breakdown - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
I had for so long been the only source of positivity, of warmth and emotional comfort. I had for so long taken the brunt of cruel outbursts designed to bring my self esteem to zero, to shatter my sense of self worth. After that I was expected to rebuild all the relationships from all sides, to make any sacrifices necessary and then recreate the positive atmosphere... still against that critical and cynical wall of sneering superiority that has become a woven part of who you are. So that I had a breakdown, that I shattered into a person barely capable of surviving is on you, and the credit for rebuilding myself belongs to me. And now I move onwards fully able to choose to be with positive and giving people, with those that are truly good for me.
If breaking is hard, recovery is worse. After the emergency room, after the stripping, the drugs, the rooms with no handles... come the doctors with their clip boards and looks of consternation. Gone is the looseness of the mind and the yawning chasm that is mental illness lies ahead. Once perhaps you were "daughter," then "wife," then "mother"... now you are "crazy" and required to be medication compliant. The drugs fog the head, bringing on a haze where thoughts go nowhere and even the emotions are dulled.
The panic starts like a tightening of the chest, as if the muscles are trying not to let another breath in, but instead to die. Then the breath comes, shallow, lungs unable to move much against the suddenly heavy ribs. Then my mind becomes as static, thoughts making no sense, replays of horrors once forgotten. Before I know it I'm sitting on the floor, limbs unwilling to work at all.... That was years ago, before the breakdown, before someone told me they loved me without boarders and my mind broke just for hearing the honesty in their voice. How could they say such a thing when my mother never could?
The breakdown is a slow moving train wreck at first. Danny notices the weight loss first but I can't recall trying to diet. He asks when I last ate and I don't know. My appetite had just gone, like a switch had been flicked. He tells me to eat, makes an overly large sandwich and passes it over. I want to eat it, to prove that I can but it won't go down and no amount of forcing it will help. Danny gets angry, "Eat!" Then the vomiting starts, but just that bite, there isn't anything else down there. I see his face, panic. "Eat!" He thinks I'm faking and so I take another bite just to repeat the gagging. I feel the fear build... none of this means anything good.
I remember the tears, the difficulty to speak, choking out the words, "It's so hard to break." I felt my mind as it snapped some more. "I'm too little and I can't reach the phone," my voice faltered some more. "The girls aren't safe..." Every word was alien and I never knew what would spill out next. My head was a box of long ago dusty junk tumbling into the light, forced by an unseen hand...
I am someone... or at least I was. Today instead of being in an office I wander a ward in a gown, no clothes allowed. They say I ran in the street shouting for help, fearing demons no other person could see. I'm not trusted with a pair of scissors, not allowed to choose when I eat or what the meal might be. My every word is scribbled on a chart. So this is a breakdown, this is what I was warned of so many times. "Slow down" they said, "go for a walk and breathe the air," but I never did. Now I guess I have to, what else is there to do but stand at the window and wish to stand on the grass that is so near and yet so far?
At first there was silence. A misty haze upon the horizons of my mind. That's were I kept everything, in my mind. That was until now. I could feel the hard painful lump in the back of my throat as the tears began to form. Slowly my breathing hallowed itself and a small but intense pain struck the top nerve in my head. Before I knew it there was shouting , they were mine, yet they seemed so distant. Tears streaked my face. Time had fast forward. I couldn't remember the briefest of moments, all I saw was my own bloody fist, my tear stained blouse. I even recognized my own voice repeating, "I can't take it anymore."
I feel it break. Like a crystal vase falling onto a marble floor my last shred of normalcy shatters into a million pieces. They lay on the floor glittering in the sun, who knew breaking down could look so beautiful. I know there is no hope in trying to put them back together, so I don't even try. I just lay there staring at the blank wall "I'm done." I whisper to myself. I've reached my limit and now I'm just done.
Her remaining thread of strength frayed before breaking completely, sending her plummeting over the edge and into the darkness. Hysterical sobs shook her thin frame, threatening to tear her apart from the inside. She fought to reclaim control over her body, shocked by the sounds escaping from deep within her chest.