The war of 2am…
At 2am Martha is awake, moving, muttering and turning lights on. This meant at 2:03am I am awake, moving, muttering and following the lights. After I yell for a minute or two to try and get Martha back to bed I concede, get up and find her on the couch. We both sit in the bright lights of 2am, disillusioned by life. Martha fully immersed in her delusion while my brain starts to flood with thoughts of frustration, work, life, love, stress, career, study, travel, the list continues to grow with every moment that passes us by at 2am.
‘Mum, mum, let’s go back to bed. Its 2, we need some sleep’ I plead..
‘I don’t know, I can’t find her, I just can’t find her, I don’t know what to do, we will have to call the police’ She replies to her delusion…
We play this game for 15 minutes, I talk to her, I plead, I beg. She responds to her delusions, concerned and worried.
I stand, my brain begins to war with itself. To medicate or not to medicate. I find the medication the doctor prescribed ‘just a bit of a break, for Mum and you’ they said, I cut a sleeping tablet in half. The noise of water rushing from the tap at 220am startles Martha from her delusion. I have mere moments to get her back into bed before the delusion steals her from me again. I push the pill and a glass of water towards her, ‘Drink’ I demand. She stands, I rush her up the stairs, into bed for what seems like hundredth time that night, but actually is just the 5th.
‘It’s time to be quiet now Mum. No more talking.’ I whisper to her, stroking her arm.
I can see her eyes move under her eye lids, the need for her mouth to keep talking.
‘Mum, just try to relax. It’s ok, it will all be ok, you just need some sleep.’
Her body softens, her mouth opens slightly, the sweet embrace of zopiclone and exhaustion have taken over her body.
‘I love you Mama’ I whisper and kiss her hand.
My words, my actions, my gentleness are so far removed from what I want to say, from how I feel. It’s 230am I am exhausted. I want a night of sleep that is uninterrupted by worry and delusions. I want a day, a moment, a slither of my past life where all I was, was selfish, self centered. In this moment I want my Mum and Dad again, I yearn for moments in time where I was the child and Mum and Dad were just that, Mum and Dad. My mind spins, I close my eyes. I begin to repeat four simple phrases;
Please forgive me
I love you
I block out all other thoughts, I repeat, urgency in my repetition, I need this, I need my own forgiveness, I need my own thankfulness, I need my own love. Sleep takes me away and the next time I open my eyes its 8am.
I hear Martha’s chatter. I kiss her forehead.
“Try get some more sleep, it’s been a long night’
The day has begun.
‘If you let it, it’ll be cruel to you, if you let it in, it’ll be magic!’