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THE DOWNWARD SPIRAL
by: Terri L. Rasmussen
"How many times have I been here before?" Lily asked herself as she sat down on one of the twin beds in the sparsely decorated hospital room. The sunlight beamed into the lone window on the wall, locked of course, so no one could escape, did nothing to brighten the dull and drab white walls. The walls had no pictures hanging from it, she noticed with a solemn face. None of the other rooms she had been in before this one, had even the cheap paintings you could buy at the local dollar store at the incredibly cheap price of 2 for $10.
The glass could be used as a weapon against the staff, the other patients, or even oneself.
This was her third admission into a psychiatric hospital for depression. Her memory came back to her now as the sleeping pills she had ingested slowly worked their way out of her system. However, the darkened pit of the disease had plagued her ever since she was in her teens. Twelve, to be exact. She had been twelve years old when she first attempted suicide. She knew the warning signs extremely well, it's long dark arms seemed to reach out and grab her when she least expected it.
The first time, she experienced depression first hand; Lily had been bullied in junior high school by some wench she would rather not remember. The young girl had incessantly accused Lily of backstabbing and talking about her behind her back. Lily had never done the things the girl had accused her of. No matter how hard she had tried to
convince the girl of that, she wouldn't listen. Instead the girl threw insults at her and threatened to beat her up on more than one occasion. Her self-esteem, already low, plummeted to zero. Feeling like a big fat zero, Lily decided to end her pitiful existence called a life. She had it carefully planned out. While her mother was to be out on a date, she would swallow a handful of sleeping pills her mother kept on hand for bouts of insomnia.
Her plan would have worked too, if her mother had not returned home earlier than expected. And caught her daughter red-handed with a fistful of sleeping pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other.
Knocking the pills out of Lily's grasp, Ellen pulled her only child into her arms and began to cry, "Why Lily? Why?"
Lily cried against her mother's chest while trying to break free from the embrace. "It hurt's too much Momma."
"Oh honey." Her mother tried to comfort the tear stained child she loved more than life itself. "You're just experiencing growing pains. Its teenage hormones. It won't always hurt. I promise."
How did anyone know? How could anyone know? Lily asked herself.
That first attempt was reduced to nothing than teenage hormones run amok and she didn't seek help. Instead, they ignored the cry of desperation. However, Lily knew deep down in her dark soul, that it was more than that. So much more. Over the years, Lily learned the signs and symptoms of depression and became a master at hiding her feelings and her private hurt. No one knew when she smiled outwardly, she was actually crying on the inside.
Of course, she experienced months of happiness and joy. Especially when she hit high school. Boys became interested in her and the wench that had tormented her life for so long finally was put away in an institution for wayward kids. She made new friends and her life began to flourish like the delicate rose she really was.
When she hit her twenties, Lily fell in love for the first time in her life. Nathan entered her life and replaced the cold darkness she had always carried with her with warm, beautiful, and loving light. For the first time in her life she was completely happy. She depended on him for her happiness. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was too happy and the relationship would quickly go down the drain. And of course it had.
She found out about his betrayal: He had been married and had never told her about his wife and kids.
The moment the truth came out in the light, the darkness descended upon her like the plague. The pain of his betrayal was too much for her to bear and once again, she decided to take her own life. No one loved her, she told herself over and over as she swallowed another handful of sleeping pills.
Lying on her bed she waited for death to sweep her away from the miserable pain in her heart and life. When her eyes began to droop heavily with sleepiness, Lily's best friend, Trina cane into the room and noticed what Lily had done to herself.
"Nathan is not worth all this shit, Lily!" Trina screamed at her best friend as she pulled her to her feet and carried her down the hallway out to the car. She had to get Lily to the nearest ER.
Lily dropped her head and mumbled, "I love him so much. How could he do this to me?"
"He's a bastard. That's why!" Trina said as they drove into the night.
"I'm just unworthy of love. I don't deserve anything good. Why would anyone love me? Look at me. I'm fat and I'm ugly." She cried through a drug-induced pity party.
"Yes. You are lovable. You're beautiful, Lily. And if no one can see that, then they are the ones that are fools."
Lily jerked her head up and placed it on the cool window of the car and prayed for God to please let her die.
God didn't listen to her prayers. He spared her life for some unknown reason to Lily.
The doctor's pumped her stomach and she was admitted to the psychiatric unit of the hospital. Her very first admission.
She tried to think back to how many years had passed since that first admission. Was it ten or fifteen. She couldn't remember. All that Lily could think of was, here she was again. In a different hospital. Talking to another social worker. Answering the same old familiar questions.
How long had she been depressed? Had she ever experienced depression before? Was she taking any medication for it now? Were there any other admissions to any other hospitals? If so, when and where? Had she ever attempted to take her own life? What had precipitated the downward spiral? Over and over, she answered the questions until
she felt like a tape recording.
Why hadn't the first hospitalization worked? Why was she going through this again?
Why her? Why couldn't she be a normal woman? Like everyone else. Why couldn't she just be happy? What would it take for her to be happy? Lily busied herself with the endless unanswerable obsessive questions as the nurse on the floor showed her around the unit.
Curling herself into the fetal position on the tiny bed, Lily began to cry again. Gut wrenching sobs shook her shoulders and she was powerless to stop the tears or the pain that had brought out the tears.
The nurse emptied her bag and confiscated anything that could be used as a weapon. Shoestrings, hair dryer, razor, hair spray, mouthwash, and her curling iron were all packed into a clear box and a label with her name on it was placed on the outside of the box. In case she wanted to use anything at some point.
Thinking to herself Lily felt as if she were a failure and a disappointment to her family and friends and herself. After the things she had done, she felt as if she didn’t deserve one iota of happiness or forgiveness. She was useless.
Once again, a man was at the root of her downward spiral into the pit of darkness, she had grown accustomed to. A man she loved deeply enough to marry and let take advantage of her. He had not only stolen her heart and almost her life. But, he had stolen her money and home. He had taken everything from her and she had let him. When the truth came out about his treacherous deceit and walked out on what she had perceived as a perfect life together, Lily decided to end all the pain and lies. She had swallowed another handful of little blue pills while gulping a full glass of water down her mouth.
This time she remembered to lock the doors, so no one could save her.
Ellen had broken down the door and found Lily asleep on her bed and went through the ritual of trying to save her friend's life once again.
"Why am I so unlovable?" Lily asked in a drug induced stupor. "What is so wrong with me?"
"You're not unlovable, Lily." Ellen answered her before calling the paramedics. Lily was almost dead and Ellen knew she needed more help than she could give her.
Conclusion on page 2
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