“Just pull yourself together.” Yeah because life’s that simple. Idiot. (Esmee)

“Just pull yourself together.” Yeah because life’s that simple. Idiot.

 I finally took Kathy to the A&E and spent the four hours sitting in the waiting room with her while we waited for a doctor to do what I had known he would do all along. Panic. We did not talk much during our weight, but by then all the words that needed to be said had already been spoken. Kathy had told me to leave a million times but no matter what I missed and that included work, or how many times Emmet made my mobile shake in my pocket there was no way that I would leave her sitting in one of those seats all alone. I knew how that felt. I had waited for an hour, shivering and rocking curled up on the seat opposite from where I sat now until a nurse had come over to me and asked me what the matter was. I had never forgiven my mother for the way she treated me that day. Her excuse was that she was scared. My reasoning was that no matter what fear she felt she could not have been as scared as I had been.

In a way there was nothing much sadder than waiting in the A&E when your mind was sick. People came and go and you felt for them, babies cried from car seats and even drunk people made there presence known in the middle of the day but you knew that the reason you where there was a little different from the rest of them. That the triage nurse wouldn’t really know what to say even if your mouth could actually put into words why you were in the A&E on an uncomfortable seat, staring at the leaflets, rather than at home curled up on the sofa with a mug of hot chocolate. It was heard to vocalize a feeling that was like a pain but worse than that. It was not a sharp pain or a dull ache, it did not come and go or remain persistent and it was not localized to an organ or a joint. It floated around the skin and flowed in blood. It imbedded it’s self in the organs and most of all for no reason you could see or think off you wanted to make it all go away in any way you knew how. As for the reason why you weren’t drinking hot chocolate on the sofa - It was mostly to do with the fat that there was not enough strength left in your arm to lift the kettle and the sound of boiling water might actually make you cry for the rest of the day.

The outcome of the sad hours was even sadder of course. The stranger in green I had almost promised Kathy that would make it better said nothing and then left the room without an explanation. Kathy was so new to all of it I could have cried with the way her face looked when he had. It was hope at its best. A hope that I knew would be shot down, and it was half an hour later when a nurse entered the room with white wrist tags and an admission form before explaining there was no children’s psych  that could make it over until tomorrow morning to asses her properly and she would have to stay with them until that time. Of course that meant a call to her parents as well.

Kathy’s mother turned up fuming with her daughter. She was a short yet thin woman with little bird type legs that were slipped into grey tights and pushed into black designer boots. She had dyed blonde hair that was just growing out at the roots but would probably be touched up soon in some expensive salon with a posh name. She carried a designer bag and smelled of an overpowering designer sent. I could see what Kathy meant. Her mother would tolerate nothing but the best. Imperfection was not an option.

She demanded to know what the hell she was playing at as she texted someone on a smart phone; she also demanded that Kathy pulled herself together in a huff before throwing herself down on the chair I had vacated for her.

“She can’t just pull herself together,” I protested unable to keep my silence as roll after roll of defences blocked Kathy off from the real world she was sitting in the middle of. I had done this to her in some ways. I had took her here and now I saw the harm I had done and I felt sick to my stomach. I could not win in Kathy’s situation and neither could she.    

“Don’t be ridicules,” her mother shouted looking down her nose at my old tatty second hand size fourteen jeans and oversized t-shirt that hid my tiny baby bump from view. “Who the hell are you anyway?”

“I’m just a friend, someone who wanted to help. It doesn’t even matter,” I sighed turning towards the curtain that separated us from the rest of the A&E before turning once more and observing the shell that sat crossed legged on the bed playing with the white bands that had numbered her. “Take care of yourself Kathy,” I said gently, forcing a smile. She did not answer. She didn’t even look up. Then I was gone.

We hoped (Esmee)

Hell i am sorry i am really not sure of this chapter but i had to mfinish it some way. As i said it is only a rough working through here. The main story is on the other site. I may drop the whole Kathy thing entirly yet. Any way  for the time that is here. I hope this isn't to abismal!

 

We hope

 “The hospital; Yeah right. Not a hope in hell is that happening Esmee. Do you have any idea what my mother would say to that? My dad would never speak to me ever again either,” Kathy scoffed her voice somewhere between amusement and complete and utter fear.

“If you’re dead neither your mother nor farther would have a chance of talking to you ever again anyway.”

“Yes I know but if I am dead I wouldn’t feel it. If I was dead, if I was gone, I wouldn’t have to look into their eyes everyday of forever and see that the daughter they jumped through rings for was nothing, more than a disappointment to them – someone that could have changed the world but instead landed up in the A&E. It’s not really their feelings that I care about even though I should do. I mostly just care what my soul would feel like. What is the point of fighting to live if you spend the rest of your life wishing that you were dead?

I sighed running out of words to say to her suddenly feeling mentally exhausted as well as physically There was so many things that I could have and should have said to her and I wanted to but the ending seemed fixed. I would not change her mind that her parents would much rather haver her alive and in the hands of doctors for no matter what reason then having to watch as her coffin disappeared behind a curtain at the end of a ceremony of songs that tried to sum up the life of a girl that should have still had at least sixty more years spread out in front of her. It was devastating, so devastating that without any warning I found tears pricking at the back of my eyes that I pushed back down, biting on my bottom lip in protest that my emotions had betrayed me once again.

“I’m scared Esmee, I don’t know what to do, I am not as strong as I look. I walk around like I understand, like that is nothing that will ever get to me and here you are asking me to go to the hospital. I don’t want to be the freak. I want to be the super girl that everyone expects. I could be perfect if I could just pull myself together. If I didn’t cry over every small little thing – if I could stop waking up every morning and just hoping all day that someone would just give me a hug and tell me that it will all be OK even if it is a lie.” Kathy’s head dropped down and she pressed her hands into her eyes. I had lacked the words to help her because mentally for the smallest of time I had given up on her and now she thought it was hopeless. I had been the first person to every stop her and reach out my hand to her and I may have just made it worse. I should have known better. You never stop trying. You never stop talking, even if you have to say the same thing a thousand different times in a thousand different ways there should never be exasperation in your tone and you should never stop fighting.

“You are going to be OK,” I confirmed sternly as I shifted as close as I could to Kathy and wrapped my arm around her shoulders.  Her body was stiff against mine. Her back arched out like the contact may have burnt her in some way, her shoulders tort and body against the joint. I should have let her go but I couldn’t, her devastation making my arms want to wrap around her so tightly it took all my effort not to bundle her onto my lap. I wiped my eyes with my other hand discreetly. Hormones were making me a wreck over little things.

“I won’t hurt you Kathy,” I whispered gently

“I know, but you are the first person who has put there arm around me in nearly five years. It feels strange.” If she was trying to break my heart it was working. She was sixteen years old and no one had touched her in five years. They were only trying to help it was true but people laid on expectations that she couldn’t handle and never even bothered to reward her with a hug, never granted her any reassurance that she was going to be OK. That she would be loved even if she wasn’t perfect.

“You’re going to be OK sweetheart,” I said again turning myself towards her so I could wrap my other arm around her as well bringing her in close to me in a hug. I wasn’t who she wanted of course. My comfort and embrace meant very little to her on the inside. I could have hugged her forever and she would have given it all up if her mother or farther would tell her once that she was good enough, that they were proud of her just the way she was. That there love for her was unconditional and it wouldn’t go away if she produced something less than perfect.

 I was nothing too her. A passing stranger that in reality had been promising her something that I couldn’t really promise. It should have been that way of course, that a call for help wouldn’t go unanswered but the world was undeniably flawed. My hope had been offering her something that may not have existed. Parental compassion was not always guaranteed, and a doctor’s qualifications on paper were sometimes exactly that in the real world; paper thin and pointless.

“You are going to be OK Kathy. It will be all OK in the end,” I promised again because there was nothing more left to do in the situation. I could live with the hope that it was true and that was what we all did at the end of the day. When things seemed  impossible, when things were bad – we hoped.

The time to fight (esmee)

Augh this chapter felt like it would never end! I'm not two sure of it but i hope that it is OK and sorry about the fact it is super super long!

The time to fight

Kathy took my hand without thinking much more and I wrapped my fingers around hers before setting course for somewhere to sit.

“Do you want something to drink? There is quite a cute little café just around this corner - My treat of course.”

“No, I don’t really like Cafés much too many people, it feels like they are looking at me.”

“That’s Ok; to be honest they aren’t my favourite things either though I can tolerate them if I have to. There are some benches just around this corner as well though, under some trees. My sister and me have sat under there before and had a chat. It quite pretty even in winter and it isn’t busy most of the time so easy to talk if you want to.” My voice chocked as I said the words my sister, as I realized what had happened that day when we had talked on that bench, a few hours later I was syringing charcoal down her mouth while she screamed in agony. It had been a good day until then but it all changed and the story could be the same here. I would have to leave Kathy eventually.

“It is pretty here,” Kathy commented as we reached the bench and we both sat down as far apart from each other as we could. I was not her friend or her salvation. I was the freak in the chemist in the old jeans and an oversized top. “I come here a lot and I have never noticed how pretty it is. I don’t see the beauty in much anymore though, but this, this is pretty.” Kathy smiled at the same time as her bottom lip quivered and her shoulders rose up to her chin as a form of self-comfort. She looked away from me just in time to try and conceal the tears that fell out of her eyes. I sat on my hands to stop me from reaching out to touch her. Her tears were private and what she needed. A thousand tears could stop a suicide. It could even result in a smile at the end of it all.

“How many of those pills were you planning to take?” I asked trying to bring the conversation gently around to what it needed to be, after all I would have been either in another shop staring at forbidden and now somewhat confusing baby stuff or in the car back home by now if she hadn’t caught my attention because I feared for her safety. After all I had a late shift that I was determined not to miss even if Emmet probably had other ideas for me.

“I’m not sure. You’re a nurse, what’s a good number?”

I find one or two is a good number. Get rid of niggling pains and such. They are also quite good if you got a fever as well.”

“So what’s a bad number?”

“An overdose is a bad number. These tablets are handy Kathy but they can also be deadly. They attack your liver in large doses and it can fail. It’s a nasty death. It’s not like just falling to sleep. The body just doesn’t give in like that, it fights to the end. Days can be spent in agony from a failing liver. This is not the easy or simple choice.

“Of course it isn’t simple. Nothing is simple anymore. I didn’t just get out of bed this morning and thing I will kill myself today. I just don’t know what there is left for me to do. I have to stop all of this somehow the pushing and the pressure and the hundred billion exams that fall from the sky and keep me revising to god knows what hour. Heaven forbid I should get anything less than an A or I forget to walk the dog or skip an hour of violin or singing practice. No your right none of this is simple but they won’t want me when I fail an exam or when they find out what I do to get through the days. They won’t want me when I’m not perfect so I am just taking away a problem.”

“All those things that you have just described can be resolved with some basic communication with your teacher and whoever looks after you. You just have to try and explain to them that you think it is all getting on top of you and you need a break. Killing yourself is really permanent ending to what will be a temporary problem.”

“Don’t you think I tried talking to them?” Kathy snapped turning her face towards me for the first time so I could see the tear streaks on her face. “It’s not that simple, besides; I think I might have gone too crazy anyway. I have started doing…things…strange things, to deal with the pressure.” Kathy moaned her voice so muted and gentle time she said the last bit that I had to slip a little closer to her on the bench to hear what she was saying.

“I am assuming that you are talking about the fact that you cut yourself?” I asked not dancing around the subject anymore or giving her time to deny it as I know she would have. She didn’t realise that she was not as crazy as she thought she was, that at any given moment when she was walking out in public or sitting in her class there was a chance that one or two people around her would bare the same kind of scars that she had. She was certainly unaware that the nurse beside her has them littering her arms so they were almost unrecognisable.

“I don’t cut myself, that’s for Emo kids and freaks right. Normal people don’t do that. Why would anyone do that?” Kathy tried to scoff even though there was real pain and anger somewhere in her voice that even she couldn’t here. She didn’t hate all self-harmer’s but she did hate one right then and that was the person she was trying to have a go at – herself.

“I cut my self,” I confirmed in a matter of fact tone as I pulled the sleeve up on my coat and jumper and revealed what was underneath to Kathy. She was suddenly drawn to me and closed the gap between us on the bench so she was right by my side. I was no longer a stranger to her now. We could have had nothing else in common, we might have lived on other sides of the planet but that one thing pulled her towards me and made me suddenly important. She saw me as the rule book for a game she had invented, however I had nothing more than she had I was still trying to find the rules and more importantly the way I could win the game and finish it.

“You did all of these?” Kathy asked softly not able to take her eyes off of the red, dark purple and white scars that littered the entire surface of my arm. Her eyes were drawn to the bigger ones, the ones that healed strange because of a lack of medical intervention, and the ones that had opened wide and bled scaring me in the middle of the night. They were nothing now really. They were raised and dark red against the surface of my pale skin. It was my skins payback, the punishment it decided to give for being treated so badly, but in the face of it all it had forgiven me and it had healed. Reminders were the only things that remained -The reminder that I had fallen but at the same time a reminder that I had got back up again.

“I struggled for a long time and truth be told I still do sometimes but I think the reason that my arms look like this is because for a long time no one knew what I did. I hid it away and never told anyone and all the time it was getting worse.  It became impossible to stop. The thing is Kathy I thought the same thing as you, which was that I was one freak in a big world where everyone else could function and be exactly want they wanted. It isn’t true. There are thousands out there doing the same things and feeling the same feelings but not speaking up or seeking help because the subject is still taboo. You can get help and doing so is nothing to be ashamed about. Hiding away and swallowing that lot with a razor held at your wrist is not the way out of this mess. I’ve tried it and mostly what happens is you get dragged in further until you land up in a hospital or under the ground. They are the worst possible outcomes in all of this. I know right now you feel like an adult and you know how the world works but honestly in the grand scheme of things my love you are still a baby.”

It looked like she was going to fight me and why wouldn’t me at her age I thought that I had got the meaning of life down to an art and had come to the conclusion that it was never going to get any better and that to resolve the issue death was the only answer. If anyone had told me that I was going to get married or own a mortgage for the most wonderful house or to have a daughter and be pregnant again I would have laughed at them and told them that some people just weren’t made for life but I would have been the one in the wrong. If I had died I would have never have seen Emmets eyes or felt his skin on my body, or felt the ecstasy of making love to a man that matched with your soul perfectly. I would have never experienced the most wonderful pain that was labour or had a screaming healthy daughter lifted onto my chest while she was still attached to me.   Any pain that I endured now was worth it for them.

Kathy opened her moth to try and tell me what I had said was wrong but only managed to yelp instead as she shifted on the bench and the fabric of her jumper pulled at her almost useless bandage on her arm leaving her breathless with the pain.

“Are you OK?” I asked

“It’s fine, it’s nothing. They just really hurt lately.”

“Can I see them?”

“Why would you want to?”

“Let’s just say the nurse in my panics about infections too much. That bandage looks like it has seen better days.”

“I have never showed anyone before and you’ll just judge me,” Kathy moaned adjusting her sleeves so it covered her wrists and hands completely.

“You really think that I would have any right to judge you? and besides as I said if you get the help you need now. You you talk to a doctor, you see someone at you school and you get some proper help for all these really overwhelming feelings you will probably never ever see me again after today. On the other hand, if you take that overdose and keep cutting your arms I will probably be the one making up a bed for you in the mental health unit I work in.

Kathy had no words to answer me and instead looked away staring back up from the street we had come from with longing in her eyes to escape what she had gotten herself into. She could have left any time she wanted too. I would have called the police described her as vulnerable and hopped into my car and made my way home with a sick feeling somewhere deep down in the pit of my tummy. She would take the pills without any intervention. She was powerless to them, completely wrapped up in their promise of bitter relief that she thought was held inside the tiny white capsules. She would take the overdose but there was nothing I could really do to stop her from walking away but something internal kept her routed there - the evidence that the battle wasn’t completely lost. She was still open to the possibility of being rescued, even if she couldn’t stop herself from taking the tablets.

“Well you’re a nurse, can’t you help me?” Kathy whispered gently

“Yes but it isn’t going to get better overnight my love, you are going to have to put a fair amount of fight and effort into and you are going to have to do something really bloody scary  and really bloody hard with me right now as well.”

“What?”

“You’re going to have to take this had once more,” I said placing my hand into her lap, “Take some big breaths, and come with me to the A&E,”