Fr-A-c-TuR-E-D…

My soul is tHe sound of brEakIng glaSs.

When MY son goes mad.

The sight of a bread macHinE thrown to the floor is Almost funny when it bounces.

Pounding fists, biting, scReaming.

HysTeria is catching.

ScreaMing is too.

9.1.1.

“What is your emergencY?”

The police are not the ones who can HElp…but they stAnd by, as helpless as I

HeaRTbeat crashIng, craShing, crashing.

Panic.

“Take this pill. Now this. And this.”

The doctor is a distant voice: “…he needs an inpatient mental health admission”

A long time coming

Following the amBulance thRough the rain…

Or maybe they are tEArs?

Hours waiting.

Nothing…nothing…nothing…

Questions without answers

“He’s just too strong for me now.”

Five people hold down my son for blood tests that reveal nothing wrong.

Vecta trance descends as digital projections swirl and spool

“We have no place for your son. He doesn’t fit the requirement of need.”

Home again, drugged complacence.

What will we do tomorrow…and the next tomorrow…and the next?

Every day is an undetonated hand grenade

You never Know when It will go off

You are grateful wheN it doesn’t.

Until it does.

I scrub blood from my sleeve and watch it swirl down the drain…

Along with the happiness the rest of the day promised.

The clock reads midniGht

It is a new day.

________________________________________________

The author is recovering. So her is son. Please be kind. I may not have the strength to answer any questions. Read between the lines above. It says it all.

For now, my son is home and doing as best as can be expected. He suffered no major physical injury. Nor did I. But I need time to recover anyway.

November is National Novel Writers Month. I typically participate and am trying to find the enthusiasm to do so. I may not have energy to respond, but that does not mean I do not appreciate encouragement and understanding.

I will bounce back from this…I am like my bread machine that way.

But not yet.

 

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23 thoughts on “Fr-A-c-TuR-E-D…

  1. All I have to give you is digital hugs. I send you those. I know you’re getting professional advice and working through it a millimeter at a time. I know you must have family and close friends to give you support. If you need someone else, I’m here. HUGS

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks. I do appreciate the offer. I’m just sick of my own complaints at this point. I’d like a mai tai and a hot beach somewhere to soak up my tension. Sadly, we are getting sleety cold weather in the forecast.

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      1. I understand. I know that when I’m dealing with a tough challenge I get to a place where I’m embarrassed and bored with talking about it, especially to those few friends I routinely confide in. You haven’t talked to me, so I’m a fresh (and admittedly ignorant) ear, so at least you won’t be repeating something you’ve said a million times before. I don’t know whether that’s an issue for you, but thought I’d put it out there… 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      1. My daughter just said the other day, “I don’t know why people complain about getting socks for Christmas. I love socks. Don’t they love cute, warm feet?” 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I know. Warm, fuzzy socks that stay on but don’t cut off ankle circulation are the best. Sadly, they like to take frequent vacations so I rarely have a matching set by the end of winter.

        Liked by 1 person

      1. It is a very nice time here right now, and there’s a spot open right here in my home whenever I am at home and whenever you get a chance to get away ❤

        Like

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