Thursday, April 28, 2005

11# Rolling Waters

I should have woke up the next day feeling great - after all I had made progress the day before and my son had seemed better - but for some reason that Sunday I arose flat - I felt drained and useless - I felt ashamed, but I really didn't want to go back to the hospital - of course, I made myself get ready - and as I showered I cried - but this time they were selfish tears - I wept for myself, for a life that had been torn assunder, all the usual daily tasks thrown to the wind. Some Sunday's I did get up and go to church - most Sunday's I fixed a big meal and spent the day resting and grading papers, preparing for the week ahead - perhaps of all other days of the week it was Sunday that was the most predictable for me - and so I suppose that is why I felt so down -and it was still raining - the downpour had decreased to a drizzle - but that did not nothing to alleviate the gloom outside or in my soul - My mom drove me up again and no doubt noticing my depression she tried to bring me back up - she is the best at bringing a positive viewpoint - at being that light in the dark - but perhaps I needed for one day just to let myself feel miserable for myself, for my changed life and my awareness of a new crushing responsiblity that would descend upon me the day my son walked out of that ward. I tried to put on a false cheery face during the visit so I wouldn't bring my son down and it did seem to work - he was very entranced with the new medicine rispardal and how it made him dream strange dreams - dreams that he couldn't quite seperate from real memory - I suggested that perhaps they should increase the dose again - it seemed somewhat dangerous to not be able to sort out in one's mind what is a dream and what is real. Numb and distant, I managed to get through - I hugged him at the end - almost breaking down - this was so unfair for him - for me - for everyone - why was it that my son was in a psychiatric ward - I must have failed - I held him tight and in my mind whispered "I'm sorry" - In a daze I walked to the car - "No, I didn't want to go in anywhere to eat" On the way home my tears dribbled out like the rain drizzled outside - I didn't have energy for a downpour. The rivers were going down a bit, but were still flooded - as we drove over one - I stared at the rolling, nuddy water and had the strange sensation of falling, of cold water pulling me ever on, drowning my sorrows and pain - so easy it would be - just to let go. For the first time I understood in a way my son's decision that night - some pain is unbearable - it can seem much easier to let life slide away and fall into those drowning, rolling waters. To be cont.

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