🧐AUTHORS NOTE: *** Triple stars denotes start and end of flashback or memory ***
Apparently two days have passed since Christmas Day and what they are calling a PTSD related anxiety attack at the moment.
PTSD, post traumatic stress disorder!!? Not me! I'm not in the army, how can I have PTSD?
Stupid people.... I was just overcome at the thought of going outside, the dryness of the room air became too much and my throat closed.... it was an environmental response, not PTSD..... not anxiety! I'm not weak minded, I'm strong!
I came through a nightmare with Harry and built a life for myself, a good and happy life that I love. I'm not stressed, or traumatised. How dare they question my sanity.
How do I get out of here, and what exactly is this place?
I thought it was a hospital but I've come to notice that there are no nurses around, I haven't seen anyone but for Daisy and the 2 or 3 forgettable faces who bring the cheap inedible slop that serves as food here for me to ignore day after day. I am hooked up to a drip every night to keep me hydrated which I don't care about. Daisy has said that if I don't eat by the end of this week that 'they' will have no choice but to apply to the court for a right to force feed under the 1983 Mental Health Act, something about a duty of care, I'm not sure and frankly don't care. They can just do whatever they want, I have given up. I haven't gotten out of my bed since I collapsed, not once. Not to wash, not to eat.... not to pee or poo!
I know I'm disgusting, I know that I could ask for help if I needed it, or get up alone if I tried, but I just 'CANT'. Physically I can, but emotionally... no.... I don't care enough about anything to try.
Another day, so another visit from little Miss Shinyheart! Urgh!
"Hi Sydney, how was lunch? Anything take your fancy today? Oooh, chocolate sponge and custard, my favourite!" She sings, in that genteel but ultra condescending way that makes me dizzy with rage!
I want to take her head and smash it into the pudding with so much force that the bowl breaks in half, one of the sharp shards piercing her cheek just below the left eye, which now protrudes from its natural position in her socket. I want to hear her trying to scream but in-fact making barely a sound while she drowns in chocolate sponge and custard. I want to see the lights almost go out.... almost!
*** "The best fun is to be had while she comes round".......
....... "TURN HER ON HER BACK!"
...... "AH FUCK, YEAH!!"
.... "I'M FIRST! All you fuckers can wait your turn!"
Then laughter!
Loud, raucous, coarse and spiteful laughter, no element of humour distinguishable.
It is petrifying! ***
This feeling is familiar, the paralysing fear and feelings of impotence begin to wind their way through me like the veins in my body, which feel as if they are now pumping ice water around my body. My mind, which I am finding harder and harder to control by the day, is threatening to draw the shades and turn a blind eye to my terror!
*** "NOOOO" I shriek aloud, striking out at them all as they pull me around, grip me by the hair, bend and twist me into a multitude of unnatural positions and shout vile insults and crude comments about my body....... ***
When I next open my eyes Daisy is sitting beside me staring intently at my face. Why has she changed her clothes, why is it dark? What's wrong with her face!!?
She can obviously add 'mind reader' to her list of talents because she answers 2 of those 3 very questions with her next breath.
"Thank goodness you're awake Sydney! You've been asleep since yesterday afternoon, almost 36 hours!
How do you feel? Would you like a drink, some water? Do you remember what happened Sydney?"
My last thoughts? What were they? I close my eyes and see Harrys 'Master' face, smirking, depraved and infinitely hungry, flanked by his 6 most loyal and vicious disciples.
My eyes spring open and I vomit yellow watery bile all over the bed, the warm liquid pooling in my lap as Daisy rushes to grab a cloth from my sink unit and hands it to me. I wipe my mouth and flip back onto the pillow, again closing my eyes as Daisy swiftly removes the top sheet before the fluid soaks all the way through, then replaces it with another. I have no idea where she got it from but am grateful for it.
This time I see 2 huge hands approaching my face and almost immediately I begin struggling to breathe but before the real panic engulfs me Daisys voice reaches me, patronisingly soothing, and for the first time I actually appreciate it. I bolt upright, fling my arms around her and wail.
I sob for what feels like hours, the muscles in my upper back are on fire, my head is pounding, my nose running but blocked and my throat is hoarse, such was the power of my cries. Daisy holds me the entire time, rubbing my back, making soothing sounds and telling me that I am safe, and I believe her!
I break away from her and use the cloth she gave me to wipe my nose before looking directly into her eyes. I know she has heard my silent plea when she says.....
"It's ok Sydney, I know what you need. I'm going to organise for you to see Yanni, ok. It's ok...... shhhh, don't cry again. I'll sort it out in the morning, first thing, alright?"
I nod gently and she continues to speak....
"Sydney, listen, I know that you believe that we are deliberately withholding information from you and not allowing Yanni to visit, and to a certain degree you are right, but it's not what you think. We are not trying to keep you in the dark or hurt you, we are trying to protect you, and more specifically, protect your mental health. You are almost certainly suffering PTSD, your recent episodes seem to support that observation. You are having vivid flashbacks and hallucinations too aren't you! I can see the terror on your face while you fight the monsters in your head, I recognise it, I've seen it many times. That's how I got the scratches... I'm not telling you that for sympathy or for any other reason than to let you know... you had an episode where you thrashed around, clawing out and catching my face, I'm fine, don't worry, but the more of these periods you have the more strain your brain suffers. You may never fully recover. For your sake we need to work through this, however terrifying, painful and upsetting it might be. YOU DESERVE TO BE SAFE, LOVED and HAPPY. Let me help you.
You are remembering things Sydney, things in your past that your mind chose to hide from your consciousness to protect you. Your memories were placed in deep storage in an attempt to shield your delicate psyche. Those memories are likely to be so unpleasant it will make facing them the hardest thing you will ever do, but I promise you, it will be the best thing you ever do, without question. I can help you, really I can, but I can't do it alone, I need you to engage with me.... you need to open your mind, we just need to find the right key. I need you to trust me........Sydney, I need you to talk to me" she concludes gently.
"Thankyou" I manage before a straw hits my lip and I accept the drink she has offered me. It feels wrong to be accepting help and comfort from this woman who I have had such twisted and vile thoughts about. I've judged her and although only in my head, I have also threatened her harm. What is wrong with me?
The most terrifying realisation of all? That vile and dangerous mpart of me is becoming more and more forthright in voicing her opinion, and I think I'm enjoying it.
I AM SICK!
Harry always said it, now Daisy is all but confirming it. I am in a mental hospital. Why am I locked up, and when can I Ieave? Do I need to take a test before I can leave?
Again with the mind reading skills, Daisy takes one of my hands in hers and tells me.....
"You need to work through all your past trauma, and it seems like that may take some time, but until we work out why you have these episodes, why you are lost for long periods and what is happening in your mind during that time you can't move forward and begin healing. Although the feelings of abject terror you experience feel real in the moment they are actually an amalgamation of all your past traumas, your feelings of guilt and your fears. A form of self punishment in a lot of ways, a way for your conscience to relieve itself of the heavy burden it carries. With too much stimulation your brain becomes overloaded, it just needs a rest sometimes and checks out for a while. Long periods of absence are regularly seen in those who have suffered past trauma. The lack of answers, the not knowing what happened in your own life is the reason you are in your current situation Sydney. We need to know that what you tell us is a true and accurate witness statement and not influenced by any outside factors, or an exercise in protecting others from prosecution by lying either about them, or for them! You memories could be pivotal. We need to know what you remember from that night. I can't tell you precisely what we need to know so as not to lead you, but I can tell you it will be incredibly good for someone who you care about when you do remember. I will work with your until you feel safe enough to remember. We can take it as slowly as you like, you lead, I'll follow. We will get to the bottom of this and get you back on track. You in?"
"Yes" is my simple response