A few weeks ago, I was watching her and something, or someone, pushed her too far. I noticed that she was showing intense alarm. She leaned forward and began to scream. She let out a quick hiss, and then it was sudden: full scream! No effort to keep the tears at bay or to hold down that shrillened voice. Her eyes were open, but there was no way she could see.
When I took her out of her room, she said, “I want to go to a hospital.”
I said, “Did someone hurt you?”
“Yes. I don’t know.”
I picked her up and sat next to her. With a severe level of anxiety, she went to the balcony and then back into the room again, pushing herself forward and then put her arms around me as if to say, “I’m so scared.”
I took her out of the room and into my car. Suddenly, she was screaming a lot louder. Her eyes were not open, and I was afraid that she was about to grab me.
“Do you want to go to the hospital?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Are you seriously suicidal?” I asked.
She said, “Yes.”
We drove straight to the nearest emergency room. She cried and cried and continued to scream for about 15 minutes. I lay on top of her and would not let go. She kept saying, “I can’t do this anymore.”
I told her that I was sorry, and that I would never hurt her again. I said the hospital would do everything in its power to help her, and if that wasn’t enough, I would have her transferred to a psychiatric hospital as soon as possible.
But she wanted to go back into her room and I was afraid that her anxiety would return and the words “I can’t do this anymore” would come back to haunt her.
When I got home, she told me that she didn’t want to stay at the hospital any longer.
At first I felt devastated, but then, just two days later, she just disappeared. It was like she had fallen back into the normal, isolated life that had been her.
In that moment, I realized that although I was losing her, I was also gaining her. She didn’t seem to be afraid to die anymore, and she was able to laugh and relax.
The fear disappeared, and so did my growing anxiety.