Bent But Not Broken (21 page)

Abigail did not answer. She burst into tears, hiding her face with her hands. As I handed her the box of tissues I said, 'You have been very brave today, Abigail. I am proud of you!'

With this she did look up at me. Her vulnerability was so clear. It will take more time before Abigail is able to really believe that she is a worthwhile person – that she does not have to remain the little girl curled up inside a ball of darkness and shame.

Dr. Harry Nightingale

 

 

 

Dear Crystal,

We got another new girl today. We knew something was up because Rachel got moved in with Beth straight after breakfast. I hoped Doctor Harry had talked this over with Beth. We know she has panic attacks. What if Rachel's meds aren't right and she goes crazy again? She told me it is like being trapped in never-ending circle. Just because I don't call her "Mad Rachel" any more doesn't mean she isn't mad. We are all in here because we are bent out of shape. I could tell Suzy was thinking the same thing. We will have to be alert for Beth as well as Jenny. We can't trust the staff to be quick enough to protect them.

The new girl arrived a bit before lunchtime. I instantly felt sorry for her. She couldn't walk. She was in a wheelchair. She was so skinny she was a living skeleton! She was wearing trackies and a hoodie – but they looked like they were on a hanger instead of a person. I couldn't help staring. I tried to stop, because I didn't want to embarrass her. But she was so pitiful! Fortunately she wasn't looking at any of us. She kept her eyes on her shoes. Maybe she knew what effect she was having on us. The orderly introduced her as Natalie. She still did not look up. Jenny went over to her and put Mary Elise Katie Sarah Jess in her lap. With that, Natalie did look up. She smiled at Jenny. It wasn't a good look. It made her look like a demented skull! It was so freaky, I shivered. I wished I was as kind as Jenny. Even though she's young, she seems to know the right thing to do.

For lunch Natalie was wheeled off to the side of the table. The nurse brought out an intravenous stand and hung a bottle of milky fluid. I know we were all watching. Like I have said so often, there's no privacy here. And what would be the point anyway? This ward is its own little world. While I want to get out, I understand that it is a safe place for me right now.

What happened next was one of the most shocking things I have ever seen. The nurse rolled Natalie's sleeve up and hooked the line into a shunt in her elbow. I knew about this because of Kath's disabled foster kids. And I had one in when I woke up in hospital the last time. So it wasn't the shunt that bothered me. Her arm was so thin it was almost transparent – except for the bruising. It seemed to be all over her arm in big purple patches. I wondered if she'd been beaten up. I looked over to Suzy who shook her head. 'Don't ask,' was the silent message.

Natalie wasn't in group in the afternoon, so of course we asked about her. Doctor Harry pulled his usual "I cannot talk about another patient" line, but that didn't stop us. We wanted to know. Strangely, it wasn't Suzy who led the charge.

'What is wrong with her?' Rachel demanded. 'Why can't she walk? Is she disabled?' she peppered him with questions.

Doctor Harry looked like a worm on a hook. 'Good! I thought. He does that all the time to us. Let him feel what it's like when someone is in your face and won't back off!'

It took him ages to sort his thoughts. The silence extended. We all waited, watching him struggle with what to say. Finally he spoke.

'I bet you all know something about eating disorders,' he said as he looked around the circle. We all nodded, even Jenny. 'The most common of these disorders are Anorexia nervosa and Bulimia nervosa,' he went on.

'We call them Ana and Mia,' Rachel said – clearly having appointed herself as our leader in this interaction. I looked at Suzy, to see how she was taking this. What I saw surprised me. Suzy was looking down, a sure sign that she had nothing to say. That's when I got it. Suzy had anorexia and bulimia. That was her ticket into the mad house. Of course she wasn't happy! I wished she would look at me so that I could tell her I was with her. But she continued to stare at the floor.

'Both of these conditions can be life threatening if they are not picked up and treated early,' Doctor Harry went on. That much was bloody obvious. He wasn't telling us anything we didn't know.

'But why do some girls get it and others don't?' Rachel kept the pressure on.

'There is a huge range of contributing factors,' he replied. 'The one that does seem to be universal is low self-esteem,' he added.

'We all have that!' Rachel countered.

'Yes, it's normal to have times where you doubt yourself. Sometimes we feel depressed and anxious,' he said. 'But if these feelings last for more than about two weeks, it could be the start of a problem,' he explained.

I was thinking about that. I know it's normal to have ups and downs. I was trying to remember when I was actually happy. It hit me hard: before George! Since then, I have been miserable. I have hated myself for so long it's almost impossible for me to know when I was happy – since George. I was thinking so much about myself (yeah, so unlike me!) that I think I missed a bit of what was said.

'It is much more common in girls than boys,' I heard Doctor Harry say.

'Why?' from Rachel again.

'When you think about all the marketing that is directed at girls, it makes sense. There is an ideal constantly pushed at girls to be skinny, but shapely in the right places,' he added with a smile. We all giggled. We knew exactly which bits were meant to be "shapely"! I was pleased to see that Suzy had raised her head. It was a signal that she was prepared to be in the discussion.

'What is the problem with an ideal?' Doctor Harry asked us all. We were quiet, trying to work out the answer. We knew that he had something in mind, and was giving us the time to see if we could come up with it.

I was so relieved when Suzy answered! She was back with us! 'An ideal is impossible to achieve. That's why it's an ideal, rather than a reality,' she said with confidence.

'Bang on the money as usual, Suzy!' Doctor Harry beamed at her. 'When you think about it, marketing an impossible ideal is a really clever trick,' he went on.

I was confused. I looked around the circle and saw that the others were too.

'By setting up an ideal that you must strive to achieve, like having the perfect body, you are guaranteed to fail.' He did his round the circle thing to see if we were with him.

'It works so well that some girls get this failure in their head. They are prepared to do whatever it takes to achieve the ideal,' he explained.

Suzy was looking at the floor again. Not good. Why couldn't Doctor Harry see that Suzy wasn't coping? But as usual, he was ahead of me.

'How about we leave it alone for a while?' he asked. 'We can talk about more in the next few days if you want,' he added, as he circled the group with his eyes. 'I want to ask a favour from you all,' he said. Now that was different! There was a shuffling as we all sat up straighter in our chairs. 'Natalie will need a lot of rest so that she can recuperate,' he said. 'That is why she is in room 101. If you want to talk with her you can, but please check with the nurses first,' he finished.

This was really weird! It's rule six thousand and something that we are not allowed in each other's rooms. She must be really sick for him to give us permission to sit with her.

Later I asked Suzy if she was okay. She had been quiet and withdrawn all afternoon. I was worried about her. I wanted to let her know that I felt her discomfort. I wanted to tell her that I was her friend, and was there for her. What she said scared me deeply.

'That could have been me,' she whispered in the dark.

Love,

Abigail

 

 

CASE FILE #2794 ABIGAIL LEE MANUS D.O.B. 02/04/1998

ENTRY 48: 13/06/2014

Yesterday's session was intense and I did not want to push Abigail too hard today. But she had other ideas, as usual.

'I have thought about what we did with the chair thing,' she opened. 'I want to do it again!'

'Okay,' was all I said as I got the upright chairs into position. She immediately sat on "her" chair.

'I get why you can't believe me,' she addressed the other chair. 'But you should have put me first! I am your daughter and it is your job to protect me!' she stated emphatically.

Without input from me, she got up and sat in the other chair. It was fascinating to watch her take such control.

'I know that now, Abigail. But I couldn't then,' she answered herself. 'I am so sorry!'

With this, Abigail seemed to crumple. I was afraid she was going to fall off the chair. After a moment, she straightened and looked at me.

'Do you think she really is sorry? Or is it just that I want to think that she is?' Abigail asked in her small, hurt voice.

'What do you think, Abigail?' I asked.

Without a word she got up and returned to her armchair. She sat in silence for some minutes. I waited. I did not move the upright chairs. I did not want to do anything that would break her line of thought.

Finally she broke her contemplative silence. 'I think she is sorry,' she said thoughtfully.

'From all that you have told me, Abigail, you had a loving and protective mother in your early life. George ruined that. Not your mother. She was blinded by his charm. I think you know that now,' I said.

'Yeah, I guess I do,' she said, so sadly.

'I think one of the hardest things a young adult can face is that their parent is fallible Abigail,' I said.

'Are you saying that you think she was wrong?' she asked.

'I can't judge your mother like that,' I answered. 'But I can see that you believe she failed to protect you,' I added.

'What you are really saying is that I have to forgive her, isn't it?' Abigail asked.

I did not answer this question. Abigail has to take that leap of faith. I only hope that the relationship Abigail with her mother forged in her early years proves strong enough to survive the destruction George brought down upon them all.

This has been such an intense and difficult time for Abigail. I signaled a quiet reading period by simply picking up my book. We finished the session with both of us silently reading.

Dr. Harry Nightingale

 

 

 

Dear Crystal,

It's been another slow weekend in the nuthouse. Raining all weekend did nothing to help the mood. Jenny had her usual family visit, but didn't come back as distressed as last week. She and Beth spent a lot of time huddled together. I left them to it. I figured Jenny was in good hands.

Suzy, Rachel and I were hanging out playing chess. They must be getting Rachel's meds right, because she didn't flip her shit at all during the weekend. And she plays a mean game of chess! We were talking while we were playing. I complimented Rachel on whopping Suzy – who plays a strong game – when Rachel made a comment that knocked me over!

'Most schizophrenics are in the highest intelligence group,' she said. 'They don't know why it happens. It could be just one kid in a family. But being smart is no protection,' she finished sadly.

What could we say to cheer her up? Get over it? Tough luck? Life sucks? I'm sure all these stupid things she would have already said to herself. Maybe they've even been said by numbnuts out there. I wondered if she could only be truly herself when she's in a loony bin. Here she's cared for and has no pressure to be "normal." Dunno. I worry that I'm getting so used to being here that I won't be able to cope when I get out. Like I said – too much time to think!

After a while we were sick of playing chess, and got a jigsaw out. I smiled as we came across bits that had been chewed. I hoped that Kayla was doing okay. I think I'll ask Doctor Harry if I can write to her. I reckon that's why they don't let us have computers in here. Writing takes up some of the empty time. And writing to you helps me work things out in my head. I guess it's because it's slower than chatting on Facebook. With letters you really have to think things before you write them.

I was lost in my thoughts when I realised that Suzy was gone. When she didn't come back for ages I went looking for her. Not hard, with no doors. She wasn't in the toilets or our room. She couldn't be outside, because it was pouring. I went down the corridor, checking the bedrooms. That's where I found her. She was sitting beside Natalie, holding her hand and talking quietly. I backed away. I don't think Suzy saw me. Which was just as well. I was overwhelmed with jealousy! Suzy is my friend! I am not willing to share her with Natalie or anyone else! I was hurt and angry. I felt like she had chosen Natalie over me.

At bedtime on Saturday I didn't speak to Suzy. I was too pissed off. By Sunday I'd cooled off a bit, but I couldn't work out how to start to tell Suzy how I was feeling. So I hardly talked to her at all. I knew she was confused by my distance. How could I tell her I was jealous? It was so stupid and childish! She didn't know what was wrong, and I couldn't tell her. A gap had opened between us that I couldn't bridge.

Not my best weekend.

Love,

Abigail

 

 

CASE FILE #2794 ABIGAIL LEE MANUS D.O.B. 02/04/1998

ENTRY 49: 16/06/2014

Instead of entering the library with Abigail today, I led her into the family room.

'What's this?' she asked with curiosity.

'It's the room where patients can have time with their family members,' I answered.

Abigail looked around with interest. She saw the comfortable armchairs clustered around coffee tables. The large windows bathed the room with natural light. The view into the established gardens is beautiful. I opened the French doors – which caused Abigail to look at me quizzically.

'Yes, when it's a nice day the patients can sit outside with their relatives,' I answered her unasked question.

'Aren't you afraid I'll make a mad dash for freedom?' she laughed.

'Which bit should I listen to, Abigail? Mad or dash?' I laughed with her.