Monday, May 02, 2005

12# Shattered Glass

Morning brought a new prospective - I felt my energy creeping back and I was able to at least plan for the day. After work my daughter was going to drive me up to the hospital and until then I tried to concentrate on getting prepared for class - I had been sleepwalking through my classes the week before so I felt that I had better get my act together. Then the phone call came in - it was my son, obviously tremendously agitated - "mom, get my out of here - right now - I mean it - I'm not going to any more of their stupid group sessions" - I attempted to calm him down - "it will only be for a bit longer - the more you cooperate the faster you will get out - remember you are there to get help." His voice rose in decibal "help - this place isn't helping me - it is making me crazy - mom, please come get me!" By now I had started crying, but I didn't want him to know "I can't do that son, you must stay till they say you are better" - then he really lost it "you won't get me out of here - well then I'll find a way to kill myself - I'll throw myself out the window - I'll smother myself with the pillow" Something about this hit me like a full slap to the face - I geuss I had a lot of anger, as well as sadness in me and it came bursting out, cascading down into the phone and across the miles - it was boiling water, rolling and frothing "you're not the only one who could kill themselves and I have many more implements here" - it was out before I could take it back - why did I say that - why was it up to me to deal with this - I gripped the phone till my hand hurt - he hung up and I sat there in a fit I can't adequately describe - it all felt so unfair - why? why? I sobbed - I had the terrible desire to grab a bat and break every window out of the house howling out the pain and the anguish - if I couldn't break something I was sure I would break - instead I sat alone racked with sobs, pouring out my fury in sound instead of action - I finally relaxed my death grip on the phone and hung it up - immediately it rang "mom, I'm sorry - could you bring up my acne medicine and Arby's" - I got out ok and he hung up - I was left shaking and weak - drained of the anger, but also all energy and will - it didn't make sense "how could someone say they were going to kill themselves and then the next minute be worried about their acne and food - I myself felt that I would not ever want to eat again - and I knew that somehow I had to drag myself up and go to class. To be cont.

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