Monday 19 March 2012: happiness to devastation......
I was still receiving lovely,congratulatory comments regarding yesterdays photo long after devastation had set back in.
K was due to stay overnight.
He came home,and as my photo showed,he was coping well.We all were.We had our dinner,we were relaxing and having fun playing a game.And in the blink of an eye,K was gone.
It really was THAT quick.None of us saw it coming.
He became aggressive,towering over us as we sat on the sofa,screaming at us.He said he wanted to kill himself,he wanted us to die too.He demanded we phone his keyworker...which we did.
He then proceded to say that his dad had punched him and was about to do so again,and that I had said he didnt deserve to live and I hated him.He said I told him I didnt want his present and had thrown it away in front of him.
He said he would try again to kill himself.
At that we advised Ks keyworker that we were bringing him back to the unit.
Tom left shortly afterwards,with Alix and K.....and I stayed with a very upset Ruari.It was only then that he showed me the contents of his pocket....the carrier bag they had been given in the corner shop when they had gone to buy a drink together......Ruari had been too frightened to put it down in case K used it to commit suicide.
Tom and Alix managed to safely get K back to the unit,and came home,where we all sat in deafening silence.
I realise that Tom and I are seen as a strong couple,and that we are very lucky that we have a close and loving family network.I also realise that there are good times in our lives.But I wonder how much longer we can "hang on in there","keep our chins up" and "count our blessings" when we are so worn out and spread so thin that we are almost transparent.
My heart goes out once again to my children who witnessed the events of yesterday,and who struggle on a daily basis to come to terms with the trauma we are having to face.
And to K,so lost and seemingly unreachable in his lonely world at times.Please come back to us.
Something rose in me that felt exactly like grief, that throat-closing, heavy longing for the irretrievably lost ... -Goldberry Long, Juniper Tree Burning