Broken Mom


Oct 7, 2019, 1:39 PM
Broken

Madeleine checked into the psychiatric aka behavioral facility at 1 o’clock am. Actually, she was admitted voluntarily involuntary due to her suicide attempt. This was Madeline’s third admittance. She was clearly ill. Madeleine was suffering and suffocating on her misery. Madeline’s family was suffering too, but Madeline was not interested. Madeline had no energy, smiles, happiness, nothing left for no one. Madeline was too busy punishing herself to be bothered with her family.

The noise never stopped at Elmrock Center. Constant noise, blaring institutional lights, bang, bang, bang the damn door again. Madeline could not sleep though she’d been awake for two days. The voice, her own, in her head droned on doom. Madeline purposefully put her infant daughter Christine out of her mind. She could not bear it. She could not bear Christine’s “situation”, her own fault, her bad luck, her plight but most of all her damn mother. Mother. Oh sure. Damn, it’s not my fault thought Madeline. It’s my mother’s fault. That was Madeline’s mother moniker ‘my mother’, said as if it were vulgarity. Vulgar Mom. Madeline’s mother did not help Madeline when Christine was born. Madeline was fine with that; her mother was not very energetic or cheerful. Better for Christine to be with her own mother thought Madeline.

Ha, thought Madeline. Not so fast girl. Not so fast. Madeline was deep in thought and buried deep in self-hatred when the nurse came into her room. “Lunch Madeline.” That was it. Notice of food, take it or leave it. Madeline had been here before. Madeline’s third visit to Elmrock, she knew one thing, eat and cooperate or never leave. Madeline did not want to leave. She wanted to be home with Christine desperately, and desperately did not want to see the happy little girl she caused brain damage too. It was not enough that Madeline hated herself for the car accident, she had enough sadness, pain and anger to blame her mother too. If Mom had only helped me with Christine thought Madeline, I would not have been so damn tired. It’s Mom’s fault. Everything that is wrong with my life is my Mother’s fault decided Madeline.

Madeline left her room for lunch in the facility cafeteria. She was still in the robe they gave her upon admittance. She could barely get herself to tie the robe closed. She was happy her hair was a grease mess, it reflected her loss of all caring. Life sucks and so do I she thought.

In the cafeteria Yolanda, another patient, observed this bird of a woman. Madeline’s pain was palpable and took space at the lunch table. So was her anger. Yolanda sat next to Madeline. Yolanda was new to Elmrock but not to suffering. Yolanda was an involuntary admittance; she had overdosed on heroin and should have been in a detox ward but her sister called 911 saying her sister was suicidal in an attempt to get some, any, hospitalization. Yolanda was kind. Easy to be kind when life has not banged into your car causing permanent brain damage to your child. Madeline had a chip on her shoulder

Dinner came and went but Madeline stayed in bed. The following day was longer than Day 1. Day 2 is when you realize that you are stuck here and you screwed up really badly. That was the position everyone who arrived at Elmrock held. But some of the “inmates” actually wanted to get well, actually wanted to address their misery. Madeline was not ready. Day 2 and it was still her mother’s fault. Madeline’s father and mother came to visit. Madeline refused to see her father unless her mother left the building. Madeline was building her misery chest.

Kat

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