WEP October Challenge - The Scream

 

The WEP Challenge is back.  Huge thanks to the organisers and participants.  A visit HERE will give access to a range of talented (so very talented) and different takes on the theme.  I do hope you will visit others and applaud them.  Names will be added over the next couple of days and a revisit is always worthwhile.

 

I have been absent from WEP for a while but have rejoined for this challenge.  Due warning, my story is dark. 

 

 

Un…

 

The farmhouse they rented was isolated.  It was also both shabby and spartan.  No phone, she had no transport and the nearest town was five miles away.

He was away for work.  Again. 

He was due home in another ten days.

She was alone.  Again.  Still. 

High summer, and outside it was blisteringly hot, dry and cloudless.  Water was at a premium and the house tanks were all but dry.  If she was to wash herself or her clothes she had to travel. She could have walked into town and caught the train to do the washing and to see friends.

She didn’t.

It was quiet at home;  baaing sheep, bird song and, twice daily, a train chuffing through, its whistle echoing across the empty paddocks.

Her earworm was louder and more intrusive than those sounds.

 

‘It's already over in my head
It's been cloudy with a chance of anxiety
Can't keep out the demons inside of me
Maybe I'm just better off dead’

She hated the song, most of which had no relevance to her or her situation.  Just the same ‘better off dead’ set the metronome to her days.  Its regular hard hitting beat was always there.  Only the volume changed.  Sometimes it was a murmur and at other times a scream.

She was unEmployed, unHappy and unNecessary.

Oh hell, let’s not beat about the bush.  She was me.

Drowning in and beaten down by that earworm I walked into town and was lucky enough to get an immediate appointment to see a doctor.

Lucky?  UnLucky. 

 

He was dismissive.  UnKind. UnHelpful.  'Snap out of it!' was the best he could offer.  When pushed he said he could refer me to a psychologist where there was at least a three month waiting list.  Cursing the wasted expenditure of money I didn’t have and couldn’t spare I walked home again to an empty and unWelcoming house. 

Maybe I'm just better off dead

Essential tasks called.  I fed the chooks, fed the cats and faced my empty days. Continuing to exist like this was unAcceptable.

Maybe I'm just better off dead

A solution was close to hand.  Twice daily (at midnight and at midday) the train ran through the bottom paddock.  It came round a bend and if I lay down on the tracks the driver would be unable to brake in time.  A short walk (less than half a mile) and my despair and pain would be over.  The midnight train would probably be best.

I thought about it.  I thought some more.  It would work.  I felt for the train driver, but the trains ran over other animals quite frequently.

Timing.  The animals at home needed my attention.  It would be unFair if my solution caused them to suffer.  Nine days left now.

Finding a solution, a solution that meant I would no longer be a burden to myself or anyone else was wonderful (the world would not miss me).  Calming.  Comforting.  Freeing.  My mind (despite that chant) was less despairing than it had been in many a long dark day and night.  I had a plan, I had the means and I had a time frame.

Waiting for the day and the hour I sat on the floor ripping pieces of paper into smaller and smaller pieces.

… better off dead

 

… better off dead

 

Maybe I AM  just better off dead

 

The pile of confetti beside me grew.  Night followed day followed day followed night.  I didn’t eat, I barely slept.  The animals were fed and watered.

Old letters, half finished pieces of writing, newspapers and bills fed the pile.  There seemed to be no end to them, as there was no end to my pain.

Maybe I'm just better off dead

 

Day eight.  So close now.

… better off dead

 

Day nine.  Less than 12 hours to endure.  I picked up the piles of confetti.  Leaving things tidy was a must.

… better off dead

… better off dead

… better off dead

 

Then I heard a car pull into the driveway.

His car.

… better off dead

 

‘You are home early. ’

‘The job took less time than we expected so I came straight home.  What have you been doing while I was away.’

‘Not a lot.’

For some reason I couldn’t sneak out and down to the train tracks when he was home. 

Fortunate?  UnFortunate? 

Action postponed but not cancelled.

I still, decades later, hear that siren call.  I can usually distract myself and shift my focus now.  And hope I always will, but cannot guarantee it.

… better off dead

… better off dead

… better off dead

 

Still there, but much quieter.

I suspect it is a part of the reason I volunteer on the crisis line.  Their circumstances, triggers and solutions may not be mine, but the pain and the despair are so very familiar.

If they can live it, I can listen.  Some people at least do not go unHeard.

 

***

Word Count:  830

tag # Sometimes no-one else will hear your screams.

Comment rather than Critique please.  I suspect I would take critique personally.

Soul Searching

I am a frequently grumpy introvert and most of the time I don't focus on the big issues.  I know they are there, but usually the small things are plenty big enough for me to cope (or not cope) with.  Essentially I am a watcher and a listener rather than a doer.

I give what I can to carefully selected charities and volunteer with Lifeline and provide peer support to other people with the dread disease.  A drop in the proverbial bucket - but every ocean starts with a drop.

However in the last little while two big issues have been nagging at me.  Loudly.  And insistently.

Suicide numbers here in Australia are rising again.  And suicide is almost certainly always under rather than over reported.  Not all suicide can or even should be prevented.  Suicide as a permanent solution to a temporary problem?  A very different issue.  I firmly believe that everyone who rings the crisis line with thoughts of suicide is at least ambivalent about their wish to die.  They want the pain to stop, and can perhaps think of no other way, but death is not their only option.  And I, and all the other volunteers will work on that ambivalence and do our best to help them develop a way to stay safe.  For the moment at least, until they can get to some other help...

My local lifeline centre has started a campaign with the aim of raising $1 million by November this year.  The link takes you to a short video.  We receive some Government funding but are largely self funded.  Training is an expensive and on going expense.   I don't donate money (directly) to Lifeline though I suppose that donating and purchasing books from the book fairs counts.  And I don't think I will give money this time either.  I don't even feel very guilty.  Lifeline gets its pound of flesh from me.  And I will be there for most of today supervising and supporting fledgling counsellors first days on the phone.

The next issue is bigger.  And I haven't properly resolved it in my head  or heart yet.  My country's treatment of asylum seekers horrifies me, angers me and shames me.  Over 90% of those whose claims have been assessed have been found to be escaping from genuine persecution and danger.  And successive Governments have bad mouthed them as 'queue jumpers' and potential terrorists, and built them up to be a threat to our well being and safety.  And now we physically and mentally torture them, and no longer guarantee their physical safety.  And deny them any prospect of EVER being accepted and housed here.  And are doing our level best to have them homed somewhere, anywhere else.  Without regard to their safety or dignity.

Who of us wouldn't take any means which presented themselves to ensure our families safety from persecution?   And no, I wouldn't join a queue (even if one existed), if the mere act of joining that queue would endanger my life and that of my extended family.

I have happily signed petitions and marched.  And recently another option landed in my in box.  Which is where my quandary comes from.

Julian Burnside, a barrister and human rights advocate has called on the community to show those people in detention centres that we recognise their humanity, and that we do care.  In this link he asks that we write to an asylum seeker on Nauru or Manus Island, telling them a little about ourselves and  to let them know that they are not forgotten and that we care.  And to enclose a stamped and self-addressed envelope so that they can reply.

One of the things which has made me so angry about our treatment of asylum seekers is the way we have dehumanised them.  Julian Burnside's suggestion is a step in the right direction.  It doesn't and can't of itself change the policies I object to, but it does show that people care.  It is a relatively simple way for me to 'put my money where my mouth is'.  But I don't know what to say, and I frequently feel over committed now and am reluctant to commit myself to an ongoing relationship.  So, from being angry and ashamed at my government I have moved on to being angry and ashamed at myself as well.  More thinking to do.  Quite a lot more thinking to do...

 

Out of the Shadows, Into the Light

Monday September 10th is World Suicide Prevention Day.  I am not so naive to think that we can eliminate suicide completely, but we can certainly try.

Here in Australia suicide is still the leading cause of death for people aged under 44.  More people die from suicide each year than are killed on the roads.

Many of you will know that I do voluntary work with Lifeline Australia, a telephone crisis line.  Lifeline believes that suicide is often preventable, and that help can be only a phone call away.

Last year Lifeline began inaugural national suicide prevention walks - 'Out of the Shadows and into the Light'.  Symbolically, the walks begin before dawn and continue into the growing light.  The aim is to help raise awareness of suicide prevention and encourage people to seek help.  In addition it remembers those lost and those bereaved by suicide.

I was unable to go on the walk last year, but took part in the walk arranged by my local Lifeline centre on Saturday morning.

 It was a long walk, in blustery conditions.  My mobility issues made it a hard walk.  Will I do it again next year?  I hope so.  I really hope so.

Some numbers which may be useful for Australian readers include:

Lifeline 1311 14

Beyond Blue 1300 224 636

Suicide Call Back Service 1300 659 467

R U OK?

September 15 is RUOK Day.   RUOK day aims to help reduce the numbers of people who take their own lives.

A little while ago Gemma invited me and other bloggers to join her in posting on this important day.  And it is a topic that is very close to my heart.

There have been times (and will be again) when I have been decidedly not OK either mentally or emotionally.  Once during a very bad patch, knowing I had the house to myself for a week or so, I spent days sitting on the floor ripping paper into ever smaller pieces, neither eating nor sleeping while the piles of confetti built up around me.  I was lost, could not see any future, and certainly thought it would be much easier for me (and for others) if I was dead.  I had a plan and the means to kill myself.  In the end apathy saved me.  I didn't want to live, but dying required action which took more energy than I had at that time.  So I lived. Mostly I am glad, but still sometimes in the throes of what I call the 3am horrors I wonder.

It always appalls me how easy (and fast) the descent into the depths of despair is, and how agonisingly slow and hard it is to climb back to something approaching sanity.  When I have hit the bottom I have always felt both that I was alone, and that it was up to me to get myself out again.   A feeling which was and is almost certainly wrong. True, no-one had asked me if I was OK but it was equally true that I had not said that I was having trouble coping.  Not sensible of me, but I have learnt (the hard way) that I am not sensible at these times and that I am prepared to go to some pains to conceal just how bad I am feeling.  It appears that this subterfuge is a skill of mine, so the people around me cannot be blamed for not noticing that I need help.

It is much, much easier (and still not easy) for me to admit that I am having physical problems than it is to make the same admission about my mental or emotional health.  On those issues, if (and it is a big if), I admit that I am struggling I really mean I am teetering very close to the edge.  I have known for some time that this is dishonest and hypocritical and preparing this post has led me to make a promise to myself that I will ask for help when I need it next.  A promise I hope I can keep. 

My second reason for participating in RU OK? Day is less directly personal but no less heartfelt.  I have been a telephone counsellor with Lifeline for nearly fourteen years.  And I have learnt some horrifying things.

Suicide numbers in Australia are currently falling slightly.  However, according to the latest Australian Bureau of Statistic Causes of Death report, 2130 Australians took their own lives in 2009, and:
suicide is the leading cause of death for women aged 15-34;
suicide is the leading cause of death for males aged 15-44;
and more Australians die from suicide than on the roads.

Frightening isn't it?  And I assume that suicide is under rather than over reported.  These are Australian statistics only, but I would be surprised if the percentages were very different in any of the westernised countries.  Every suicide impacts on so many people - family members, friends, peers, co-workers and the community at large. 

There are circumstances (particularly given our euthanasia laws) where I can both understand and accept people choosing to end their lives.  However, even when a person has a terminal or an incurable illness which is degrading their quality of life, I hope that palliative care options are looked at before suicide is identified as the only option.

Other reasons for suicide, including struggling with mental illness, lack of acceptance of a person's sexuality, relationship break downs, loneliness, financial issues and the like worry me more.  A lot more.  And I firmly believe that there are alternatives to suicide available for most people.

In Australia there is on average a suicide attempt every fifteen minutes and a death from suicide every four hours.  In my time at Lifeline I have talked with many, many people who have attempted to kill themselves, and about the same number who were actively considering it.  More rarely I have talked with people who were in the process of committing suicide.  I have also talked to people who have lost friends and family through suicide.  I have wept with and for these callers.  Heartbreaking calls, some of which will haunt me forever.

A common thread has run through my conversations about suicide with callers.  Almost without exception the callers did not want to die, but could see no other way to make their pain stop, regardless of whether that pain was physical, mental, emotional or a mixture of some or all of those things.  Pain, teemed with desperation and a loss of hope is truly dangerous.  And, rightly or wrongly, the callers often consider themselves to be alone.  Which is why it is so important to reach out to people we think may be struggling.

Of course we will never be able to eliminate suicide.  Nonetheless, talking, and much more importantly listening to people who are in pain is hugely important. So, a simple question to someone you are worried about could be the start of a lifesaving journey.

Listen to their pain.  Allow them to express their fears.  The first step, of acknowledging just how bad things have got, is the hardest.  And takes a lot of courage (which should be acknowledged and affirmed).  And it is only when their pain has been heard, and perhaps shared that the first small glimmers of hope can creep in.

Hard as it can be, don't try and solve their problems for them.  Accept that they are doing the best they can, in very difficult and frightening circumstances. 

You could summarise what you have heard, and ask them what they plan to do. It may be that they are not ready to do anything just yet.  Nonetheless, being able to express their pain and their fears without being judged can be a very powerful healer.   If they don't know where to start getting help for themselves but feel ready to take action you could suggest a few places which might provide a resource for them.

The appropriate resources are obviously going to be as individual as the person but some which may be of assistance include family, friends, school and other counsellors, doctors, religious groups, mental health crisis services, hospitals, relevant support groups, and/or

Lifeline (131114), 

Kids Helpline (1800551800),

Beyond Blue, 

Sane Australia.

Encourage them to take one step at a time.  And follow up.  Let them know that you will contact them, later today, tomorrow, or next week to see how they are going.  Nothing can change till someone acts - and you could be the catalyst for lifesaving action.

Who are you going to ask RU OK today?  And not just today, but each and every day.

Suicide by cop

While reading my morning paper this morning I discovered that very early yesterday morning our police shot a man dead.  http://www.canberratimes.com.au/news/local/news/general/man-shot-dead-by-police/2074772.aspx
And as I read further I discovered that the same man had been shot by police in September of last year in very similar circumstances.  And had apparently told police at the time of the first shooting that he wished they had shot him in the head.

While my heart goes out to the poor man's family and friends I am, if anything, more sorry for the police and their family and friends.  I don't as it happens have a problem with suicide and to open a new can of worms given our current laws about euthenasia sometimes it is people's only option BUT I don't think you should get other people be they police, train drivers or your family to do the deed for you.