When a mental health patient came to visit our Locking Street home...
When a mental health patient came to visit our Locking Street home, Doti and I were totally unprepared. I remember joking to this fragile young woman that we weren't expecting guests, maybe we should have vacuumed. I wanted her to trust us. But we also had no idea who she was, or what she was capable of.
She was so young, probably only 20, and so confused. She just wanted to go back to the moon. That is where she is from. Her pyjamas were wet from climbing over a fence and through the garden, and her leg cut from a razor blade, her speech a mismatch of clarity; "take me to the hospital", and then utter rambling: "I want to go back to the moon". She said she had been to our house before, that her friend Owen had lived here a long time ago, she felt safe here.
Doti and I had just finished watching a documentary, The Four Horsemen, when there was a loud knock at the door, not unlike a Policeman. After recent events, I wondered what could possibly be sending a cop to my door again. But there she was. I felt so stupid worrying about my own insignificant issues. It was as if 3 different beings were inside of her; the real her, and two other contradicting voices, they were all fighting to get to the front. She stood and pointed as she spoke to one of the other voices "there will be a car crash if she runs away again tomorrow". Her mind racing, then, utter sadness. Doti asked where was her mother? "Gone". "Where is your mum? Do you have lots of friends?" She asked me. Maybe her mother was one of the voices. Tears flowed. She was afraid. She didn't want to go back to the mental health unit. It was a bad place. She insisted she did not have dementia. "Take me to the hospital" she repeated when the ambulance staff arrived, and "Can I come back here if I run away again?" when no one was looking.
My heart was so heavy, the confusion she must live with every day. I could not imagine anything quite so scary. The sad part is that this is the reality for many people in New Zealand, just like it was for a family member of mine who is no longer with us. I never really understood what he was going through, I didn't want to know, but I should have. We all should take a little more time to care, we're all so caught up in our own little dramas we have lost that human touch. Last night's experience sure has me thinking!
She was so young, probably only 20, and so confused. She just wanted to go back to the moon. That is where she is from. Her pyjamas were wet from climbing over a fence and through the garden, and her leg cut from a razor blade, her speech a mismatch of clarity; "take me to the hospital", and then utter rambling: "I want to go back to the moon". She said she had been to our house before, that her friend Owen had lived here a long time ago, she felt safe here.
Doti and I had just finished watching a documentary, The Four Horsemen, when there was a loud knock at the door, not unlike a Policeman. After recent events, I wondered what could possibly be sending a cop to my door again. But there she was. I felt so stupid worrying about my own insignificant issues. It was as if 3 different beings were inside of her; the real her, and two other contradicting voices, they were all fighting to get to the front. She stood and pointed as she spoke to one of the other voices "there will be a car crash if she runs away again tomorrow". Her mind racing, then, utter sadness. Doti asked where was her mother? "Gone". "Where is your mum? Do you have lots of friends?" She asked me. Maybe her mother was one of the voices. Tears flowed. She was afraid. She didn't want to go back to the mental health unit. It was a bad place. She insisted she did not have dementia. "Take me to the hospital" she repeated when the ambulance staff arrived, and "Can I come back here if I run away again?" when no one was looking.
My heart was so heavy, the confusion she must live with every day. I could not imagine anything quite so scary. The sad part is that this is the reality for many people in New Zealand, just like it was for a family member of mine who is no longer with us. I never really understood what he was going through, I didn't want to know, but I should have. We all should take a little more time to care, we're all so caught up in our own little dramas we have lost that human touch. Last night's experience sure has me thinking!
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