I sit there quietly, thinking about the past – emotionless and unreachable – snap of the fingers – no response – an empty vessel. I am some where else…thinking
. If I had gone out that night when I stayed in. If I had turned left at that point in life instead of turning right.
My failure to get to the telephone in time – the telephone call that I didn’t want to receive.
But if I had done that, you know, turned right when I turned left – would I still be sat here in front of you?
Would I still be so angry at such a lot of painful things I had faced , or would I sit here thinking that I have indeed been the lucky one…….others have endured so much more pain and heartache – but then have been strong enough to carry on.
I am made aware that it is time for medication – in tablet form.
The effects are swift, I feel so relaxed, so free, so at home.
But I have always been at home, there has been no where else for a long time – days, months, years.
I am in a room, in a block, in a mental health unit – a hospital – somewhere very clinical.
Then I awake – in my own bed – not anywhere else. I stop, try to think, try to work out the best way to approach and deal with this day.