Friday, December 17, 2010

falling apart

so i'm far from home and i'm crying and i don't know what to do besides call my mom, who doesn't know what to do besides ask gently if she should call 911. i tell her that i think probably she should.

"but tell them no lights or sirens", i say. these are nice people who run this motel. i like it and i want to be able to stay here again. i tell her to tell the police that i will leave the room curtain open and that when they get there i will keep my hands where they can see them and that i will be docile and come peaceably, although chances are that i will be howling loudly. i can't help it; i'm a loud crier and once i am no longer having to exert self control for the comfort of the other hotel guests, all bets are off.

my mom stays on the phone with me while i wait for the police. i pack my bags. i tidy up my things. i cry. when they come, the curtain is open and i am in full view. the officer knocks politely on the door. i don't remember a lot of it. one officer takes the phone from me and talks to my mom and one talks to me. i cry a lot. i twitch some, but in the very-sad-don't know-what-to-do way, and not in the dangerous-pschotic-about-to-go-off way. we get ready to leave the room.

the officer says "ma'am, i don't want to alarm you, but i have eight other officers with me."
"that's ok.", i say, drooping a little. i notice that although there are no lights or sirens, there are four cruisers. the officer puts me in the back of the nearest one, which for the size of that big honkin' SUV of a thing is pretty cramped. no leg or arm room. i suppose that goes a long way toward subduing the unruly in a pinch, but not so far toward comforting the distressed.

"i am very sorry about this", i tell the driver, " but i am going to cry. and it is going to be loud. i am trying for it not to be so loud, but a lot about my life is out of control right now and i'm doing my best."

"that's ok." he says, and i think somewhere he is thinking that if loud crying is all he has to contend with, he counts himself lucky.

3 comments:

RW said...

My daughter and I are both on medications for our troubles. Yours is a lot like hers, mine is smaller. Are you sure you have the right ones? I'm asking from experience. This isn't a character flaw, you know, it's physiological as much as anything else. It can be fixed, you know. One thing at a time.

flask said...

yeah, appropriate medications would be AWESOME but there's a little hitch in that the best medication for me comes with anaphylaxis and the second best comes with toxicity and blah, blah...

it's along and complicated list ending with nobody will attempt a med trial on me without i'm in a hospital, which given what happened last week while i was trying one of two new meds is kind of a good idea.

Margaret (Peggy or Peg too) said...

These stories are breaking my heart.
I pray you find some peace. Please continue to write it must be cathartic no?

You are also opening my eyes to so much that I never understood.

((Cyber Hugs))

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