Hurray I can use my n's again!! NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN and did you lot realise it took me 2 and a bit pages to get through of your moaning to find my last installement on this thread? Pfft! Anyway, as promised *drum roll* :
That day I spiralled. The fact that even in here, surrounded by individuals I had allowed myself to care about and to an extent trust, people were still so inclined to believe me a liar, brought back all kinds of horrible memories of the aftermath of my abuse disclosure. I had felt guilty then, that I would be upsetting my family, especially my Aunty Ruth, his wife. I never for one moment considered that they wouldn’t believe me, that it wouldn’t be sadness and sympathy they would feel, but anger, disbelief and scepticism. At thirteen years old I watched as my uncle denied again and again what he had done, I was blamed by my aunty for the fact that he was arrested and would have to go to court, that he might lose his precious job. I watched my extended family, one by one, turn away from me. Sat in front of my grandma, my hero, begging her, screaming at her to say she believed me. Those words were never spoken. At thirteen I learnt not to trust anybody. Even family. Especially family. Blood burns deeper than water.
Blinded by the pain in my head, I searched the unit until I found Joseph. I asked him to open my window for me, telling him I wanted to run away. He raised his eyebrows at me and asked if I was likely to jump. I shrugged. He returned the gesture. “Well it’s your choice either way,” he said as he battered the window open fully. He left the room. I whispered “Goodbye,” as he left.
Darkness was beginning to fall, indicating the changeover from day staff to night staff. They would, for the most part, be busy in the changeover meeting, so it was an ideal time to do as I planned. I intended to jump, and if by some unfortunate twist of fate I lived, to run or crawl away and find some other means of engineering my own death. I calculated angles of the jump that would make me more likely to land on my head, snapping my neck and killing me.
I read through the old suicide notes to check they were still valid and said everything I wanted them to say. I resisted the urge write one to Alice. It would have been more for my benefit than hers, and would have upset her deeply. Breathing slowly, I left my diary on the bed, crossed the room and locked my bedroom door. I knew the staff could open it if they wished, but it should delay them for five minutes, ten if I was lucky, whilst they knocked and waited and eventually had to find the right key to open the door. I toyed with the idea of trying to move my desk in front of the door, but rejected the idea on the basis that with my limited strength and the heavy weight of the wood, it would waste time between observations and would probably make one heck of a lot of noise.
Pushing the tears stinging my eyes back, I hopped onto the window ledge, took one last look around my room and crawled out just outside my window, onto the roof. I froze, captivated by the light of the traffic, the bluish tinge to the night, the sound and smell of the bordering trees. All those living, breathing experiences that I would never have again. Tears coursed down my cheeks as I crouched, poised, willing my frozen limbs to move, to propel me over the edge. They wouldn’t move; I was trapped like a rabbit in the headlights. Again and again I tried to force my body to move, but nothing was obeying my commands.
I heard a knock outside my door and my heart beat faster, panic rising. I needed to jump, Now. Or at least get off the roof close the window, and try again another time. I couldn’t take either course of action. I was trapped in my own fear and ambivalence. There was another knock, then Tilly one of the night nurses called out my name. I couldn’t respond, it felt as though time itself had stopped dead. I heard another knock then the sound of keys jingling. I tried again to force myself into movement, but nothing budged. I heard the key turn in the lock, and Tilly call for Mick (another nurse) to come in with her. I listened as the door opened but I couldn’t move my muscles enough even to turn my head. “Oh God,” muttered Mick.
The pair of them approached slowly, Tilly speaking gently “Katy you need to come in from there and step down from the sill, ok?” Frozen as I was I was unable to respond. Both of the nurses stepped to my immediate right by my bed, sliding into my line of vision. They were both concentrating hard, obviously eyeing up the situation. Again Tilly reiterated that I needed to come inside but I remained where I was, completely still.
Gently and carefully Tilly lifted her arm to try and hook it around me to encourage me inside, and suddenly, like a jolt of electricity, my body came to life. I still don’t know what happened inside my head at that moment. Still disorientated and half in reality, half entrenched in memory, I can only think that I perceived the contact as an attack or a threat. “No!” I shouted with vehemence and lurched forward to push myself off the roof.
Mick reacted quicker than I would have thought possible. He grabbed round my waist and ignoring my struggling and protests, hoisted me by back through the window.
I fell onto my bed and was screaming and crying with rage at my foiled attempt and abject terror at a man’s unwanted touch. I fled to the wall and cracked my head, completely and utterly out of control and unaware of any social rules surrounding self destructing in front of people. Mick left, realising his presence and touch had been a catalyst to the chaos, and left me alone with Tilly, who tried to soothe me, and hold me so that I couldn’t bang my head.
Eventually I collapsed, head to my knees, sobbing so hard I couldn’t see straight, mind spinning from stress and the bangs on the wall. Tilly went over to lock my window and asked if I wanted to talk. I shouted and swore at her in response, told her to get the **** out of my room. Surprisingly to me she left, though it was clear I was in no state to be in control of my own actions. Fortunately I remained too deep in my distress to do any damage and simply remained in a sodden sobbing heap, left alone with flashbacks so strong I had to jam my fist in my mouth so as not to scream out loud.
That night even now remains one of the worst in my memory, and how I got through it in the state I was in is anybody’s guess. That night the emotional pain was at such an intensity I genuinely believed I would die with the agony of it. I cried and cried, unrelentingly, unable to respond to anyone who came into my room to check I was still alive and kicking. Finally I fell into an exhausted and troubled sleep early the next morning and awoke, every fibre of my body aching, unable to quite believe that I had survived the night, and at that, relatively unscathed.
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.’ – Oscar Wilde
‘It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back.’ Sydney Carter
“The good things don’t always soften the bad, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.”
“Nobody important? Blimey, that’s amazing. Do you know, in nine hundred years of time and space I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important before.”
“If it’s time to go, remember what you’re leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.”
StillBroken is my cool lil sis!!! - surprising mystery is my uber-cool monkey!!!zowie is my lil sis !!!!- LetDeathEmbraceUs is my Wolfie !!!
BrokenKisses is my DizzyCandyFloss !!! rachel487 is my lil sis !!! nuttergirl is my kool neice !!! CrazyKat is my book buddie !!!
NO MATTER HOW BAD YOU FEEL - ONE NICE PM TO SOMEONE NEW A DAY HELPS!!! TRY IT!!!
More tomorrow when I can be arsed putting it up because my computer is still being a bit daft so it requires a detailed multiple copying and pasting process that takes forever.
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.’ – Oscar Wilde
‘It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back.’ Sydney Carter
awww - silly computer - am looking forward to your update - Thanks huni - hugs for being great!!!
StillBroken is my cool lil sis!!! - surprising mystery is my uber-cool monkey!!!zowie is my lil sis !!!!- LetDeathEmbraceUs is my Wolfie !!!
BrokenKisses is my DizzyCandyFloss !!! rachel487 is my lil sis !!! nuttergirl is my kool neice !!! CrazyKat is my book buddie !!!
NO MATTER HOW BAD YOU FEEL - ONE NICE PM TO SOMEONE NEW A DAY HELPS!!! TRY IT!!!
and did you lot realise it took me 2 and a bit pages to get through of your moaning to find my last installement on this thread? Pfft! Anyway, as promised *drum roll* :
