#leave him alone he needs his daily dose of delusions

[cattoru]

[punksarahreese]

I haven't had another episode, except last night was touch and go + Mr Crockett

Episode | Crockett Marcel

Excerpt from a psych!AU I’ll never write; Crockett is an inpatient in the psych ward and he has therapy with his favourite Psychiatrist

Prompt: “I haven’t had another episode, except last night was touch and go.”

Word count: 1797

CW: Psych ward, talks of depressive episodes, brief mention of dermatillomania, schizoaffective disorder, child death

***

“Mr. Marcel?” the voice at his door made Crockett groan, recognizing the voice as the nurse who always disturbed him at ridiculous hours. He wanted to have a talk with whoever decided pill time would be at six in the morning, how was he supposed to “heal” if they never let him get any sleep?

“Maggie, can’t you let me sleep for another hour,” he rolled over and sighed when she shook her head. Medication and vitals were a morning routine, every day before the sun even thought about rising completely. Routine was good, they told him, a routine would help with figuring out what was reality and what was his mind playing tricks. He didn’t think so, nothing would stop the fact that he saw his daughter clear as day despite the 5th anniversary of her death steadily approaching.

“Up and at ‘em, mister,” the nurse mused as she marched over with his tray and the cart carrying the monitors. He obliged because he had no choice but to do so, even though he hated the way the pills made him feel. Antipsychotics were something Crockett hated, ever since his diagnosis back when he was just twenty-one. They made him feel incorrect, as if he was floating through life with blinders on. He knew they were supposed to help, to show him what was really there, but he couldn’t help but think it made him more miserable.

“You have one-on-one therapy today,” she reminded him as she watched Crockett take his pills and then checked under his tongue to ensure he wasn’t hiding them. He had tried that a couple times and sometimes it worked on the younger nurses, but not Maggie. She knew all, especially these kinds of tricks, and Crockett wasn’t about to risk mandatory IV medications for another month just for one day without the drugs.

“Oh lovely,” he muttered, “Not that Charles guy again, right? He’s insufferable.”

Maggie laughed, “Oh please, Daniel is just fine.”

“Insufferable,” he restated with an eye-roll, still complying when she held out the pulse oximeter to clip it to his fingertip. Maggie just hummed, watching the machine for a moment before speaking.

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that. If it makes it any better, though, you’ll be seeing Doctor Reese today.”

That brought a smile to his face, though it was one that never quite reached his eyes. Maggie wasn’t sure if she had ever seen a genuine smile from Crockett, certainly not since Harper’s death and the worsening of his illness. Still, if one thing made his days more bearable it was sessions with Doctor Reese, who Crockett had started to consider more of a friend than a physician by that point.

“Our Sarah,” he hummed as she took the device off his hand, “She’s lovely.”

“She is,” the nurse agreed, “Now go get ready for the day, Crockett. You’ll be expected in the dining hall by 7:00 and I certainly won't have you slumming around in your pyjamas all day; you know the drill.”

***

By noon, Crockett was ready to go back to bed. Breakfast had been as dull as always, with his friend Ava in solitary for the next two days he didn’t have many people to speak to. Well, Natalie liked to talk to him but, if he was being honest, she could be a little much. She was just excited, Maggie insisted, but she tried to get Crockett to talk about his hallucinations far too often for him to be comfortable.

Jimmy sat with him that day, though. He didn’t talk much, or ever really, but he was decent company. They played cards together sometimes and always partnered for the team-building exercises in group therapy. Crockett didn’t press for verbal communication and Jimmy never judged him for his episodes; it was a friendship built on silent respect and they were both pleased with that arrangement. Still, Crockett often preferred to be alone, and that day was no different, so he retreated to his bedroom the second they allowed him to.

When nurse April arrived at his door with her tablet in hand, Crockett had been staring blankly at the TV. It wasn’t on, never was, but he watched it as if the most riveting program was playing. He wasn’t focusing on a delusion, though, and he promised April that when she asked if he was okay. The meds got rid of most of his visual symptoms, though the auditory ones were still a frequent occurrence with or without the drugs. He just liked to look at the TV, letting his mind wander to a time where he could actually enjoy television. It had been about five years by then, the last movie he remembered watching being the Princess and the Frog. Harper had loved that movie and talked excitedly of visiting New Orleans to see where her papa and Princess Tiana were both from. She never got there, unfortunately; the cancer taking her before her dad had the time to buy plane tickets.

“Come now, Crockett. Sarah is waiting in the conference room for you.”

He let the nurse lead him down the hall, silent because his head was still miles away. He was alert and lucid, that wasn’t the problem. Today it wasn’t delusions that plagued Crockett, instead it was the memories that had started to hurt him the most. Sarah would ask about that, especially once she saw the semi-lunar marks along the inside of his wrists, turning to scratches that curled up towards his biceps. Maggie hadn’t seen them because of his long sleeve shirt that morning but Sarah would check, she always did. It’s not as though Crockett did it on purpose, but when he couldn’t sleep at night and his skin was crawling all he could do was dig his nails in and pray for it to stop. The bugs weren’t there, Sarah always said they weren’t real, but his skin felt wrong and nothing would stop it. He had to scratch, he would tell her; it was the only way to make it stop.

“Crockett,” she greeted him cheerfully the second he stepped into the room, “Have a seat.”

“Hello, Sarah,” he replied as kindly as he could, though he was a bit distracted. His mood had been pretty low all morning, which was probably evident in his posture and demeanour.

“How have you been doing?

Crockett just shrugged, occupying himself with studying Sarah’s name badge. She had gotten a new one, the piece of plastic now boasting “psychiatry fellow”. She had been his secondary therapist since she was just in her second year of residency, so it was nice to see her climbing the ranks. It was well deserved, of course; Sarah had been the one constant in his most recent stay that kept Crockett relatively sane.

“Crockett?”

“Fine, I guess,” he muttered, “I haven’t had another episode… except last night was touch and go.”

“How so?” She was always so patient, not pushing too much, but she did need answers. If he was still having episodes on his antipsychotics, they may need to adjust the dosage again. He hoped she wouldn’t, though, because he hated the constant brain fog that came along with high dosing.

“A low, again.” he was fidgeting with his sleeve, not able to make eye contact at that point. His depression was a topic he never liked to discuss, since it was an aspect of his disorder he hadn’t been aware of until after Harper. Before it was just schizophrenia, a diagnosis that came about after a paranoia episode landed him in handcuffs in the security office at his university. However, when he hit a major low after Harper’s leukaemia was found, his primary psychiatrist noted that his diagnosis may be more than they expected. Schizoaffective disorder with the depression variant, he was told, and that was probably a factor in why he didn’t respond to the medications in the beginning.

“I see,” Sarah typed something onto his chart before looking up at him with gentle eyes, “Do you want to share how you felt?”

“I miss her,” he admitted softly, “It’s hard.”

“I know, I’m genuinely sorry, Crockett. Harper must have been so loved, I’m sure she misses you.”

“The meds…” Crockett huffed, “I can’t see her anymore.”

“Crockett, she’s not there,” Sarah’s words were gentle but still firm, as if he needed a reminder that his only daughter was dead before she even got to live a proper life. That reality was something that never left his mind, a nagging feeling that haunted him every single day. Meds or not, it was hard, but without seeing Harper daily, Crockett began to feel like he would forget her.

“Sarah, I need to see her.”

“I can’t do that, you know how unsafe it can be to take you off such a high dosage. I know you are upset but we can talk through this, okay?”

“No!” he was getting frustrated, even though he hated to yell at Sarah. She didn’t understand how important this was. He didn’t care if she was dead and she claimed the delusions weren’t real, he just wanted his daughter back. Even if it wasn’t the proper reality, maybe Crockett didn’t want to live in one without Harper. He told Sarah that much, upset that she would claim that she isn’t there anymore. She is always there; sitting on his bed and playing with her stuffed bunny, singing songs from those Disney shows she adored so much. Crockett saw her, held her close when the bad feelings returned and he felt like he was drowning. His baby would never leave him, she couldn't; Harper was all he had left.

“Hey,” Sarah spoke quickly when she recognized his agitation, “I’m sorry. Tell Harper I didn’t mean any harm, next time she’s around, okay? Can we start over, please?”

He frowned, knowing what she was doing, but nodded all the same. He didn’t want to fight with Sarah, she was one of the only staff members around here that he properly trusted. She didn’t want to upset him and she didn’t want to take his daughter away, it was just hard to recognize that sometimes. She wanted to help, to understand his mind, and maybe it was time for Crockett to let someone in again. It had been far too long.

“Start from the beginning,” she prompted as he slowly relaxed again, “How long ago did this low start?”

[jmaria200]

American expectations

Americans traditionally expect that their lives will progressively get better, that where they currently are is just a stop along the way to more money, career success, recognition, and happiness.  This is part of the great “American dream” that has fueled the goals of so many people. And if someone doesn’t achieve these? Well, they must’ve been lazy, not worked hard in school, etc. But is this really how the world works or just what we’re told? Does the American dream apply to everyone? Or rather was it the White Man’s American dream all along? It’s this look at the flip side of the American dream that discredits it in my opinion.

I recently read a article entitled “The Grim Secret of Nordic Happiness” by Finnish writer Jukka Savolainen that caught my attention. Briefly the article discusses possible reasons why Nordic countries including Finland, Denmark, Iceland etc. often top the rankings of the annual World Happiness Report that measures each country’s overall happiness. The report relies on Gallup polls that ask participants to rank their best potential life based on an fictitious ladder where rungs are numbered 1 to 10. The higher the rung the better the life. Then they are asked to compare this potential happiness to where they currently stand on the ladder.  Given such a no frills definition of happiness, Savolainen surmises that it is no wonder his fellow country man and other Nordic people rank high on what he labels “average life expectation” (Savolainen). On objective measures of life Finland has very low poverty levels, top notch universal healthcare and education, and bountiful vacation and parental leave. In addition to this, the egalitarian nature of Scandinavian people is often traced to their Lutheran roots and Janteloven or the Law of Jante, a social code that dictates “ emphasis on collective accomplishments and well-being, and disdains focus on individual achievements.” (Scandinavia Standard). The idea of Janteloven found it’s beginnings in the works of author Askel Sandemose and his 1933 book A Fugitive Crosses His Tracks. In Sandemose’s work, the individuals of fictional town of Jante are expected to assimilate to the group.  The laws of Jante speak to people not thinking their are smarter, anything special, etc. Today this code is often reflected in the way the people of Scandinavian countries celebrate their strong social welfare systems as opposed to the individual achievements and celebrity of countries like the United States.

In the Eastern practice of Buddhism seeing oneself as interconnected with the world around one is seen as the more natural way of being.  When one let’s go of the “self” as a separate, isolated entity and comes to terms with the universality of human existence, one can feel less alone and more joy and desire to reach out to others.  Anger, greed, and delusion arise from over investment in the self, also known as the ego in Western psychology. Even small threats can make the self lash out in defense leading to conflict and pain.

I bring these examples up to highlight ways of considering human relations differently from Western culture, especially American culture.  I’ll focus specifically on American culture in this blog entry as I’m convinced that we are on a down slope and it is not a failure of individual striving, but a failure to be egalitarian, to understand our connections, and work for the greater good.  I’m not saying that we all need adopt Scandinavian culture or become Buddhist, but what if we were to embrace more modesty and let go of personal striving for the empty promises of materialism and instead put that money towards the greater social good. Yes, this country has wealth but much of it gets funneled into military spending on weapons, debt, and the pockets of a handful of the super rich.  I believe daily people get put through the shredder of this culture in the name of the American dream: long work hours or no work, a broken healthcare system that leaves millions uninsured, stagnant wages, excessive cost of living, etc. When it seems that one just being human is not enough to earn respect and a decent way of life there is something wrong. How does this happen? That is a complex question to answer, but I will attempt to address some of it here.

Fear and Anxiety

If there was any place to start with America’s woes I would say it is fear, or fear mixed with uncertainty also known as anxiety. Fear was useful for us as humans. It helps keep us alive and learning what is dangerous but when we become afraid and we don’t have enough information or the wrong kind of information, we become debilitated. People who are in a state of worry can be swayed to believe ideas without evidence or that contradicts reality because they’re world is being filtered through their worry. Anxiety causes people’s worlds to contract and creates distance from our fellow men and women and fosters a sense loneliness. Anxiety seeps into our culture in many ways. There is the worry of personal lacking generated by a continuous bombardment of messages convincing people they’re insecure and need the right hair shampoo, the right clothing, the right exercise equipment, and the list goes on. There is the anxiety of not being the right skin color, gender, sexual orientation, religion, etc. There is the concern of being a victim of “the system” instead of being able to trust it. A culture where trust and connection have given way to mistrust and disconnection is not healthy culture.

Cultural Values

As individuals we each put greater importance on certain values. We also do this collectively including values of family, kindness, respect, financial success, materialism, modesty etc.  As Jukka Savolainen highlights in the article “The Grim Secret of Nordic Happiness” Finnish, as well as their fellow Scandinavians, often focus on modesty, sensibility, and egalitarianism while it’s is no secret Americans put more value on personal achievement, materialism, and financial success.  Values are not problematic in and of themselves. It is when people become personally attached and competitive that values in a culture can become unhealthy. Americans tend to believe that acquiring more the means to a satisfying life and that sacred word “happiness”. This is just not the case. Buddism, like many of the world’s religions, teaches that attachment to objects leads to suffering. We work long hours to have our big televisions, closets of cloths, and luxury vehicles, but we still feel empty and ready for the next “dose”. This effect is often called the hedonistic treadmill.  As mentioned int the previous paragraph, fear creates disconnection and increases self involvement. We can’t worry about the other person when we aren’t okay. This is communicated in our values as well. Civil service, community, and generosity get pushed aside for individual success, competition, and greed.

Intolerance

The tendencies for humans to divide into groups or tribes, into us and them, is part of human nature and it takes real effort to overcome these tendencies. As humans we seek easily distinguished patterns and categories that we use to identify someone as part of the in group. People in our group are people we know; we believe we can trust them.  Group selection helps to build communities churches, and national identities, however, the stronger in group identification leads to greater unity against other groups.  When we take more of a individualistic stance and work to understand our commonalities through education, communication, and exposure to those who are different can alleviate fears and build bridges between different groups. See they are just like us.  Religion, skin color, ethnicity all serve as markers of in groups and out groups. Group dynamics are exacerbated by stress often leading to expressions of racism, xenophobia, etc.  Such dynamics have had a strong presence in our culture since the founding of this country. The subordination of black men and women by enslavement was a part of this country’s foundation. States were admitted to the Union as either slave states or free states. Founding fathers Thomas Jefferson and George Washington espoused life and liberty for all but were both slave owners. Slavery was normalized in parts of this country until the adoption of the 13th amendment in December of 1865 and, despite this measure, the ideologies behind slavery and intolerance have cast a long shadow still present today. Intolerance is part of our culture. The first step would be to come to terms with this concept and discuss it openly in a way that is productive; but, facing our darker sides is painful and messy so people are more likely to look the other way or rationalize their bias in some way.

Leadership

One of the main reasons intolerance and fear remain strong in this country is that hateful, scared people more than often elect leaders who continue to propagate fear and hatred and greed as well. Recently leaders and their followers have tried to “make America great again” and “stop the fall of the Western world”. The basic problem is that great public leadership does not coincide with intolerance. In general leadership takes qualities of compassion, humility, and courage that such people often don’t exhibit. Also people who run on a platform of intolerance will most likely resist aiding the public at large as it would potentially benefit those they fear and hate. They might not even help the people who elected them. Consider the recent example of Donald Trump’s election and four years in office. He made promises he never kept like creating jobs, bullied people when they didn’t do what he wanted, and slandered people of various ethnic backgrounds, yet Congress members protected him and he was nearly re-elected. On the way out of office Trump helped orchestrate the January sixth insurrection. He convinced people to turn against their own government then left them to face the consequences. The Congressional leaders with ideologies similar to Trump continue such machinations in more subtle ways. They manipulate their supporters to some extent to stay in office while dragging down the ability of the United States government to effectively meet the needs of it’s people.

Many business leaders are culpable in this country’s current situation. They have helped fuel the culture war to hinder much needed much needed reform in oversight and regulation that allows them to advantage of loop holes in taxation, damaged the environment, and exploited workers with often legal but unethical business practices. Ill informed people being preyed upon by those in media and faith based organizations who are spreading misinformation and lies. Government is suppose to help balance to influence of negative capitalism and corporate influence, but this is near impossible when the government itself has been gridlocked.

Conclusion

Along the way I’ve mentioned potential solutions to these problems, but where we start is trust. Trust in each other. I’m not saying this will be easy. America is a nation that aspires for people of various cultures, backgrounds, and beliefs can live together peacefully.  It was dream of our founding fathers that their newly found country wasn’t ready for even back then, but my bet is they hoped it would be someday. Unfortunately, this has not been the way of human beings throughout history so far.  We unite against common enemies, but otherwise we tend to fight among ourselves.  But humans have and can evolve. Moral evolution is a big part of what has allowed us to survive.  At one time we were slaughtering other tribes and having world wars between countries. Today such things sound like fiction and with good reason.  In psychology human beings are seen as having three layers of personality: our traits, our beliefs, and our story. When these are in balance, a person can be more authentic and less conflicted. The same goes for our culture. When our traits, beliefs, and story as a culture fall into alignment we can be more authentic as a nation. Balance is key between opposing ideologies too. Those who believe strongly in individual rights and those who stand more with group identity can learn from each other. Corporate and government interests can balance each other out. Conservatives and liberals can learn from each other. It really just comes down to we have to trust each other enough to agree to this. The culture war in this country is similar to physical war in that each side must put down their weapons and start an honest discussion about what common goals they share rather than what divides them. Americans can leave behind chasing shallow expectations of big houses and big vacations and instead expect more important things like equal treatment, guaranteed health care, and fair wages. Then maybe we can be more content with our lives as they are like the Scandinavian countries and less attachments in the spirit of Buddism.

[mental-health-advice]

Submission tagged Coffee Addict

It’s okay if it takes a while for a reply I think I just need to vent. I’m off my meds (they made me so anxious and nauseous it was awful) and I haven’t seen my psych in months. My mom had a psychotic episode and went missing for five days only to show up naked at a neighbor’s. She’d already been unfairly sanctioned less than two months before so she refused to go back to the mental facility and–surprise–that’s where I went too. So she didn’t trust them anymore and I had to say goodbye to my mental health care after missing my last two appts for the same reason. I wasn’t mad at first. My last conversation with my psych was normal–he upped by dose, asked about seeing/hearing things, the usual. I was only on anti-psychotics nothing for anxiety and I was trying to see if he’d give me something and I was about to leave when I remembered ‘oh yeah, hey doc, I really want to gouge my eyes out sometimes. It’s so strong sometimes I just feel my eyeballs to figure out how I’d do it’ and I honestly didn’t think it was a big deal. I’d had the feeling for almost a year itd come and go and I obvs hadnt done anything yet. He made me get my mom (before the sanctioning incident) and sat her down with me to explain to her about the eye thing. Apparently its not that uncommon and with my family’s mental history and my own psychosis he wanted to make sure someone knew to get me help if I needed to go to the hospital. He asked me about mirrors bc schizophrenics who want to gouge out their eyes are normally also scared of mirrors and my mom was in the room and I didn’t want to admit that I think they’re a portal to another dimension. So I havent seen him since and i really miss him we didnt have long together but he genuinely listened to and believed me and I really think I just need that now. My family situation is so screwed up we couldn’t afford the meds even if we could afford the appts. With my meds gone my anxiety is normal again but the depression is back and Ive honestly come close to ending it three times in the past 3-4months. I just feel adrift. Im seeing stuff as always and hearing things but ive just gone back to ignoring everything like I used to instead of taking notes for my psych. the eye thing has gotten better and when I do feel the urge it isnt as strong as it was on abilify. rispirdome made my psychosis worse and now I think the abiify was too. I wouldnt mind going back on abilify as long as i had something for anxiety and ive already made up my mind if i ever get to see a psych again ill tell them exactly that. i dont want to stop seeing and hearing things tho if you can believe it. when my depression went away i felt lost but when my visions faded? i felt like i lost an arm. or my eyes. i was there to get a diagnosis for just what my psychosis was and now i feel like ill never find out whats wrong with me. i get tactile visual and auditory things, the eye thing was the only delusion i told him about. the relationship was very new and i didnt want to reveal how crazy i was just yet. now ill never get the chance. i just feel so alone and i dont know what to do with myself. at least im not disassociating 24/7 anymore.

Hi lovely,

I’m sorry to hear that you are struggling with anxiety and psychosis, I can only imagine how hard this must be for you. I think it’s great that you have reached out for help though, that’s such a positive step towards recovery! Hopefully I’ll be able to give you a little advice to make things a bit easier for you. 

I am not a professional, so cannot diagnose you in any way, but there are a couple of things I want to point out. Firstly, hallucinations can be caused by many things, such as a side effect of medication, a lack of sleep and nutrition, and of course mental illness. You mention that you struggle with anxiety - anxiety can cause psychotic symptoms such as hallucinations, so there is the possibility that you are not struggling with psychosis, just a severe anxiety disorder. I really recommend that you go to your doctor about this, as they will be able to discuss properly with you the possible causes and treatments for what you are experiencing. The other things is concerning your medication - because everybody’s bodies work differently, medication can be really tricky, because one medication will not work the same for lots of people. This means that it can take a lot of trial and error before you find a medication which is right and effective for you; there are many different medications that you can try that your body will likely react better to. Again, this is something to discuss with your doctor, and remember that it may take a while before you find the best course of treatment, but there will be something you can try that will work better for you - please don’t give up!

Something that may help you to separate your hallucinations from your daily life, is journaling. You could write about your hallucinations in as much detail as you wanted so then you have a permanent and clear picture of your hallucinations. You could also try writing only about the things you know are real; this could help you to keep a clearer idea of what is real and what is a hallucination and may make recognising the hallucinations easier. Anything that can help you stay more in touch with reality is really useful, so along with journaling, it might be useful for you to keep some grounding techniques in mind that you could use whenever you are beginning to hallucinate. We have a page about grounding techniques here; I would recommend something physical like running your hands under ice cold water or counting out the change in your purse, or even something like jumping up and down on the spot. Grounding techniques help to bring your focus away from the hallucination and back to reality. Is this something you feel like you could try? I am also going to link you to our self-help and calming pages about anxiety. These pages have some great tips about dealing with anxious thoughts.

You are not alone or crazy, lovely! It is completely normal to not want your hallucinations to go away - our symptoms become such big parts of our lives, that losing them can be really hard; just try to remember that them going means that you are getting better, and you always come first! Mental illness does definitely not mean you are crazy, it just means that you are struggling right now - but you can get help and live a happy and successful life. Is it possible for you to begin seeing your therapist again? If not, and if money is a concern for you, maybe web counselling would be a helpful and affordable option?

I hope this has been of some help to you, lovely. Please remember that we are always here for you, so don’t hesitate to get back in touch if there is anything else we can help you with! 

Please take care,

Rhiann xo

[bondedbrotherhood-blog]

Nothing is as it seems

written by @DocileHealer 

#Flashback2 {{Things had begun to change daily with my father, his symptoms changed, the once easy voices I could once contain were now taking control. Becoming more violent with every passing day. He simply seemed to be losing himself to his delusions, the hallucinations that haunted his thoughts. I’d come home from work to find his idea of a full course meal waiting while he ushered me inside. He was decked out in a full tux, mumbling incoherently about me late and completely under dressed. “This is not acceptable for a woman of you stature. Go upstairs and change, Elhena. I didn’t raise you this way.”. Even in my tired state I still found my legs carrying me up the steps to my room to dig through my closet for one of the few gowns I couldn’t bring myself to sell, tired limbs getting undressed just to pull it on and rush back down the stairs and check on him. Yet, by the time I made it he was going on about something new. I couldn’t keep up Now he was screaming, throwing things at the wall seconds before he threw his fists at unknown people only he could see. It wasn’t until he shouted Montrag’s name I realized where he was. I sighed and reached for my bag. His heart couldn’t handle living though this again, neither could mine. I hated stealing from Havers but it was necessary to keep father in a more docile state, a more manageable one. Reaching into the bag I pulled out a mix that I had been working on that seemed to be just enough to drug him into a restful sleep. Which tonight would mean the couch. Quietly I moved behind my father while he stormed across the floor mimicking his movements like I had when I was younger, the amber tinted liquid already in the vial primed and when he went to turn, I snatched his arm I grabbed it quickly. Not wasting a moment before I injected him and pulled the needle free, instantly letting it fall before I hugged him in tight.}} I’m sorry, maybe the sleep will help clear your mind. {{He struggled for a moment, maybe longer and cursed me out the entire time. I was the curse his wife birthed, the bane of his existence and the soul reason he lost everything. Each word cut deeper than the last, but I knew it wasn’t him saying it, it was the sickness that held his mind hostage. That was slowly eating away the pieces of him I loved. I urged him towards the couch, guiding each step while I fought the tears, shame and anger caused by his words. No matter the cause they still stung. When his calves finally hit the front of the couch, I felt him fall back, I watched as he got himself settled before I covered him with a blanket then gently pressed a kiss to his temple.}} I love you, Father. Even in moments like this. Rest now, Lusie will be here in the morning {{I only heard a softly groaned grumble of my name before I left the room for my own and headed the stairs, the roof was leaking again so I had a few things to do before I could sleep. I also needed to leave a note for Lusie, so she’d be aware of what happened tonight. Be able to protect herself if something, if my father turned and attacked. I paused for a moment shaking my head, running nervous fingers through my hair while sinking deeper into the old wicker chair. Was this really happening? He wouldn’t go that, far would he? I shook my head again finishing the note, deciding to end on a happier note and reminding her that there are a few syringes filled with the sleeping mix in the med kit. With that I retired to bed for the night. I made sure he was still asleep when I left taping the note to the outside of the door so Lusie would see it before she went inside, my fingers lingered on the door for a moment a million thoughts charging through my mind. I could go back in and dose him again, so she’d have less of a messy day. He’d be sleeping. Maybe she could pack up some of his things so I could get ready to move him into a home? It wasn’t the most ideal thing but maybe, maybe I could find a place my salary would cover? Or maybe I could work part time there as well? Work half my time at Havers and the remainder at the home? I could make it work. I had too. My head began to pound as I turned to make my way towards the car, it always did this when I started to over think like I was now. I wasn’t just making decisions affecting one life now, it was two. His and mine.}} {{I was three hours into my shift at Haver’s, two emergencies had just come in, been dealt with and I was just doing some follow up and checking one patient whose stitches had popped thanks to massive swelling. The swelling was doing a fantastic job at keeping the wound from doing more than just seeping and I was thankful. It made for an easy fix and some fancy stitching. Ever since I arrived Havers seemed to be distracted. He kept asking if I wanted more than this job, if I remembered my training when it came to pregnancy, if I wanted something different and exciting. Of course, my answer was yes, it was something I loved doing but the only thing that seemed out of my range was exciting. I liked simple and quiet. But when the questions carried on, I began to wonder if I had done something wrong. If this was his gentle way of guiding me towards quitting. I found myself doing one last round of vitals before nervously knocking on his door}} Havers? You gotta sec? {{He kept me standing there for a moment longer than I would have waited but I needed answers, simply for my own well-being and quite honestly for my father’s fading sanity. I don’t think he could handle being moved around again. We couldn’t afford it. ~Calm down, Elhena. You haven’t even talked to him yet~ Was all I could say before he welcomed me into his office, and I took a seat across from him.}} {{By the time I left his office I was both enlightened and terrified, the job he told me about was both one that I would have loved to have taken but one right now I couldn’t. His face when I said I’d have to think about it still haunted my vision, he understood the reasons why right now. Knew I needed to take care of my father before myself. I had barely turned down my street before the most unsettling feeling sunk deep into my bones, causing me to speed up just a little to get there quicker. I couldn’t shake it no matter how hard I willed it to be, something was wrong the closer I got the house the stronger that feeling grew. My fingers fumbled while I jostled the keys from my bag, I struggled even more just getting the stupid thing into the lock before I gave it a hard shove. I wish I hadn’t once I had seen what lay out before me. The floor was covered in crimson blood thicker in places where it looked like a body laid before it was dragged back into the kitchen? Or maybe the dining room? I stiffened instantly, I couldn’t move let alone breathe in this moment and I hesitated even calling out for either my father or Lusie, so I went with the basic greeting instead}} Anyone home? {{I waited all of five seconds before I moved, if either of them was hurt I needed to tend to them or call for help. I shook off as much of the nerves and terror that I could before I pressed forward in search of my family, I cautioned turning on the lights, but I needed to in order to see anything and avoid slipping in blood that seemed to cover most of our home.}} Lusie? {{I swore I heard a silent muffled whimper, or one barely over the sound of the refrigerator and I followed it. My only weapon of defense was my keys, which if used well would be enough but right now they felt like fabric between my fingers.}} {{I wish I hadn’t rounded the corner into the kitchen, I saw Lusie first her bloody body splayed across the kitchen. Contorted in an inhuman way. Her arms were slit at the shoulders so they could be folded inwards, her legs bend the opposite direction and the worst atrocity was carved into her stomach. I just couldn’t make it out, but it looked like whore or maybe they were just having trouble committing to the act? Either way I way the longer I stared the more I worried about dad and felt the urge to vomit, I still leaned in and took her pulse on the chance that she was alive. There was no time to mourn yet, the tears would have to wait and trust me they were there just begging to come. I stepped around her body and made my way through to the living room finally able to grab the gun we kept. I felt much better the moment I had it in my shaking hands. Where was father, had he suffered the safe fate? I wiped the mist forming my eyes before proceeding forward again, this house always felt so small but right now it felt massive. Each step felt like twelve, but I took the next one then the next until I found myself at the foot of the steps gazing upwards, I could feel the pull like every single fiber was calling me up those stairs. I already knew what I’d find but I needed to go anyway no matter the fear coursing through me. The sorrow grew with each step till I found myself running just to chase the feeling away, the blood here was different simple droplets at first and then it grew once I came to a stop outside my room. My palm rested against the door first then my forehead seconds later and soon the gun was tucked into the back of my scrubs as I pushed open the door. There was no stopping the tears now, no controlling the sobs once the started, my father lay half on the bed still semi conscious yet not himself in any way. His arm swung at me the blade narrowly missing my stomach but close enough to cut through the fabric of my scrubs, it scared me enough to jump back but I slipped in a blood falling back on my ass. Thankfully he was in no shape to attack, he simply cackled darkly while taking the small blade to his chest digging in. Deeper and deeper with each passing second.}} “You are a foolish child. Her death is on you.” {{That was the last thing he said before blood began to spill from his mouth, the blood from the wound in his chest pooled then cascaded down to the floor. I wasted all of two seconds before I slid across the floor, trying with everything I had to save my father’s life. First thing I had to remove from his grasp was the damn blade and I didn’t trust him, he had lost it completely and I wasn’t even here to help him. To help Lusie. This was all on me. He was right. My fingers were coated with my father’s blood, no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t make the bleeding stop. I knew I’d lost him twenty minutes before I finally stopped my efforts and dropped my forehead to his then let myself give in to the sorrow and shock that had built up inside from the moment, I saw the first drop of blood downstairs. I’d lost Lusie at the hands of my psychotic father who then took his own life all in one night. I’d lost everything and now here I was covered in the blood of the ones I loved most.}} #TBC