I will be forever grateful that D called N and they conspired to take me to emergency. Without their intervention, I would be dead.
I went along willingly enough when they told me they were taking me for a little ride, and I cried the entire time. Like a lost child I let them hustle me into the waiting room where the nurses immediately hustled me into that little green room with the fish-eye in the door. I sat and cried while N and D patted my hands and knees or hugged me hard. The hugging made me cry harder and somewhere deep inside I knew I was out of control but I simply could not stop.
I barely noticed when the doctor arrived, except for the fact there was another person in this small smelly room and he was staring at me. He stared at me for so long that I started to ignore him and concentrated instead on my crying. It was just easier to do. D interrupted my reveries and caught my attention when the doctor wanted to ask me questions, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying. He was of Egyptian descent and his accent confused me in my watery state. I constantly turned to D for his interpretation of what was being said, only to slide back into my own little world and my tears. The effort was just too much.
When I was asked to bare a hip so they could sedate me, I didn’t care. N and D made room on the couch for me to lay down on as I slowly gave way to the sedation and my sobs turned into little whimpers. When they arrived with a wheelchair to take me away, I didn’t care. The sedation helped me slip away, and by the time we arrived at the psyche ward, I was almost to the point where I tipped over the edge of the world and into the unknown. I remember N and D wiping their eyes as they said their goodbyes, and I wondered who was causing their tears. I believe that by the time they reached the locking doors of the ward, I had already forgotten them and myself.
Even though this happened back in 1998, it is still an incredibly hard memory to revisit and relive, and this is all I can do for today.
20 comments:
This is such a distressing tale dear friend. Can I offer you a stiff drink and a long hug?
Aims I am so glad I am reading this is the knowledge that you are healthy and well now. :)
Take it slow. These days I sometimes have to sneak up on things I don't want to do - do a bit and then walk away before it stresses me, then try to forget about it until I feel capable again and then dive in and do a bit more.
Daft but it's my way of coping!
Now they've decided to link depression to Alzheimer's, just what I need, I thought my memory loss was just having too much in there :-D
You take your time girl. The last thing you want is put yourself under so much pressure you risk going back there.
Easy does it. Softly softly catchy monkey.
Love and hugs for you.
How good you had them but how hard for you and them.
I am glad you had them to take you to get help, and I am glad you've obviously made it through such a terrible time. Take your time with the story. It'll come as it can, and no one is going to push for more.
You are very brave, Aims. Thank you for sharing this much already. You are doing a terrific job!
Another good post. I had one day in my life when the crying wouldn't stop and I slept and cried. It is like one grain of sand in an hour glass compared to what you experienced, but yet it is of the same substance so not totally foreign. You do such a great job of writing, to bring the reader to that place of understanding.
You are very brave to write about it, I will never forget the day that my sister took me to the doctors after a night lying in her bed when I finally cried after so long of silence, but I couldn't write about it. We were both very lucky to have people there that cared about us, but I think that your run in with it was worse than mine, and if I find that hard, I can't imagine what this must be like for you. Take your time, we will all wait for you, and appreciate each precious titbit as we get to read it.
{{{{hugs}}}} I know this is hard for you to share, but it's important. Mental illness is so misunderstood. My own daughter suffers from bipolar disorder and borderline personality disorder. It's been hard to be her mom, but part of what makes it difficult is the stigma that still exists in society. As soon as people realize that it can happen to anyone and is an illness, the stigma will begin to fade.
Peace - D
Aims, you take me to places I've never been and never wish to go but who can say never?
Once again I'm awed by the clarity of your writing. Take your time. This is obviously incredibly hard to write about. There's no rush.
You did it then. You made a start on this part of the story and did it reat justice. Deep breath and on with the next part. Evokative stuff and I hope I never find myself where you were. There but for the grace of God eh?
Take your time. It's your story and you can tell it anyway you want...I will keep coming back.
You are an inspiration :)
My Darling Friend, please forgive this intrusion … but knowing your compassionate Heart, I am compelled to send this to you. Please read it, and follow your Heart’s leading. I have unwavering trust in that. I Love You, Your Servant, John-Michael
Oh my darlings, you sure know how to make a girl cry. I have just come home briefly to check in, there are too many messages to answer but I appreciate each and everyone one of then so very much.
Unfortunately, I have been given a bit of a bum steer in terms of Jack being able to stay in Hospice with me. That is actually not the case, apart from a night here and there, so the woman that told me it was possible has really got a lot to answer for as I pinned all my hopes on this. Anyway, Jacks Dad came down and can stay at my place this week at least but that's it. After that who knows and yet they are saying I need to be in Hospice for a lot longer yet.
The pain last night, defied description I have never felt such pain in my life including child birth, I was a sobbing mess, eventually they had to knock me out and I finally got some rest. Anyway they are comparing scans and trying very hard to work out what is best to do. I know I desperately need chemo, the longer I go without it, the bigger the tumour is growing and pressing further on the nerves. So now not only do I have megga pain that is not responding to treatment, I have a child not welcome at Hospice and my life is completely screwed.
I spent the night in tears and most of the day too, I don't have think I have any left but who knows, I will let you know how tonight goes. I am a broken woman.
There is talk about Jack having to move up with David to Warragul and change schools and everything. I said NO WAY I am not giving him up when I am not ready to die and I am not giving him up twice. I will work something out. There is no way he needs to go to another school, he needs the security of his local school here and his friends and having close contact with me.
Anyway my friends, it is a lot to contemplate tonight, I will do my best and I will not be letting my son go away from me no matter what. Please keep praying and sending me your love and care, I need you all so desperately right now. I hate to have to go, but I must leave now to go back to Hospice as they need to medicate me there, it is too dangerous to be on the medication I need to be on at home.
I will be thinking of you and I will post again either tomorrow or the next day, I promise.
Love to you all, my heart is full of you love and hugs to each and every one of you. Xxxx
posted by Jen Ballantyne at 18:40 on 9/04/2008
I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to relive such a thing.
Keep on keepin' on. At the pace that feels right, deep down where it counts.
Hello, dear aims: Thank you for coming to see me today. Your story touches many places in me. I had a physical illness (still recovering-slowgo) beginning last spring. So it's been about a year now. Many dollars and much suffering later, I am finally moving back up. Part of the illness included depression which I never, ever want to experience again. Thank God for today. I'm so glad you made it through to the other side!
Donnetta
My mother has had a few 'mental relapses' over the years. The last one was about 3 years ago. She had to be coaxed to eat and drink. She wouldn't speak, didn't want to wash and was afraid to go out. She was also afraid to stay in, when my father had to go out shopping etc. After months of not wanting to speak to me, or anyone else, she suddenly agreed to speak to me on the telephone and said that she couldn't go on any more.
Eventually, a psychiatrist prescribed some miracle tablets and she is now functioning normally, but still 'taking the tablets'. It was as if she was locked into the experience and the rest of us were locked out. I can't pretend to imagine how she must have felt and I read about your experiences with immense interest and sympathy. All she can ever tell me about how she her experiences is that she 'felt weird'.
Sorry about my last sentence. It should have read 'All she can ever tell me about her experiences is that she 'felt weird'.
Dearest Readers -
Just writing these posts is so difficult that I am finding it very hard to answer your wonderful comments and revelations.
Keep putting them down here!
Let us roar our anguish to the sky so that everyone can see a change needs to be made!!
Tell anyone you know who suffers - even a little - to come and read this so that they too can have a say!!
If you can't say it here - then email me please. I do understand how upsetting this is...to write it - and to read it!
I've known several people in similar situations. You're brave to write about it.
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