Am I a Monster?

Another ruined night’s sleep. Waking at stupid o’clock by the continuation of the migraine that had been troubling me on and off for … well, forever … and taking what seemed hours to get back off. Then finally be wakened by the alarm after a seeming five-minute snooze. Still with a migraine.

When I went downstairs, the back door was opened – my husband was in the garden. I took him a coffee and asked how long he’d been up for. “Since four,” was his answer. I wonder if my wandering around had woken him.

I needed the cycle to work to wake up. The fresh air eased my head, but nor enough to give me true relief.

My brain ached and felt like treacle.

Lunchtime, I went for a walk to the park with my boss and told him a little of what was going on. It was relaxing, he is good company, but I wasn’t really with it.

Suddenly, my phone sounds: “Korah Matah Korah Rahtahmah”. My ring tone is John William’s “Duel of the Fates” from “The Phantom Menance” – its loud and very me. However, usually I have my phone configured in such a way that only a few people can make it ruing, my boss, my dad, and my husband.

It was my husband making a video call on WhatsApp. That is highly unusual: he hates video calls.

I cannot hear him properly and I cannot make sense of what he is saying. The only phrase I manage to catch was “suicide note”.

Then he hangs up.

Then he calls again – another video call. This time I can hear somebody there with him. A female voice. I can hear her asking him who it is. She does speak to me, but also asks permission from my husband, who says “no”. However, I manage to establish that she is a paramedic and he has called an ambulance.

I cycle home, up the hill and down the hill, lock the bike away and go into the house. The dog is going bananas.

One of the paramedics came in and told me what happened.

He had tied a noose around his neck. they had loosened it but hadn’t managed to remove it.

I tell her a little bit of what has been going on: I ha bit about how and how much I have hurt him. That he is hurting very, very deeply. That I am not good for him right now. I am burnt out and I am not reacting to his crises in a way that keeps him safe.

I told her about my surgery and the difficulties around it in our relationship. How I hadn’t handled that very well, which hurt him.

I talked about my difficulties with communication and handling emotions. That sometimes I get overwhelmed and shutdown. And that I sometimes cannot identify emotions. She seemed to understand.

The on and off nature of our opening the relationship up. That I had asked for it, but he had really gone for it. My one encounter had really upset him.

Then I told her about my recent London trip and him reading my blog. My notes on Cicero had particularly upset him, although, when I related that to her somehow my words didn’t feel as bad as I’d thought – I had clearly framed Cicero as a friend that I am very fond of, but a friend nonetheless.

She told me that my husband was not safe and they could not leave him and that they were going to take him to hospital – whether he wanted to go or not … and he (currently) didn’t want to go. The police were coming in case the paramedics needed additional help getting him into the ambulance.

I hid upstairs while they slowly manoeuvred him from the back garden into the ambulance.

I didn’t go with them: I really am no help at the moment.

I cannot drive – my head hurts way too much for that – and I am exhausted after days of headaches.