I was going crazy again.
I can’t remember, but I think that this was after my stay in the mental hospital. It was okay though; I knew I was going crazy. That made me less crazy somehow. The drinking was not helping. Steve and the kids were not home. I’m not sure where they were. Not even sure if this was all in my head. The house was quiet, and I was upstairs in bed. No, I came to, upstairs in bed.
It was dark. It took a while for the room to come into focus. As usual the upstairs was a mess. Clothes were all over the place. We had a couch but you could not tell where it was with all the clothes on top of it. There was a large gas heater almost in the middle of the room, but it was off. It was summer so it was not needed.
Something else woke me. I thought I heard a noise. I sat up, listening. The noise was coming from downstairs. I lit a cigarette butt from the ashtray and looked on the table for any sign of a leftover drink. ??As I sat there smoking I could hear a scurrying. Uh oh, I thought; they were back.
I smoked my cigarette trying to build up my courage to go downstairs. As I put my cigarette out, I thought about what the noise could be. Monsters were not real. I’m not that crazy, I told myself. I remembered that Steve was at work and the kids had got themselves off to school because I was not able to help them. Not capable was a better word.
Going crazy again. Hearing voices.
Last night, I called all three of my kids upstairs. Screamed for them in a panic to come up. They looked frightened, of course they were. I gathered them to me as I lay in the bed. If they heard the voices too, maybe I was not crazy.
I had heard the voices for a few days now. It started low and rose to just a whisper. People; talking about me, saying things, calling me crazy. Saying that I should give up. I should run and jump out of the upstairs window.
I looked at my three children. “Can you hear those voices I asked? Listen. Listen real good,” I begged. They looked terrified. Not of the voices but of me, their mother. I could tell that they knew I was crazy. They were so afraid. Not of me, afraid of losing me. They could see me slipping slowly away. ??”Wait, I said, there it is again, listen, do you hear them?” My three babies have been through a lot with me but never this kind of stuff.
Tamiko looked at me with those big brown eyes. Being the oldest, she took charge. She grabbed my hand. “Yes mama, we can hear the voices too”. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or whether to get us all back to the mental hospital. They stayed upstairs with me until I passed out. Drinking was the only way for my eyes to close.
Then I was awakened by the noise…