Just Another Day in Mental Health

There was something different about this one. She had been outside the office door a minute again and I had laughed at her random bursts of singing. I wish I could take it back now. She wasn't lost in space and time. She knew exactly where she was and what day it was. If you asked her, she would tell you. But if you left her alone with her thoughts, off she went. She would start reciting prayers and then launch into church songs. Perhaps it was the only release she could find. Maybe she knew God was the only one that could help her at this point.

Julianne* had surrender in her eyes. She was being hospitalized. She was being evaluated by the mental health department. But she needed to protect her son. She needed to protect her life. She needed to fight. But here she was. Considered unstable she had been put here by her family. Her older sister sat next to her. Periodically tears would run down her face out of sheer defeat. Her sister was in pain and yet nothing could be done.

Julianne started telling her story. She went off the rail when conflicts began between herself and her husband and in-laws. Apparently her husband had had a wife already. One that the family considered more appropriate and necessary than her. Julianne had been married for two years now. She was 23. She has since had a baby boy. She believes her in-laws tried to poison her son to get him out of the way.

She hasn't slept in weeks. Sometimes she felt like she was having hallucinations. She was drowning in her own reality. Someone had hurt her. Someone had threatened her whole life, her son. She needed to fight. She needed to summon the power that society had stripped from her. But all she had control over was her prayer. And pray she did.

*In the US I would be incredibly careful about confidentiality and protecting real identities. There is literally no concept of that here. Hence why I feel I can tell you this story without encroaching on anyone's desire for privacy.



There is a rare, or perhaps too common, moment for anyone who works with serious situations, where giggles take over. I remember this happening at Ele's Place. We would be discussing life and death and the giggles would begin. To an outsider it looked insensitive, but it's a coping mechanism. And a necessary one. So after the very emotional intake of Julianne where I was trying very hard not to cry, in came Colette. First - have you ever seen that arcade game where you have to smack the frog with a mallet after they pop up? You don't have to hit them hard. But your reflexes have to superb to hit them all. It's about speed. Colette was playing some kind of frog game, except instead of frogs she was slapping people's faces. She would slap as quickly as possible whenever anyone came within an arm's reach. It was like watching a five year old who honestly didn't mean to be cruel. They just slap, slap, slapped.

Colette made a grand entrance in handcuffs with the local defense on one side and her aging father on the other. As a thirty year old, mother of three and perhaps malnourished farmer, she had some spunk and excellent reflexes. I really didn't think she was being cruel until she tried to kick her elderly father in the butt when he exited the room. Thank goodness for local defense. They are like our local police.

So I had to giggle. I just had to. Colette was ridiculous. The whole situation was ridiculous.