Links to previous autobiographical threads are here and here.
Crashing back
My surroundings which had previously been stark, dark, highlighted in various shades of grey were suddenly raging with blaring colour. The world spun faster, voices grew louder until their shrill notes seemed to braid together and burst into my brain, melted grey matter to mud. I hovered on the periphery of the action, hand resting lightly on my stomach knowing that within the walls of the organ poisonous pills were slowly dissolving; drip, drip dripping death into my veins with every molecule absorbed. Through glazed eyes I watched flashes of action as an ambulance was called, clothes were found and panic mounted with every minute.
I continued to sit, dumb and desolate as the large vehicle arrived, frantic questions were thumped into my ears and decision were made about me, without me. I had a brief moment’s relief in which the ambulance crew seemed to be leaving without me but then moments later they were back in their glaring neon coats, hustling me into the clean white room in the back of the transport. My parents quickly joined me, pressing close for moral support, making me feel queasy and claustrophobic. I remained strangely separate despite the proximity of parents and staff alike, grateful for once for the granite thick glass wall that my melancholy moods built between myself and the world. Minutes, hours, years later we arrived at the hospital, walking through the glass doors slowly as though heading for execution.
Seating ourselves on the hard plastic seats designed so that no one would ever feel comfortable enough in this building to want to stay we waited, reacting only when yet another series of nurses or doctors poked and prodded at me. Numb as I was I barely flinched as needles pushed through flesh to tug and tear at my veins.
Hours later I gazed blankly up at the doctor who finally announced I had the all clear, that I would be just fine. At this all faces turned to me, expectant. I wondered as I returned their focused looks how nobody in that room, nobody seemed to realise that with regards to whether I would live or die I could not care less. I had saved myself to save others. My job was done, and if my body and the poisons I had filled it with chose to cave in regardless of my actions, well then maybe there was a God, and He was smiling on me that night.
Last edited by Buttons. : 28-06-2010 at 07:05 PM.
'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
You can buy me with a coffee,I'm so cheap. Got bitten fingernails&a head full of past;Got a broken heart&your name on my cast.
&&I wanted her to tell me that she will never wake me.
“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.”
Sarah: Give me the child.
Jareth: Sarah beware. I have been generous up till now. I can be cruel.
Sarah: Generous? What have you done that's generous?
Jareth: Everything! Everything you have wanted I have done. You asked the child be taken, I took him. You cowered before me, I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me. Isn't that generous?
God was not smiling. As I curled up on a cold hospital bed in a cold clinical room I realised that I was well and truly trapped in life now. My secret suicidal thoughts were out for all to see and my God that scared me. I glanced over at my parents; Dad, head nodding as he fought his sleeping tablets and moaning every now and again about the lack of coffee, Mum, dark shadows encircling eyes glistening with maternal pain.
Hour after hour crawled by at snail pace, boredom and tiredness beginning to eclipse the raw pain of the actions that I had taken. My parents came and went, leaving in search of coffee and food and, I suspected, relief from the tension surrounding having a suicidal daughter. Once they had left I glanced around the little room, taking in the straight back chairs, the small varnished wooden table and the curtained windows.
Eventually my eyes lit upon a small television and video player. Sliding off my bed I investigated, finding a pile of old Disney films on the shelf below the television. I hesitated, stroking my fingers over the case. I was desperate to escape into childhood once more but unsure whether or not it was allowed or even appropriate to put on a video and immerse myself when I had caused so much pain and worry.
The yearning to return to the comfortable happy memories that the videos encompassed grew moment by moment. Eventually almost of their own accord I found my bony hands pushing the video for Lady and the Tramp into the VCR. I pressed play and settled in to watch.
Within moments I was totally absorbed, feeling as though I were five years old again. I lost myself in a world where animals talked, the bad guys never won and there was always a happy ending. As I watched I reached up to push a strand of hair from my eyes and found my cheeks salty and wet with unchecked tears. Curiously I wiped them away, wondering when I had become so used to the ache of grief that I no longer noticed the tears I cried.
'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.”
‘Katy?’ I broke through my grief to respond to the world around me, with more than a little hesitation. ‘Yes?’
Have you ever attempted to harm yourself before?’ The question posed made me smile In a sickly fashion. Had I ever tried to harm myself? I pulled up my sleeves exhibiting a variety of bright raised scars and fresh scabbing cuts, blueing bruises. ‘Yes,’ I said without necessity. ‘Yes I’ve harmed myself before…'
'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.”
“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.”
