It’s good to be home again. Those who know me are no doubt aware that I just spent five days in Broughton State Hospital for “evaluation”. You’ve all been talking about it, I know. There have been a lot of rumors floating about. Which is understandable, I guess, given my past (hey, I’m trying not to call you guys assholes – I really am). Rest assured that I am not crazy. In fact, my lawyers are looking into this case with some interest. Mostly because I’m not really crazy. I’m just eccentric. Make a note.

I want to set the record straight about what happened, though I’m kicking myself for feeling like I need to explain it to you. I don’t need your validation. Let’s just be clear on that, okay?

Anyway, on Beltane I was with friends at a celebration that had carried over from April 30th. We left the location late Saturday night, on the 1st, and discovered that the Buncombe County Sheriff’s department had decided that all those Pagans wandering about was generally a bad idea – you know, drinkin’ and fornicatin’ and all that. So we got pulled over not far from the farm. Long story short, I got into a scuffle with a deputy who got a little too friendly while searching me, and I wound up in the back of a police car with a busted lip and a bloody nose.

This is where it gets weird…

Because of the scuffle, I was bleeding (busted lip and bloody nose – like I said), so they took me to the hospital, where more drama ensued (mostly yelling and cursing – don’t get ahead of me). Yes, I had been drinking, but the rumors that I was drunk are just wrong. The cops told me I was going to be arrested for drunk and disorderly, assault on an officer, and a number of other things they’d dreamed up. I’m still not sure which of those charges I’ll be answering for.

Anyway, it got worse at the hospital. A nurse with a cross around her neck and a chip on her shoulder took exception to the pentacle around my neck and my general heathen-ness, and took delight in cataloging the scars on my wrists as she patched me up. The next thing I know, in the wee hours of Sunday morning, after apparently conferring with the Sheriff’s Department and deciding that I was a danger to myself, the emergency-room physician made arrangements for an involuntary commitment to Broughton State Hospital for evaluation (for me – if you missed that).

I won’t bore you with details about my Broughton adventures right now. I’ll probably write about my unexpected vacation later. Right now I’m tired and this is weighing upon me. I thought maybe if I could get this out of me I could get some sleep, and wouldn’t lie in bed clenching my teeth. I had a lot of interesting conversations with the head-shrink voodoo doctors at Broughton about my apparently dis-associative world-view and “occult activities”, which will make for some interesting writing, but in the end they really had nothing to hold me on. As much as a few people might’ve wanted to paint me as a crazy bitch, I had too many lucid arguments for their bullshit.

Luckily, though, a friend got word to Uncle, who arranged for my release. I don’t care to think about how that might’ve gone had I not had Uncle. I finally got out on the 7th, and spent a few days with Uncle in D.C. But there are legal issues to consider here, and I need to be back here in North Carolina. But honestly, as much as I love Asheville, I’m beginning to wonder if it might be time to move on. I’m so tired of the Evangelicals and the Rednecks. Isn’t there somewhere in this country I can go where this kind of shit doesn’t happen? Somewhere in the world?

Anyway, I’m back. To all the people who’ve been saying that I’d finally flipped, I’d like to offer up a hearty “Fuck you”. To all those who were concerned about my safety (and especially those who spent two days trying to find out were they’d taken me), I extend my warmest regards and thanks. And to those who have offered legal advice and counsel, I’d just like to say that this fight is far from over. Although, as Uncle pointed out, there’s not a lot I’m going to be able to do to fight against the Good-Ol’-Boy network that represents law enforcement in Buncombe County. Not with my past.

Still, while I breathe, I will defy. It’s in the handbook.