community mental health team clinic waiting room

anxious, i’m early.

also waiting to see shrink

acquaintance not friend

we exchange greetings.

we were in a support group

years ago. she. me

she and i fell out

over religion and truth.

civil only since

unhesitant she

leans towards me and whispers,

“remember barry?”

i remember him.

we were close once years ago

when life was awful

when marriage crumbled

when my bipolar illness

went wild, unstable

when i joined the group

where i met her and barry

where i shared my pain

my deep dark secrets

similar to their secrets

empathy at last!

scared of rejection

meeting only empathy

true understanding

peer-to-peer support

sharing our stories of woe

helping each other

rapport, not pity

acceptance and real support

i’d made a few friends

true friends who still are

except barry - we lost touch

many years ago

we had connected;

more in common than others.

sexual abuse

both abused as kids

by family friends.

forever broken

forever fighting 

flashbacks, nightmares, living hell

fighting with traumas

bro-and-sis-at-arms

late night early hours epic chats 

battling depression

addictions we fought

alcohol and drugs to numb

all-consuming pain

strengthen each other

power of positive thoughts

strength to carry on

i cared about him

loved him a lot as a friend 

i was not in love 

i rejected him

he wanted more than just friends

we drifted apart

“yes i know barry”

her eyes light up in delight

i know it’s bad news

she knows she’ll hurt me

she knows his new partnership

had truly crushed me

remember her glee

in those days telling me news

of his joy with ann

barry had moved on.

hurt, though i had not wanted

to be his partner

i could not bear it

being friends when he’d moved on

love i denied me

he could have waited

waited till i was ready

for loving once more

maybe. i’m not sure

i loved barry as a friend

maybe never more?

she smiles gleefully

bursting with bad news for me...

she leaves me to stew

bursting with bad news.

of course i think suicide

what is worse than that?

i think suicide

so many - too many - friends

dead by their own hand

tears well in my eyes

feel a little dizziness

dread floods my body

he had tried before

so have many of my friends

so have i - 2 times

had ann split with him?

young pretty single mother

who had loved him so?

had that been the straw?

the camel’s back had divorce,

abused as a kid,

no contact at all

with his children, poor barry…

had he killed himself?

“he’s been arrested.

say he’s been fiddling with kids -

his own included!”

my blood molten lead

my unquiet mind noisy

frozen, paralysed

insomnia chats

with barry all those years ago

condemning paedos

how once people know

they suspect you might be one

how that’s bad logic

we all know the stats

most paedos were victims too

most victims don’t abuse

could this thing be true?

could barry be a paedo?

could this thing be true?

i’m a single mum

was it my kids he wanted?

i want to throw up

she leans in closer

“he fiddled his girlfriend’s kids”

i then do vomit

spew in the plant pot

of the massive money tree 

sat on the table

some specks miss the pot

land on mental health leaflets 

on the table too

feeling very sick

receptionist runs to help

takes me to the loo

i start to flashback

utterly helpless and weak

detaching from real

heart palpitating

unable to breathe at all

helpless and hopeless

foundations shaken

complete trust betrayed again

horrors of the now

phantoms of the past

intensify my feelings

horrified right now

receptionist gone

returns with the duty nurse

i try to self-soothe

unsafe and broken

duty CPN helps me

breathe and tap and calm

grounded and calmed down

“what triggered this attack, hun?”

asks the duty nurse

i reply firmly,

“don’t want to talk about it.” 

she nods, pats my back

“you’ll see doc em soon.

will you please tell her and gem?”

gem my lovely nurse

i nod my reply

not ready to speak again

not at this moment

duty leaves me calmed

i splash water on my face

dry my tears and brace

brace for my return

to the waiting room and her

gloating nasty her

she smiles at me, smug

“clinic is running quite late.

are you ok jen?”

i nod. “just the shock.”

i want silence from now on

i don’t want to talk

i don’t want to hear

another word from her lips 

making my world worse

she shows me her phone

news article confirming 

the horrific truth

inexorably, 

unable to not read it

dreadful, evil truth

barry, my barry

my confidante and my friend

all those years ago

in a brief moment

all of my love for him - gone!

memories seem lies

he seemed genuine

he seemed hurt and kind and sweet

he is a monster!

same as my monster

the monster who haunts my dreams

haunts some waking hours

my secret monster

who had also seemed so nice

“loving” in secret

the monster who lied

who said i was a bad girl

who said never tell

people would hate me

i turned a good man very bad

i’m an evil girl

i’m a succubus

demon whore from satan’s hell

tempting a good man

our catholic guilt 

my monster gave only me

carried thirty years

suicide attempt.

lots of therapy at last

my secrets came out

i learned i matter

i learned that i am enough

i am good enough

learned i deserve love

learned that i was not to blame

for my monster’s “love”

some things have happened

things which should never happen

they are not my fault

my monster tricked me

he lied and he deceived me

i should love myself

i try to let go

i try let go of my past 

it won’t let me go

she is called at last

i hand her phone back to her

“thanks,” i say. i lie

i am not grateful

she destroyed my faith in men

in humanity

i check myself then.

she did not do that. he did

barry the paedo

my vomit has gone

so have the damaged leaflets

i cry. don’t know why

of course i do know

i cry for trust’s destruction

i cry for the kids

i cry for the kids

that barry has made like us:

broken forever

i feel i’m useless

should thank the receptionist

know she cleaned my sick

but i can not talk

just sit in silence and cry

falling tears, no sobs

at last she leaves

my turn to see shrink and nurse

they are so concerned

i am in a state

worked myself up in the wait

i don’t want to live

not in such a world

not where they cannot cure me

only treat symptoms

not in living hell

of my post traumatic stress

compassionless world

compassionless world

she knows my past and hurt me

knew the news would hurt

doc em and my nurse

arrange for the crisis team

to visit at home

leaving the clinic

i kick the chair she sat in

In the waiting room