Dots

Elephants

When I came home from the hospital,  I wouldn't have believed that I'd ever been gone.

Everything in the house was the way it had been when I left, though I realised, with slight dejection, that mum had hidden all the sharp objects (I could never tell whether it was because she feared for my life or her own. Possibly both.)

Mother dearest hadn't been as sly back then and her obvious attempts to constantly try paint over the elephant in the room had been conveniently effective, yet obnoxiously tactless. She managed, over the years, to make avoiding the subject into quite the skilled art form but every once in a while, she'd slip up and tip toe closer towards destroying the fragile balance that allowed us both our blissful, albeit ignorant, peace.

Now, was one such time.

"Dammit Sussex! Why can't you be normal!" Mum shouted and though the last part was a question, she'd phrased it like a plea.

"You bloody well know why I can't ever be considered normal!"I snapped back bitterly.

Mum, realising her mistake, widened her eyes and reeled in her usual composure,  "That's not what I meant, I meant that-"

"I know what you meant mum and I get it okay!" I snapped back once again, cutting her off from the bullshit she'd no doubt start sprouting.

"What I don't get, however, is why you think avoiding the truth makes this any better for us in the long run!"

"I'm not avoiding anything Sussex,  I'm just trying not to blow things out of proportion like your father did!"

We both winced once the words were out.

Dad was still a fresh wound for us.

There was silence as we sat on the table with our half eaten food and an empty space where dad should've been. I contemplate leaving the room like I usually do and waiting a few days to give us both some space to cool off but as I do, I feel suffocated by that dammed elephant and imagine it destroying the room with its big angry stomps as we refuse to accept it's presence.

"I don't blame him you know," I say finally and I don't look mum in the eyes as I carry on, instead I focus on the corner of the room where I imagine the elephant now retreating, "after my suicide stunt, I knew what would happen and I knew dad would leave but I was surprised that you didn't"
The elephant starts shrinking...

"You know I can't control the depression, it sticks to me like a shadow; always there but not always seen and I really wanted to tell you before but I was scared,"
And shrinking...

"Scared of what you'd think about the fact that I'm constantly fighting the urge to either kill myself or everyone around me because it scares the hell out of me."
And shrinking...

"You don't know what it's like being unable to control your constant changes between suicidal and homicidal, and fight of the depression without drugs because everyone's scared I'll OD again"
And shrinking...

"And I just want you to know that I love you... for staying when dad left and I know you try so hard to make me feel normal, even though I'm not, and while I appreciate that, sometimes I wonder if the only thing we're actually doing here is trying to paint this giant, aggravated elephant to blend into the walls so we can save ourselves from giving the time to actually feel anything. "
The elephant is gone.

I turn to look at mum with her teary eyes and then immediately feel deflated knowing that I'm the one causing those tears. I should be used to it but just because I'm crazy, doesn't mean I'm heartless.

Then she does something completely out of the norm;  she attacks me with this disarming hug and we both just sit there, embracing each other as we finally cry for everything we lost:

Love

Sanity

Peace

Life

Death

Happiness

And so much more.

Yet... there's this weight that's beginning to lift and the look in my mother's eyes tells me she feels the same.

Through it all in the end, I have this to say; Thank god for the obnoxious elephants that remind us what we need to say and thank god that, in time, they eventually shrink away.