Sweet Life (20 page)

Roland stands and knocks dirt from his bare knees. He drinks most of the lemonade in one swallow, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You haven’t changed your clothes. Did you take your meds?”

“Don’t you get tired of asking me that?”

He looks at her a long moment, but with the sun behind him, she can’t see his eyes. He says, “I get tired of a lot of things. Good try with the mouthwash, but I can still smell the vermouth.”

The old panic rattles through Agatha’s chest. “You won’t leave me, will you?”

“Stop it.”

She grabs his arm as he turns away. “Did you hear that?” he says. “Sounds like the crows are back.”

And she hears them too, all those jagged, coughing cries.

“Here they come. I wonder why they’re late this year.”

There are enough crows to block the sun, enough wings to tear down the clouds, thrash the blue from the sky. At that moment Karin comes through the trees, makes a beeline toward them. “Roland, help me look for Baby. I can’t find her.”

A flicker in the shade of the pines, and a dark form darts across the lawn. Roland points.

Karin tries to catch her stupid dog, but it keeps going until it reaches Agatha. It circles, stops in front of Roland and drops something at his feet.

Karin runs up, out of breath. “What’s she got?”

The dog wags its tail like it’s a hero, some kind of champion. All three bend at the same time, but Roland gets there first, nabs what the dog’s dropped and closes his fists around it.

Karin works at prying his fingers loose. “It looks like teeth. Are those dentures?”

Roland tries to pull away, holds the thing against his chest. “Now, Karin, let go.”

But she won’t. A woman like her won’t ever let go.

The
Madwoman Upstairs

Tuesday, January 4th

At last! I’m allowed to wear clothes again. Seems like I’ve been wearing pajamas forever. Yesterday Mrs. Shrink said she couldn’t understand why the shock treatments made me hyper. She thinks that’s a sign I could have some other problem besides depression. The six zaps did the trick. But now I want to grab the other patients’ hands and hug everyone in sight. Mrs. Shrink ordered me to be kept isolated in my room with a nurse so I won’t bother anyone. Nurse Sarah says I can’t see reality.

There’s a guy here I’m crazy about and I wish he loved me. Yesterday and today I asked the nurses several times to allow Curtis to visit me. I’m still waiting.

I can’t sit still. My emotions leapfrog all over the place. One minute I’m on top of the world and feel like I can do anything. Five minutes later I burst into tears. And I still can’t sleep.

And what do the nurses tell me? Marie, you have to take care of yourself. Get lots of rest.

That’s nice work. If you can get it.

Wednesday, January 5th

What I have to remember:

1. My role is
me
as the patient needing
wellness
.

2. Social contacts with other patients only. I am
not
the nurse.

3. Think before acting about the appropriateness of:

- environment

- familiarity with subject

- safety, because I do not know the reaction of
others (could be dangerous!)

4. Consider if action is maladaptive

5. Do calming things, think calming thoughts

6. Allow others ownership of their feelings (their problems are not my problems)

If I laid the instructions under my pillow, would my spongy brain absorb them overnight?

Thursday, January 6th

I slept four hours last night, even after two sleeping pills and
something for anxiety. Mrs. Shrink restricted me to the upstairs
ward. It’s boring here. But she did give me permission to go to the drink machine downstairs.

Nurse Sarah complimented me today about having better
control around men, especially Curtis. Hope he likes the improved
controlled me. I took a walk in the hall with Nurse Sarah – BUT – tried to help others instead of thinking of myself (oops!).

The staff from my office sent over a huge gift basket, full of special foods and teas. The nurses are jealous.

Jeffrey came today. Nurse Sarah allowed me to go to the cafeteria with him. I know it’s terrible for Jeffrey, losing his brother and now having his mother in the loony bin. When he left, I bawled.

Someone told me I should feel grateful I still have one son, but it’s Mark I think
about all the time. Now I understand about those people who put bodies into freezers. I used to think only a crazy person would do that. But if I’d frozen Mark’s body, I’d still have him.

Friday, January 7th

Yesterday morning I was allowed to attend the 9:30 group. A couple of people hugged me and I felt cheerful. This feeling lasted all day, and then in the evening I was allowed the privilege of watching a large-screen video. The nurses wouldn’t let me downstairs until 7:59 and not without Nurse Sarah.

I was so excited about getting off the upstairs ward that I hugged her. I thought she was used to my arms about her, but she said, Marie, people will think we’re fruits.

Before we left my room, Nurse Sarah pointed out how my thinking about Curtis is obsessive and I’m not in the hospital to solve his problems. She said that, although I had an excellent day yesterday, I need to concentrate on getting myself well.

But I don’t know how to stop helping people. Can’t she see how much pain the world holds?

Saturday, January 8th

I have to remember the reason I’m under close observation –
my impulsiveness.

Mrs. Shrink told me I’m improving. She’s putting me on tranquilizers to calm me and make it easier to sleep. I told her I didn’t have any trouble sleeping before the shock treatments.

She said, “The shocks took away your depression, Marie. You tried to kill yourself, remember?”

When she sounds like my mother, I want to knock Mrs. Shrink’s glasses right off her fat nose.

Sunday, January 9th

I’m tired. Not enough sleep. Last night I was given a new pill called Stelazine. It’s supposed to organize my obsessive thoughts.

Tried to self-mutilate by cutting my wrist with a breadknife. Didn’t even break the skin. When I told Nurse Sarah, she said people who self-mutilate are turning their anger against themselves. I suppose now they’ll limit my privileges even more. I was just sorry the knife didn’t hurt.

Monday, January 10th

Awake at 4:33 a.m. Impossible to sleep. Listened to music and danced around my room. My nerves feel like distinct wires ready to jump out of my skin. One minute I think everyone is crazy about me and everything’s going to be all right, and the next minute I bawl my head off. When Mrs. Shrink told me I could go out for the group walk, I jumped into the air.

Later I waited next to the nurses’ desk for the breakfast trays to come up. A new guy who looks twelve months pregnant said to me, “You gotta go downstairs for the food.”

I told him the nurses make me eat in my room. He whispered, “Do you mind me asking if you’re diabetic?” I told him I eat alone because I tried to commit suicide. He started swinging his arm up and down. “You gotta realize you can’t kill yourself with a fork or spoon! It’s the knife that’ll do it!” I thanked him for sharing. The desk nurse shook her head, and then corrected me: “Marie, you have to eat in your room because you bother the other patients.”

Went to Activity Therapy for one hour and tried making a dream catcher. I had to give up because I couldn’t concentrate enough to tie the knots. I can’t read for long. All I can manage is a bit of writing and colouring. I have a packet of doodle art drawings and pens that Jeffrey bought me. I was colouring when he walked in. I was so glad to see him, I cried. He only stayed for half an hour.

After supper I coloured for three hours. The evening went on forever. I hate being in the upstairs ward. I need to wander around, play shuffleboard or Ping-Pong, watch movies, chat with friends. I felt sorry for myself and told Nurse Sarah I was packing up and going home. She told me a doctor committed me and I can’t leave without permission. How come no one told me this?

I played cards with a new patient named Sherry, and she’s only twenty years old. I’ve never seen anyone so angry. Any little thing and she starts yelling. When they brought her in yesterday, I could hear her from my room, screaming about wanting to kill someone. But she was nice to me.

A nurse came in and asked for Sherry’s nail clippers. I asked the nurse if she thought it was possible for a person to clip herself to death, but she didn’t find that funny. After the nurse left, Sherry told me she had a nail file hidden inside one of her shoes.

“Don’t you know that your shoes are locked up with the rest of your clothes?” I said. It takes awhile for the new people to catch on.

Curtis came to my room today. He looked cute sitting in my chair, with his feet in the blue hospital slippers tucked under him. He filled me in on the woes of his love life. He’s crazy about a married woman. She’s all he thinks about.

I listened, and then suggested that he cool it for a while. Play hard to get. My advice for the lovelorn. I love Curtis and he wants someone else. Of course.

Tuesday, January 11th

Up at five this morning. Happy. Walked in hall for exercise. Kept asking myself; Is my step too bouncy? Did I pivot at the end of the hall with too much vigour?! Self-analysis constant. Today I have a feeling I will beat this. Feel like I want to.

I am wondering what to do with myself until group at 9:30. Will try doodle art. My thoughts ricochet like Ping-Pong balls. I am waiting to ask Mrs. Shrink to allow me downstairs privileges. I keep reminding myself to take deep breaths.

On the way to group today, I saw the twelve-month-pregnant guy, but he didn’t remember me. He said I had on too much makeup and I told him to mind his own business. He stopped on the stairs and yelled, “Oh yeah? Oh yeah?”

What a jerk. Good thing he wasn’t on his way to group, which was bad enough. A woman kept going on and on about her stupid dreams. No one else had time to share. When the half-hour was up, I felt like kicking her all the way down the hall.

I don’t know what to do with myself. Maybe what I need is just to get out of here and go home.

God. Help. Me.

Wednesday, January 12th

I made up my mind. From now on I will:

1. Cut the crap about going downstairs on my own.

2. Concentrate on letting my feelings for these people go. They are not my family and soon I will never see them again.

At the 11:00 group, things became emotional. We were asked to speak about positives in our lives or about how we turned a negative experience into a positive. I talked about my suicide attempt, about how my friends and some of the patients rallied around me. I plan to use this experience to help others.

Because I’m depressed again, Mrs. Shrink decided to try something new. I can’t remember what this antidepressant’s called. She still won’t let me go downstairs and reminded me that the restrictions are for my own good. After crying awhile in my room, I calmed down and now feel exhausted. The days are long. When I’m tired all I can do is colour.

I am a forty-five-year-old doodle artist.

Thursday, January 13th

The one positive about not being able to go downstairs is that I don’t have to see the guy who masturbates in the doorway every time he goes for a smoke. I’m a prisoner up here, but the pervert gets to go downstairs because he smokes. How fair is that?

Today was the first time I fell asleep during Relaxation Group. Vivid dreams with bright colours. I couldn’t remember any of my dreams until I started on the Stelazine.

The nurses let me watch a movie downstairs. The twelve-month-pregnant guy went at me again. Asked me why I lost weight and a bunch of other crap. He insisted everyone had to watch a boring, black-and-white detective movie, but Curtis took it out and put in one about a rock group. I felt so much love for Curtis that I wanted to hurt myself. I didn’t tell the nurse.

Friday, January 14th

For the first time in a long while I went to sleep last night without sleeping pills. I had a terrible nightmare. Something without a head was holding me down and when I woke up, I realized
I’d been asleep for only twenty minutes. After I dozed off again, I dreamt about Mark. He was lying on his side, dressed in the suit we buried him in. I yelled at him for dying and doing this to me. He didn’t say anything. But he looked sorry.

This morning, though, I feel normal. Calm. I feel I want to live.

Saturday, January 15th

Sherry told me a guy raped her. She doesn’t know who. All she thinks about is tracking him down and killing him. This is her second time in the hospital after swallowing an entire bottle of sleeping pills.

Today Curtis told me he figured out the system. Just tell the doctor what she wants to hear and she’ll let you out. I don’t understand what he means. I’m here to get well. So now he’s gone. He said he’d come back and visit me, but I don’t believe him. I feel terrible. All I want to do is sleep, yet every time I lie down I jump up again and walk around in circles.