Lifestyle & Parenting Blog
The sterile smell…the soft squeaking of rubber soles…as it steps on the constant reflection of shadows on clinically cold tiles, makes me want to regurgitate while staring at the bare white walls!
The constant sound of water dripping in my ears, the feeling of disconnect. Where am I? How did I get here? Why do these questions haunt me every day; day in and day out?
I can’t move. My thoughts are paralyzing! My nightgown, a claustrophobic prison on my body. The smell of urine intoxicates me as I close my eyes; trying to recall what happened…
“Sarah, can you hear me?”
Willing myself to recall the events. Nothing!!
“Sarah, your mom’s here.”
Willing myself to recall anything. Why am I here? Why can’t I move, who is this woman standing in front of me? Surely the tender look in her eyes should mean something to me? Why is she crying?
I can see her touch me, but I feel nothing. What’s wrong with me!!!Why am I not reacting?!?
“Honey, it’s mom, I’ve come to do your hair and nails…I can’t wait to tell you about Johnny’s school concert. He did so well!” Who is Johnny?
The bristles of the brush, the strong smell of the nail polish, the water dripping in my ears, the intoxicating smell of urine, the glaring white walls…. I’m imprisoned in my own body…”WHY CAN’T I FUCKING MOVE! BITCH WHY ARE YOU BRUSHING MY HAIR, AND WHO THE FUCK IS JOHNNY! WHY WHO WHY WHO WHY WHO WHY WHO….” Please stop my FUCKING body! How is it possible to rock but not feel or move at will when I want to!?!
“Mam I’m sorry, but you have to leave now. Nurse, please show Sarah’s mom to my office.”
Why are thy ignoring me, what is wrong with me?
“DOCTOR PLEASE CAN YOU TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME. WHO AM I?!”
“Sarah your medication will kick in soon, then we can talk, okay? I need to go talk to you mom quickly, I’ll be right back.”
Okay, just leave me here…staring at the fucking blank walls, counting shadows on tiles, unable to move at will, unable to connect with MY OWN FUCKING NAME!! One, two, three, four, five, six…
“Mam, you really don’t have to put yourself through this every single day. It has been ten years…there’s been no change in her psychosis since her breakdown in 2005…”
“Doctor, I gave her my word. No matter how much it breaks my heart to see my own child like this. No matter how soul destroying it is to look into her blank stare…I will always be her mother. I remember it like yesterday, the day they wheeled her out of that house, the day I gave her my word, the day I promised her that I will not leave her side, no matter what…”
“Mam we know Sarah is in there somewhere…We just don’t know how to reach her. She’s locked herself out in order to survive and not relive the horrific trauma and guilt of that fatal day…”
The stench of your breath permeates my mind. Looking at the tiles as it reflects the haunting shadows of your death…WHO THE FUCK AM I AND WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME!?!
“Because I Gave You My Word”, is this week’s title of a tandem blog, 3 bloggers 1 title. All published on the same day at the same time. Read my fellow tandem blogger’s interpretation by following the below links. Comments are welcome!