Manic
Depression
She laid in bed and wouldn’t move. I know she was awake. I could tell because her breathing had changed and she turned over when I came to the side of the bed this morning. Her dark brown almost black locks were tied together in a careless ponytail, black bags were under her eyes from her make-up she put on two days ago, her breath stunk and she hasn’t ate since yesterday afternoon. That was just a couple of toasts I convinced her to eat.
Depression.
“I know you’re awake,” I sighed getting onto my knees beside the bed.
She peeked at me from under the covers and gave me a blank stare, it broke my heart. I knew she was in pain, I knew she was suffocating and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Yesterday I laid with her and tried to comfort her but that wasn’t happening today. She needed to eat.
“What can you eat?”
Silence
“Want some cereal?”
Silence
“Think you want some bread?”
Silence
I tugged at my hair in frustration.
“I’m sorry,” her voice was low and I strained my ears to hear her.
I just stared at her. “For what?”
“For being crazy, being sick, not knowing why I am this way…”
“What is your depression on a scale of one to ten?”
“Don’t fucking do that!” She snapped.
“Do what?” I replied calmly even though I was starting to get angry.
“Act like a therapist, your my fucking husband!”
“Well I’m doing a shitty job and I don’t know what you want me to do anymore!”
“I want you to leave me the fuck alone!”
“You want me to leave?” I stand. “I’ll fucking leave!” I walked out as I heard her yell “good” behind me. I grab my keys and leave.
Two hours later.
I said bye to James and decided I should check on Nech; I felt bad. I shouldn’t have left. I opened the door to our home and headed upstairs.
“Babe,” I called and walked in, she wasn’t on the bed where I had left her. “Babe?” I called a bit louder. I noticed the bathroom light was on and I walked towards it.
I went for the knob and noticed it was locked.
“Nech I’m home,” I knocked.
No answer.
My breathing grew ragged and I jiggled the knob a bit. My chest started to tighten and I hit the door with my shoulder lightly. It rattled but there was still no answer. Finally another two shoves I was in. Nech was sitting upright on the ground against our tube asleep.
“Nech!” I ran to her and shook her lightly, soft snores were heard showing she was still breathing but she wasn’t awake. I turned on the water and splashed some on her.
Still sleeping.
Shit! I grabbed my cell and dialed 911 while standing up straight and looking down at my unconscious love.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
I turned around and saw something on the mirror. A bright red lipstick kiss and the words “bye” written in the same red.
“My wife tried to kill herself.”
Depression.
“I know you’re awake,” I sighed getting onto my knees beside the bed.
She peeked at me from under the covers and gave me a blank stare, it broke my heart. I knew she was in pain, I knew she was suffocating and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Yesterday I laid with her and tried to comfort her but that wasn’t happening today. She needed to eat.
“What can you eat?”
Silence
“Want some cereal?”
Silence
“Think you want some bread?”
Silence
I tugged at my hair in frustration.
“I’m sorry,” her voice was low and I strained my ears to hear her.
I just stared at her. “For what?”
“For being crazy, being sick, not knowing why I am this way…”
“What is your depression on a scale of one to ten?”
“Don’t fucking do that!” She snapped.
“Do what?” I replied calmly even though I was starting to get angry.
“Act like a therapist, your my fucking husband!”
“Well I’m doing a shitty job and I don’t know what you want me to do anymore!”
“I want you to leave me the fuck alone!”
“You want me to leave?” I stand. “I’ll fucking leave!” I walked out as I heard her yell “good” behind me. I grab my keys and leave.
Two hours later.
I said bye to James and decided I should check on Nech; I felt bad. I shouldn’t have left. I opened the door to our home and headed upstairs.
“Babe,” I called and walked in, she wasn’t on the bed where I had left her. “Babe?” I called a bit louder. I noticed the bathroom light was on and I walked towards it.
I went for the knob and noticed it was locked.
“Nech I’m home,” I knocked.
No answer.
My breathing grew ragged and I jiggled the knob a bit. My chest started to tighten and I hit the door with my shoulder lightly. It rattled but there was still no answer. Finally another two shoves I was in. Nech was sitting upright on the ground against our tube asleep.
“Nech!” I ran to her and shook her lightly, soft snores were heard showing she was still breathing but she wasn’t awake. I turned on the water and splashed some on her.
Still sleeping.
Shit! I grabbed my cell and dialed 911 while standing up straight and looking down at my unconscious love.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
I turned around and saw something on the mirror. A bright red lipstick kiss and the words “bye” written in the same red.
“My wife tried to kill herself.”
♠ ♠ ♠
:-s there’s a reference to one of my failed suicide attempts in here. The lipstick thing I’ve done.Also read this for future or current references about mental illness, mainly the ones involved in this story.