My Michelle.- Complete Story!

Chapter 51 - Desparation

A few weeks after this, Rose became increasingly concerned about Michelle. She was distracted, quiet and withdrawn. Life, it seemed, was a struggle. Her behaviour became …odd, erratic. She began staying awake at night, but hiding away from the rest of the family during the day. The children were confused and scared. Rose, desperately worried, tried to speak to her but was given nothing in return.

For Michelle, sleeping had become impossible. Recurring nightmares of the whole incident, seeing Paul lying in the middle of the road, his life blood pouring from him, filled her nights. The words of the doctor, as he described the full extent of Paul's horrific injuries, echoed constantly through her mind. A deep yearning hole had opened in her life. That hole, once filled with the warmth and love she shared with Paul, was now filled with a sense of loss, bewilderment, sadness and guilt. Guilt because she had survived when he hadn't. She felt as though she had nothing left to live for.

Michelle recognized the signs for herself. The demon of depression she had once defeated, was slowly taking over her life again. In desparation she made an appointment for the doctor. Her GP was no longer Richard, as he had since retired back to Scotland, only to be replaced by a young “no-all” whom Michelle detested and avoided visiting. Her visit was, as she expected, a waste of time. The doctor kept his reputation for being abrupt and unhelpful. He ignored Michelle’s previous history of bouts of depression and told her to “find a hobby to keep busy and then she wouldn’t miss her hubby.”

That night, as her family slept, loneliness and isolation swamped her. She knew couldn’t go on like she was anymore. She wanted to be with Paul and there was only one way that could happen. Sitting silently in the kitchen, she slowly drank her way through a bottle of whiskey. Then, reaching for a bottle of strong pain killers, she began to swallow them one by one, waiting for the concoction to numb her pain. Tears poured down her face. Sobbing for the further pain she knew these actions would cause the children, guilt absorbed her. Then, despite the alcoholic, drug fuelled haze starting to envelope her, Michelle knew she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t put her children through the loss of another parent. Suddenly, she felt as though Paul was with her, willing her to stay with the children, to protect them from further pain and heartache. She fumbled for the phone and dialed the first number on the call list.

“Hello.” The voice was sleepy, confused.

“Help me.” She whispered.

“Michelle?”

Suddenly the person on the end of the line was alert, awake.

“Help me…I’ve done something stupid. Help me…I don’t want to die anymore.” She started to sob softly.

“Michelle, talk to me. What have you done?”

“Taken things – pain killers, too many… and whiskey.”

“Where are you?”

“In the kitchen. At home. I’m scared.”

“Stay on the line. I’m going to ring Rose”

The sounds of dialing then a short conversation permeated the fog in her head. The door of the kitchen flew open.

“She’s here Mike,” said Rose. Rose knelt in front of her. “Michelle, what have you taken? Tell me NOW!”

Michelle pointed to the whiskey bottle and the pill container on the table. Rose said something to Mike then hung up. Immediately she redialed and phoned for an ambulance.