor to have another round of ECT.
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/12_1.jpg" alt="A drawing of a girl being wheeled in a wheelchair by a nurse." />
[[Tell the nurse you can walk]]
‘This way will be quicker,’ replies the nurse, continuing to zoom you down the corridor. You scrape your feet along the carpet, trying to slow the proceedings.
She turns you into the room. A team of doctors surround you. They are all smiling.
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/redeyes_2.gif" alt="animation of a girl lying down surrounded by evil smiling faces with flashing red eyes" />
[[Try to escape]]
or [[accept things are out of your control]]
You try to move but you can’t. Your limbs are heavy, the table you seem to be lying on is too high up, and you are surrounded.
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/hand.gif" alt="animation of an arm with fingers trying to move" />
[[Take a deep breath]]This is your last moment— you are going to die.
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/countdown.gif" alt="countdown from 5-0" />
[[Take a deep breath]] Your veins turn cold; a metallic taste fills your mouth. Your body is not yours anymore. It does not belong to you in this moment.
You regain your consciousness as a nurse wheels you back up the corridor to the ward. You notice a Milky Way bar in your lap. You anchor yourself to the Milky Way packet, looking at its stars and swirls.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/13-1.jpg" alt="A drawing of stars and swirls that look like the universe." />
[[Eat the Milky Way Bar]]
You eat the milky way bar and immediately crave plain crinkle cut chips and Caramello koalas. You ask your parents to bring you these items from home. They deliver you a few packets of each.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/web1.jpg" alt="girl sitting on bed with packets of chips and chocolates around her" />
Do you [[ration them out?]]
or [[devour them all in one sitting]]
You do try to ration them- you stick a caramello koala in your bag for later, but end up devouring everything while sitting on your hospital bed anyway.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/web2.jpg" alt="girl in dinner suit juggling packets of chips and chocolates" />
Your sense of taste is heightened; the caramel and chocolate mixes deliciously with the salty crunch of the chips.
You decide to walk down the corridor and visit [[the craft table]]
You devour everything while sitting on your hospital bed.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/web2.jpg" alt="girl in dinner suit juggling packets of chips and chocolates" />
Your sense of taste is heightened, the caramel and chocolate mixes deliciously with the salty crunch of the chips.
You decide to walk down the corridor and visit [[the craft table]]
At the craft table, Melanie folds paper cranes with the same anger she uses to eat her meals. During dinner-time you watch her chop her dinner into tiny pieces with her fork, her face set and arms tense. She explains she won’t put on as much weight if she does this and moves her food around the plate, so it looks like she’s eaten more.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/74-1.jpg" alt="A drawing of a girl’s hand with tablets in her open palm." />
You take your tablets under bright fluorescent lights and [[go to bed]]
A circle of blue-white cuts through darkness like the light from a monstrous Anglerfish. The light is attached to a male nurse, appearing at the end of your bed.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/web3.jpg" alt="torch shining into a girls tired sore eyes" />
He holds the torch up to his face and grins, standing there for what seems like a full minute, watching you demon-like; so close you can see his stubble.
[[Try to move]]
or [[squint into the light]]
You can’t move, something is stopping your limbs. You wish he would go away but he keeps watching you. He does not lower the light or move away for a long time.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/web4.jpg" alt="ghost of a demonic grin floating above girl’s head" />
[[Chapter 2]]He grins wider. You wish he would go away but he keeps watching you. He does not lower the light or move away for a long time.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/web4.jpg" alt="ghost of a demonic grin floating above girl’s head" />
[[Chapter 2]] You want to write your stories. You ask the nurses when you’ll be able to have hospital leave or if there’s a laptop you can use.
‘Laptops are not accepted on the ward. After the doctor assesses you at your tribunal hearing you may be allowed to go on leave. Probably tomorrow.’
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/clock24hours.gif" alt="an irregular clock with many hands counting down the hours" />
Leave. Home. [[Freedom]] for 24 hours is imminent.
Hospital Leave
‘Where’s all my stuff?’ you ask Mum.
Your room looks impeccable.
‘I cleaned it for you. All your clothes were everywhere and your suitcase from your Melbourne trip was still packed with things. I thought I’d make it nice for when you came back.’
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/24-1.jpg" alt="A drawing of a girl opening a chest of drawers and peering inside." />
You spend the next hour going through all your drawers, reminding yourself of what is in them. When you finish looking you instantly forget again. Having a bag, phone and your watch back again feels like a luxury. Mum gives you a care package.
[[Open it]]
Inside the bag is:
a bag of licorice
fluffy socks
some hair conditioner
and loose-leaf peppermint tea.
There’s a scar on your ring finger in the shape of a fishing hook you haven’t seen before. You want to reel in its story from the ocean. The white line is deep enough to have sliced through your fingerprint. For once you are glad you have no memory of the pain. The crooks of your arms are covered in dozens of pinpricks from blood tests.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/22-1.jpg" alt="A drawing of a girl staring at her arms, which are covered in pinpricks from multiple blood tests." />
Your legs are werewolf-ish and your mono-brow has grown back. No tweezers or razors are allowed in hospital. You shave your legs and pluck your eyebrows furiously.
Open your [[cupboard?]]When you open your wardrobe, you see a pink metallic dress with puffy sleeves. Wondering who it belongs to, and why your Mum is storing her friend's clothes in your wardrobe, you take the dress off the rail.
‘What’s this doing in my cupboard?’
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/dress.jpg" alt="a girl holding up a puffy pink dress on a coat hanger" />
Your mum looks at you closely, then says— ‘you bought that in Melbourne.’
You do not remember your time in Melbourne, immediately before you became unwell. Mum asks if you would like to go to the Arboretum Park?
Say [[yes]]
Mum and Dad take you to the Arboretum Park with your brother. The air feels fresh against your skin, and everything smells of the earth. On the boardwalk, a black cat with yellow eyes suns itself and turtles poke their noses to the surface of the pond.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/turtle5.gif" alt="a turtle pokes its nose to the surface of the pond" />
After a while your legs start aching and Mum and Dad drive you back home. Before you head back to the hospital, your brother gives you a gift.
[[Open the box]]Inside is a miniature French horn in a black lacquered box, lined with red velvet. You keep it in your bedroom for when you're allowed home again. Your leave day is up.
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/fhorn.jpg" alt="A photograph of the miniature French horn in its black lacquered box, lined with red velvet" />
Go in the car with Dad back to the [[hospital]]‘Wow you had a makeover— your eyebrows. Where’d you get them done?’ says Melanie on your return.
‘I just did that myself.’
Melanie looks disbelieving.
Your dad appears around the corner again, carrying a jumbo plastic bag filled with medications supplied from the hospital. Everything is moving fast. You must be able to leave for good after all. It’s not just a return to the hospital, or another leave day.
Or perhaps there’s been a night at the hospital that you can’t remember? Your time awareness jumps as if in response to your excitement— you're about to taste real freedom. You walk with your father down the corridor. A woman appears in your path.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/flysuit.gif" alt="a drawing of a woman who looks like a fly in a suit" />
She appears too well-dressed and out-of-place to belong in the corridors of the public psychiatric hospital. The woman stands in front of you, blocking your way like an annoying fly in a suit.
[[Push past her]]
[[Pause and see what she has to say]]You just want to leave with your dad and go home.
‘I’m your case manager. My name is Stephanie’.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/salmon3.jpg" alt="a drawing of two salmon swimming upstream" />
Like two determined salmon swimming upstream against all forces, you and your dad continue to move through the corridor. Then you are out and into the car park. You are free.
[[Chapter 3]]You pause briefly because she's right in your way and refuses to budge, but just want to leave with your dad and go home.
‘I’m your case manager. My name is Stephanie’.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/salmon3.jpg" alt="a drawing of two salmon swimming upstream" />
Like two determined salmon swimming upstream against all forces, you and your dad continue to move through the corridor. Then you are out and into the car park. You are free.
[[Chapter 3]]You are welcomed back home in typical Jewish fashion: with food. Dad brings back babaganoush and hummous with tabbouleh, baklava and Turkish delight from the Lebanese deli ten minutes away. After lunch, you sit on the floor of your room, trying to piece everything together.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/27-1.jpg" alt="A drawing of a girl holding a visual diary and surrounded by scattered objects from her hospital bag." />
You take stock: you are 23 and it is August 2011, one month before you turn 24.
You unpack your [[hospital bag]] You find:
a [[visual diary]]
several plastic beaded necklaces
some folded origami cranes
a [[dream catcher]]
an empty caramello koala wrapper
Turn on your [[computer]]<a data-passage="pic1" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings000.jpg" alt="The words Anna's Journal drawn in green pencil" />
</a>
Click the image to turn the pages
or return to your findings in the [[hospital bag]] You remember choosing long feathers dyed in purples and crimsons. You'd picked a special glass-blown bead to thread into the web. Your fingers couldn’t remember how to tie knots so you'd looped the string until it tangled.
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/dreamcatcher008-1.jpg" alt="A photograph of a dream catcher with loose looping webbing" />
return to your findings in the [[hospital bag]] <a data-passage="pic2" class="link-internal link-image"><img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings001_straightened.jpg" alt="A shaky pencil drawing of two faces and an arrow in green" />
</a>
click the image to turn the pages
or close the visual diary and return to the [[hospital bag]] <a data-passage="pic3" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings002.jpg" alt="A woman blindfolded drawn in green pencil" />
</a>
Click the image to turn the pages
or return to your findings in the [[hospital bag]] <a data-passage="pic4" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings004.jpg" alt="A woman wearing a beret drawn in shaky green pencil" />
</a>
return to your findings in the [[hospital bag]] <a data-passage="pic5" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings005_straightened.jpg" alt="A woman with a bun playing the violin in shaky green pencil" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]] <a data-passage="pic6" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings007.jpg" alt="A bottle of pepsi drawn in shaky green pencil" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]] <a data-passage="pic7" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings009.jpg" alt="A piece of paper marbling in swirls of green and yellow" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]<a data-passage="pic8" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings010.jpg" alt="A drawing of a frowning face, possibly a nurses’ face, in shaky green pencil" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]] <a data-passage="pic9" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings016.jpg" alt="Bananas in a fruit bowl drawn in firm green pencil" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]] <a data-passage="pic10" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings020.jpg" alt="the numbers 8.27 written in green pencil" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]
<a data-passage="pic11" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings022_0.jpg" alt="a journal entry: what happened in July? handwritten in green and purple pencil" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]
<a data-passage="pic12" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings022_1.jpg" alt="journal entry 2: wondering what artworks I can conceptualise, handwritten in green and purple pencil" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]
<a data-passage="pic13" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings023.jpg" alt="the letters Aug in green pencil" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]
<a data-passage="pic14" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings024.jpg" alt="the words 10.30 Thurs back by 12.30 in purple" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]
<a data-passage="pic15" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings026.jpg" alt="the words To our darling Anna, so glad you are starting to feel better, we love you very much, Mum and Dad xxx" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]
<a data-passage="pic16" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings030.jpg" alt="the words Dear family and friends, I'm not sure what is happening to me but I love you all very much, love Anna" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]
<a data-passage="pic17" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings031.jpg" alt="a coloured drawing of an embellished heart" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]
<a data-passage="pic18" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings032.jpg" alt="a drawing of two yellow hearts under a yellow rainbow" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]
<a data-passage="pic19" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings033.jpg" alt="a drawing of an animal in a shelter under a flowering tree" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]
<a data-passage="pic20" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings034.jpg" alt="a sunset or dawn watercolour of a sailboat on water" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]
<a data-passage="pic21" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings035.jpg" alt="coloured abstract watercolour markings" />
</a>
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/drawings036.jpg" alt="a woman with long green hair watching a boat in the sea near a desert island" />
return to findings in [[hospital bag]]
Clues and traces of your madness remain on your desktop computer. Displayed on the login screen is an extra profile user called ‘surprise guest’ with a picture of a blue macaw. To the left is an Andy Warhol style profile pic of you holding your French horn, with your name.
<a data-passage="login" class="link-internal link-image"> <img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/me_login2.jpg" alt="a login of your user name plus an Andy Warhol style picture of you holding your French horn" /></a> <a data-passage="surprise guest" class="link-internal link-image"> <img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/surpriseguest.jpg" alt="a login called ‘surprise guest’ with a picture of a blue and yellow Macaw bird" />
</a>
Click on your name [[login]] or click on [[surprise guest]]You type all the passwords you know into the ‘surprise guest’ box but they won’t work. Somehow you know you created the profile. You are the surprise guest. Maybe if you slip into psychosis again you’ll be able to crack the code. Instead you click on the profile user called [[Anna Jacobson]].
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/me_login2.jpg" alt="a login of your user name plus an Andy Warhol style picture of you holding your French horn" />Your curiosity is too much and you click on the [[surprise guest]] profile instead.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/surpriseguest.jpg" alt="a login called ‘surprise guest’ with a picture of a blue and yellow Macaw bird" />It takes you a few different passwords and many minutes of trying. You type up a diary entry in a file you label New Digital Diary 2011, Part 2.
[[that night]]There’s a burglar upstairs. You stay close to your parents for an hour until the burglar leaves. You keep your light on, more infiltrators behind every closed door.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/burg2.jpg" alt="a drawing of burglars with guns and knives behind doors" />
The next day you can’t remember what you've done the previous day. You feel like Drew Barrymore’s character Lucy in the movie '50 First Dates', without the dates.
look at your diary entry from the [[previous day]]//Today I went for a walk and read my get-well cards. I replied to some emails and entered a photo competition//
You don't remember which photo competition you entered, but the get-well cards you'd referred to are propped up for display. The messages from your friends are comforting and you can tell they do not know what is wrong, but that they are here for you whenever you need them. You're glad you haven’t lost contact.
You notice a file called 'Melbourne Diary'.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/melb3.jpg" alt="a drawing of a computer word file" />
[[Open the file]]
Your trip to Melbourne in the months immediately before your hospitalisation remains a mystery to you. You read through your Melbourne diary towards the end of your stay, which although typed is hard to understand. The words don’t trigger memories and makes you feel like you are pushing against a brick wall.
<img src=" http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/melb2.jpg" alt="a drawing of a fortress wall and a girl pushing against the bricks" />
One entry stands out to you.
//'Hands like ice, I haven’t been able to eat or sleep for the last three nights.’//
More clues. More mysteries.
For more of Anna’s writing, poetry and art, visit her website at [[https://www.annajacobson.com.au]]
<img src="http://www.annajacobson.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/howtoknit_title.jpg" alt="A digital collage of a silhouette of a woman’s face, which is made up of knitting in different coloured textured yarns that also have gaps and holes from dropped stitches" />Anna Jacobson