WHAT ARE YOU, NUTS? (or: One of Those People)

(c) Dominique Millette, 2000

Condensation of play by earhart

(Editor's Note: This play was written by a bipolar woman's reaction to media showing mental illness in a most unflattering way. Also, this one-act bipolar moment is notintended to reflect on all people with mental illness, nor is it intended to frighten others. It is one woman's interpretation of stigma and its destructiveness.)

What Are You, Nuts? (or: One of Those People)

SETTING: A woman. A chair. A spotlight. An attitude. (Kinda)

(Starts like a CEO doing an infomercial. Starts sitting up, then gets up and walks).

Hi. I'm one of those people. You know--the crazy people you read about in the papers? Except for one thing: see, I've never been in the papers. Well, that's not exactly true. I did get a mention in the Cobourgh Star when I was ten and I won the local spelling bee.

Aside from that, I guess my life isn't all that spectacular. For instance, I haven't shot anyone. I don't live on the street. Close, but not exactly. I live in a basement out at Wilson and Bathurst. The walls are grey. So is the carpet. The fixtures are cracked. It's cold and damp. But it's home.

(Sarcastic). What--do I sound "normal"? Almost? Sorry about that. I'd hate to disappoint you. I know: plays are supposed to have a lot of action or something. Keep things moving!

(Woman kicks in the air, does karate-like motions).

Ya! Ya! Take that, you lousy dad, you! You creepy ex-husband! (Stops, turns towards the audience). I guess I want to do that sometimes. Kick my problems away.

(Paces). Yeah, I've got problems. Good days and bad days. Like other people. Only in my case, they're bigger, generally speaking. See when you're officially "crazy"--nuts, bonkers, schizo, a headcase, whatever!--it tends to mess up your whole perspective on just about everything.

(Sits down again, thoughtful).

I mean think about it. How do you know which end is up! How do you decide anything? (Almost shouting). How do you trust yourself?

Because you know one thing: no one else is going to trust you either. No matter what's going on!

(Does a squiggly motion with her hands and a gling-gling sound, like one of those corny scenes in TV sitcoms where people are imagining something or having a dream.)

(Assumes stuffy basso male voice).

Aaaah, sorry, Ms. Winters, but there is no problem here. No one else has a problem. I'm afraid you're the problem.

(New voice, this time nasal, whining). What are you so upset about? I guess you're just getting paranoid. Why don't you

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