Authors: Sarah Ann Walker
This pain is for all I ever wanted and for all I'll never have. These are my tears of agony and loss.
==========
When I wake, it's nearly noon. The floor has been cleaned and new flowers are beside me. My head is pounding, my eyes feel dry and swollen, and my throat is scraped raw. I need to sit up and take a drink. I need to rise and shower to wash away all this misery. I need to function again.
"Would you like a drink of water?" I
knew
he'd be here.
"Yes, please." I croak.
"You sound terrible. Lunch will be here in a few minutes. Did you want to shower before we eat?"
"Yes. I'll just be a minute. Thanks, Mack."
"No problem. I'll be in the hall," he says smiling while handing me a plastic cup filled with ice cold water.
"Thank you Mack, for everything,
always.
" I whisper as he leaves my room once again.
Mack knows I like to shower after every particularly difficult session, or upset. I don't know why I have to, and Mack doesn't question me or even explain it; he just knows I
need
to shower and he always gives me the time alone I need, and he accepts it.
I like to think my need to shower it as simple as me enjoying the scent of my vanilla-jasmine, though I'm sure there's some deeper meaning behind it. Regardless, I always have to rise and shower whenever things have been intense and painful.
Whenever I have cried hard, or whenever I have panicked fully, I have to excuse myself and go shower. Sometimes right in the middle of the painful conversation, I leave to take a shower. It's a little odd, I think.
Actually, I seem to remember there have been days when I've had like ten to twenty quick rinse-off showers in one day. That seems a little obsessive, no? Huh. I didn't realize just how much I shower here. I should ask Mack if it's normal behavior for someone like me.
After another quick rinse off shower, I dress in my standard blacks, and keep my hair pinned loosely to my head. I remember the first time Mack saw my hair down. Mack had this lovely look on his face, while kind of shocked by my hair, I think.
For one split second I remember feeling nervous of his reaction. I was scared he would be
attracted
to my hair and then to me or something, but he wasn't. Mack just smiled, said my hair was beautiful, and then continued talking as if it my hair was pinned up. I remember the instantaneous relief I felt knowing I was still safe with Mack.
Walking out of my room, I spot Mack immediately by the nurses’ station talking to Kayla. She is so gorgeous with her black hair and dark brown eyes, and her long, stunning eyelashes which every woman would kill for. Kayla is tall with an average body, but somehow on her, the average body looks killer sexy. Maybe it's her height that makes her look great, or maybe an average body IS just right on her, I don't know. I do know that she's gorgeous, and I think she's finally making headway with Mack.
Seeing me, Kayla says something to Mack who turns with a shrug and a cute little boy grin aimed at me. Kayla gives me a wave and a smile as Mack walks toward me with our lunch. With his back to her, Kayla signals a very enthusiastic thumbs up, smiling from ear to ear. I can't hide my return smile and nod to Kayla, even as Mack raises a questioning eyebrow toward me.
"I'm not telling you, so forget it," is all I say as Mack pouts.
"Fine. I'll feed you, and then maybe slip you some meds... Whatever works, whatever I have to do to get you talking."
"You wouldn't dare." I scowl. "I could have your shrink badge revoked for misuse of your position and prescription pad, quite easily you know."
"You wouldn't dare," he scowls back, "I could have you committed to a padded cell for the rest of your life, quite easily
YOU
know," he says with his most smug face.
"Dammit. You win. Will I ever have the upper hand with you?"
"Oh,
Christ,
I hope not. You're insane, remember?"
Bursting out laughing, I push open my door, and hug Mack from the side. Wrapping, my arms tightly around him, I just breathe in
my Mack
. His comfort and strength has gotten me through some of the worst days of my life. There is nothing I wouldn't do for Mack, and thankfully, after all these months talking with him, I'm pretty sure he feels the same way about me.
Sitting down at our little corner table, Mack begins pulling out our lunch. It's still warm enough that I see steam rising from the styrofoam. I love styrofoam meals; they're usually greasy and yummy, and thankfully Mack and I only indulge in these kinds of meals once or twice a week, so I don't get too fat. Usually we only indulge when I've had a particularly stressful day.
"Cheeseburgers and fries? Is this because I've already had a wretched day? Or because my wretched day is going to get worse? Yum, by the way." I can't help smirking.
"Both, I think. This morning was hard for you, I know. I was in the corner while you sobbed for over an hour..."
"What? You
were?
"
"Yup. And today is just going to keep
sucking,
I think," Mack says deadpan.
"
'Sucking'
is that from the newest psychiatric compendium? Or an older addition?" I ask dryly.
"The newest addition of course."
"Of course. Um, can I enjoy this greasy yumminess before I have to delve deep?"
"Certainly. I wouldn't dare spoil a delicious cheeseburger. Just relax and enjoy your lunch."
Uh huh.
After eating in a comfortable silence with Mack, I finally crack. I hate a comfortable silence with Mack. I hate any silence from Mack. I think that's why we work, there are rarely silences that I
have to
fill. If I'm quiet, Mack starts talking, until I'm talking again. So far, it’s always worked with me. I wonder why he's being so quiet today.
"What's wrong? You're never quiet unless we're watching TV. Just tell me. Look, my cheeseburgers finished and I couldn't eat all the fries anyway. Please Mack, just tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's
wrong.
I'm just trying to think of the best way to get through today. Sometimes I need to think too, you know? I'm awesome, but even
I
need a minute once in a while."
"You
are
awesome, Mack. Just tell me what you want to- it's okay. I’m okay."
S
tanding, Mack collects all our styrofoam, the empty cans of soda, and the used cutlery. Dumping them in the garbage, Mack walks into my bathroom, which he rarely does, as I listen to water suddenly running. I'm starting to get really,
really
nervous now. Mack isn't acting like himself at all. This is weird, and upsetting. I hate this, but I wait for him to return. If Mack is acting strangely, than something must be bothering him, so I should give him the same courtesy he always gives me when I need a minute. I
know
that, but I’m just so nervous I can’t help shaking.
Exiting the bathroom, Mack motions with his hand to join him in our chairs. Once I'm seated, Mack releases a long exhale, something again, he never, ever does.
Oh, shit.
This is going to be really bad.
"Okay. So first things first; you scared me this morning. I felt like you were pushing me away, and I felt like you were on the edge of hurting yourself again, though I wasn't sure of the means this time. I do understand, and even recognize that once in awhile you need time to yourself to digest whatever we've discussed. And that need for momentary solitude is quite normal under the often stressful circumstances you find yourself in. And that is why I always encourage you to take your showers to have your momentary time alone…
“…But never before have I watched you become so taken with your despair. And never have you pushed me away so completely. Well, never since your
actual
suicide attempt. I was very frightened this morning, and though I'm not telling you this to upset you, or to further burden you emotionally; I do need you to understand that you too, are very important
to me
, and I don't like the feeling I had this morning.”
Before I can speak, Mack raises his hand to silence me, as he continues.
“Within minutes of me being late, you were ready to shut down completely, and within minutes of that, you
did
shut down, effectively shutting me out at the same time. Again, I understand that there are times when some of the more graphic details we discuss upset you and you need time to collect yourself, but you have never outright pushed me away before as you did this morning. And coming on the heels of your confessed suicidal thoughts surrounding my ‘hypothetical death’, you, well... essentially,
scared the shit out of me..."
Oh!
"I'm sorry Mack," I whisper.
"I don't want your apologie
s
… What I want is an assurance from you that you will never again go there. Now, I realize asking you to promise me that you won't have suicidal thoughts is fairly ridiculous and impossible, but what I'm asking from you, is an assurance that you will not follow through in hurting yourself. I want to hear you promise me that no matter what happens, what we learn together in session, or even if something happens to me, like,
my
death
- I want you to promise me that you will not attempt suicide again. Period. A kind of life-long contract between us."
"Um... okay."
"
I mean it!
I want you to promise me that you will never again attempt suicide. Promise me!" Holy
shit!
He sounds really mad at me.
"Okay, I'm sorry. I promise. It's just...”
"Listen to me. There is no
it's just
, there is no
‘back-out clause’
, no
buts,
and no anything else. This is it. Period. I want you to say it, and mean it, and know that for the rest of your LONG life, you promised me, your friend Mack-
ME-
who would move heaven and earth to help you- I want you to promise that you will never again attempt to commit suicide- no matter how bad it gets, and no matter how hard it is to continue some days. I have never asked anything of you ever, except for your honesty, and I have been here for you continuously, but this-
this
I'm asking. I want your promise to me,
right now
." Exhaling again, Mack looks simply exhausted.
"Um, I promise Mack. No matter what happens, no matter how hard it gets, and no matter how badly I feel, I won't attempt to commit suicide again. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, I was just overwhelmed this morning. It just hurts so badly sometimes, the pain and memories are like an agony that won't stop. Please don't be mad at me," I beg on a whisper.
"I'm not
mad
at you, I'm
scared
for you. There's a huge difference, a difference I'm sure you can't understand at this point in your life, and in our relationship as doctor and patient, and as
friends
. I understand that you have never had anyone you trusted before to simply care for you, therefore, it's an alien concept to you. But I do care for you,
deeply
. I love you dearly and I will help you always, but this love and care must go BOTH ways. You have to give to me as well, because that's what people who care for each other do. YOU promise you won't do anything to hurt yourself, and I promise I will do everything I can to help you not
want
to hurt yourself. Do you understand what I’m saying to you? Do you understand what I’m asking
?
”
Mack is so agitated; I can see his hands shaking on the table top. Reaching over, I take his hands into mine, squeeze them gently, and make eye contact as I promise him I won't do anything to hurt myself, ever again.
Mack stares at me forever, then finally exhales, pulls me into his arms for a tight hug, and thanks me.
This is such a strange feeling for me. Mack seems so sincere, and for once I just
believe
in someone’s sincerity. I believe Mack loves me, and wants me safe. I believe him completely.
This is so foreign for me but suddenly I feel warmth all around me and
inside me
for this special man.
‘My Mack’
, my friend, my doctor, and someone I can count on not to hurt me, ever. With tears streaming down my face, I feel happiness
and relief and trust
in this moment, for the first time in my entire life.
"Oh. And I’ve agreed to a date with your 'New York Kayla."
Smiling, I whisper, "She's a very lucky woman, Mack," as I hug him tighter.
"I know, but maybe you could remind her for me later." I can hear Mack's smile-voice again, though I can’t see it.