Mental Health Monologue

The fate of my family took a turn for the worst in 1961. Today, there are 59 of my family

members still being held captive around the world. In the time between that, most of my family

has died in the prisons, enduring cramped spaces, degenerate living conditions, and extensive

tolls on our mental health, it’s no wonder the prison is under attack by the media. We have been

used to “educate and entertain” the public, however little does the public know what goes on when they go to their own homes. Here I will give you some insight to my daily routine, status on my physical and mental health, and how you may be able to help me while I serve my lifelong sentence here at Seaworld. My tank is comparable to the size of a human bathtub. The water is so filtrated

It’s always so

noisy, my highly sensitive ears have been hearing the filtration pumps since the day I was born,

and my eyes are burning due to the chlorine.

Living on a diet solely of frozen fish tossed at me throughout the day, I’d rather not eat

at all if I have to perform tricks to eat. I’m supposed to be the top hunter in the wild, swimming

in a pod. Instead, I’m confined here, resorting to swimming in circles to fill the mental urgency to swim long and far.

I can’t remember my mother. Led alone my father, since I am a product of inbreeding,

which would explain a lot of my health issues. When I was about 6 months old, we were

separated, since I no longer needed her to nurse me. Since then, my vocal chords have grown so

tired from the yearning calls for my mother. Everyday, I feel like I lose a piece of myself

without her. Everyday is a disoriented one, despite the fact this endless routine has been my life.

Motherless, essentially friendless, and somehow still surviving this lifeless life.

The seemingly endless performances start at 9:30. I still don’t see how me jumping