A Caged Lion

With a growing skepticism about my decision to have myself committed, we exited the elevator onto the second floor, stepped out and walked forward down the hall passing several doors on our way. There were offices and meeting rooms on either side of the hallway and at the end of the hall were two sets of double-doors. The ones to the left were the entrance of the substance abuse ward and to the right, the entrance to the psych ward, neither of which held much comfort as we approached. In the middle of the two sets of doors was a room encased in plate glass which was used as the security station for the floor. From there the staff and security could see clear down the hallway to the elevator and stairway as well as the entrances to all of the offices and visitation or meeting rooms. The floor was very well laid out and didn’t allow much freedom for movement outside of each of the wards. By that time I was seriously questioning whether or not I had made the right choice.

As we approached the doors to the psych ward there was a nurse watching as we walked up to the door. She had mousy brown hair in a shoulder length bob, about 5′ 10′ and skinny. As I walked to the door she looks at me and smiles, with that I was not nearly as threatened as I was but I still remain guarded. ”Hi I’m Cathy” she said as she held a clipboard against her chest, “Hello” I muttered. I was barely able to look up at her in fear that I would break down and make a fool out of myself. ”I’m going to be taking you to show you your room and we’ll sit and talk for a few minutes.” Around the nurses desk where we were, I turned around and behind me was the main area where everyone would come to sit and visit with their family, have coffee or watch TV. Several other residents were scattered through out this area and of course, all of their eyes on me. I turn to Cathy and said, “Guess everyone is curious about the new guy huh?” She giggles a bit and tells me, “You will be sitting in those chairs wondering the same thing they are before you know it.”

I wasn’t sure where my mind was at that point but I knew that I was absolutely wiped out. Cathy grabbed a small pink plastic tub and then she and one of the male attendants followed us down the hall to my new living quarters. Once in the room she laid her clipboard as well as the pink tub on one of the beds in my room, evidently the bed that was to be mine. She then tells me in somewhat of a cautious voice, “I have to ask you if you have anything sharp that you might be able to harm yourself with.” I can’t say that I was surprised at the question and then she went on, ” I need to ask you to empty your pockets and take off your socks and shoes.” I was somewhat intimidated as the attendant was watching like a hawk but I proceeded. ”Mark is going to just do a light body search just to make sure”, she said. ”We have to do this for everyones protection.” It seemed a bit much but judging by some of the patients I saw upon my arrival I could see why they had to be so cautious.

Once they were done with their search and seizure of any “sharps” as they liked to call them, Cathy asked if I needed anything. Unfortunately what I wanted was to be home but I knew that wasn’t a possibility and I began to tear up. No sooner had I raised my hand to wipe the tear from my eye my doctor walks in. It was so nice to see a familiar face after having been patted down by the male attendant and made somewhat to feel like a criminal. ”Hey I see you settled into your room, how are you feeling?” he asked. ”Doing okay, just a little tired,” I said. There was an awkward moment of silence but he never looked away from me and smiled at me the entire time. He then explained to me that he would see me 3 times a week and that my therapist would be in twice a week to check on me and for regular therapy sessions. ”You will be very safe here and I know that you will do well with your treatment. Is there anything I can get you before I leave? Do you need anything for anxiety or sleep?” I was sure that I probably wouldn’t need any help falling asleep but was naturally a bit on the anxious side. I never even had to tell him, he automatically knew and said, “I’ll prescribe something for you right away and they will bring it to you soon. There is no pressure to meet anyone here, you take it at your own pace. If you need anything just tell the nurses and they will call me.” He walked out the door, I laid down on the bed and cried myself to sleep.

It was about 6 in the evening when I was awakened by the nurse to alert me that it was time for dinner. Since it was my first night, dinner was delivered to my room to try and make the transition easier. The less people I had to deal with right away the less anxiety I would have. There was plenty of time over the next few days for me to become acquainted with everyone in the psych ward. After eating dinner in my room the nurse returned with my medications for the night and to take my vitals as they would end up doing every night. I really didn’t know what to expect next as I had not been briefed on what our daily schedule or rehabilitation would consist of so I was kind of figuring it out as I went along. It was the first night however so I figured that the first couple of days would be spent in orientation mode.

Later that night, I woke up screaming and drenched in sweat again. The man that had been haunting me in my night terrors had made his return to torment me some more. The staff had already changed shifts and the new attendants came running to the room. ”Are you okay?” asked Carl, one of the night staff. ”I’m okay” I replied trying to catch my breath. ”Just bad dreams” I told him. ”Must have been a pretty bad dream, you need something to sleep?” he asked. I really didn’t want to spend all of my time in the hospital doped up so I said, “no that’s okay I’ll be fine.” He walked out the room and I laid back down but the image of this man continued to stalk me and I couldn’t go back to sleep. We were not confined to our rooms at all, we couldn’t go any further than the main meeting area or “living room” but thankfully were at liberty to sit and watch TV and have a cup of coffee if we wanted.

As I walked into what I will call from here on as the “living room”, I was surprised to see that I was not the only one that was having a hard time sleeping. There were about 4 others that were wandering the hall or sitting watching TV or having coffee or a smoke. I was greeted by a very friendly woman, a face that I had seen briefly upon my arrival, one of the patients. She was a short woman about 5′ 6″, not heavy but not thin, big eyes and very large smile. ”Hi I’m Tracy” she said as she mixed her coffee with a stir straw. I introduced myself as well and said, “nice to meet you Tracy.” She looked as tired as I felt but her smile was the warmth that I so badly needed being in such a cold and lonely place. ”So what are you in for?” she said. I kind of chuckled at the question because it sounded like a typical jail or prison line. ”I’ve been having blackouts and lost some of my memory in an accident last year”, I said. I felt kind of stupid proclaiming that to a total stranger because to this point I had not been very honest with my own family about it. ”I have been having flashbacks and just having a hard time dealing with them, what about you?” She looked at me and smiled, then kind of looked away as if embarrassed about her reason and said, “oh I’m just having problems with my husband and needed a break.” I couldn’t do much but smile at her but I knew it was just her way of saying that she didn’t really want to get into it. I respected her privacy and figured that it would only be a matter of time before she would come clean.

We sat for a few minutes more while I had some coffee and got to know each other. She began pointing around the room to fill me in on the residents that were up and about. ”Thats Vikki over there” she whispers, pointing with her eyes to this frail, tiny blonde haired woman with dark circles under her eyes that was sitting with her feet on the chair and her arms wrapped around her legs holding her knees up to her chest, rocking back and forth. ”She’s been here 2 or 3 times, cant’ sleep at all and won’t eat.” My heart went out to her and I began to think that maybe my problems weren’t all that bad. She looked so fragile that you could snap her like a twig, very unhealthy and very withdrawn as if she had just given up. ”And over there”, she whispers again and points, “that’s Fred, he’s in for depression, he’s had problems being gay.” Fred was a much older man in his fifties, tall, thin with a white moustache and was balding. I could certainly empathize with him although we were not at all close in age and could only imagine what it was like to be gay in the time of his youth.

We were nearly done with our coffee and as she put out her cigarette she turned and said, “well honey, I’m gonna try and get back to sleep, my Ativan is kicking in.” I realized at that point that medications were going to be a big player during my stay as I had seen patients being given pills at the nurses station. ”I’ll see you in the morning”, Tracy said and then walked down the hall into her room. It was nice to have made an acquaintance so early into my stay and I no longer felt like I was the only one in the world that had issues that I needed to deal with. Tracy had befriended me with no expectations and I knew at that point she would be a guide of sorts to help me get through this orientation period. I said goodnight to the nurses and went back to bed in anticipation of my next night terror and what the next day would bring but overall, my spirit had not been broken and I kept the will to move forward in the long journey ahead of me.

The Aftermath

It had been one week since the quake in San Francisco and every night after that was very difficult. Sweaty and shaking, I was awakened constantly by night terrors about the quake and I wasn’t getting much sleep because of them. I still had not heard from Jim and I couldn’t help but to wonder if that maybe had I begged and pleaded for him not to go, perhaps we would still be in Oceanside safe and sound. I was filled with so much grief and guilt that it may have been my actions that had created so much chaos in so many lives. My days were filled with anxiety and I found myself nervous and pacing all the time. My legs would tremor when I sat and I could do nothing to control it. I was having one panic attack after another and each worse than the one before.

By that time, I was only seeing my therapist once a week and when he found out that I had been having so many anxiety issues and not sleeping, he suggested that I see him at least 3 times a week and then alerted my psychiatrist who then prescribed something that would help me sleep. That night after picking up my medications I went home, had dinner, took a pill and settled down for the night. Within 30 minutes, everything began to blur and before I knew it, I was out.

Somewhere in the middle of the night I abruptly woke to someone with their hands tightly clenched around my neck. I was kicking and trying to catch my breath but I was having such a hard time with the weight of what seemed to be a man on top of me and then slowly, it becomes harder to breathe. I began to kick harder and started swinging my hands trying to get him to loosen his grip and finally I open my eyes, take a deep breath and I start screaming. Trying hard to catch my breath I continue to swing my hands but there’s no one there, I’m completely alone. I had probably the worst night terror yet, so real that it was hard to believe that it wasn’t actually happening.

That night was so disturbing that I had to see my therapist right away to find out whether or not this was a normal side effect of the medication that I had been prescribed. I was visibly shaken and he could see very well that my mind was either going to shut down or that I was going to snap. ”I think that you need to consider checking yourself into the hospital” he said, because he feared that I would do harm to myself but I managed to convince him that I was okay. There was no way that I was going into a hospital after hearing stories of how they treated people with mental disorders so I did my best to pull it together to avoid being involuntarily committed.

For the next few days I did all that I could to keep myself together but it wasn’t an easy task especially around family. Usually I just tried to read a book or would sit and watch TV when I could. My sister Deena, who I was staying with was working quite a bit and when she wasn’t working was spending time with friends. From time to time I would take walks around the apartment complex where we lived, but I was usually so anxious and paranoid that I just didn’t want to be out or away from the apartment for too long. I tried to isolate myself from my friends and family to avoid any triggers of more memories that would knock me down every time I was around something familiar. My mind just didn’t know how to process all of this information and every once in a while, flashbacks came in the form of nightmares similar to the man choking me while I slept.

All I knew was that I had to hold on until my therapist and doctor could finally find a way to get me out of the spokes of this spinning tire I was trapped in. Looking back to that time I felt as if I were watching a movie that was stopped and restarted randomly not having a clarity on where the story was at the time. The memories had no schedule of their arrival nor did they wait until I was ready, it was like a baby ready to be born.

On Halloween night, Deena decided that she was going to go to a party with some friends. She had asked if I wanted to come with her but I just didn’t feel like socializing. Unfortunately my condition had started to affect me socially and I just couldn’t handle being around people without feeling total anxiety. I just wanted to be alone and her social calender on that night allowed me that wish. She headed out the door somewhere around 9pm and as she was leaving, I told her to be safe and then she asked, “are you sure you don’t want to go?” Part of me thought it might be good to let go for a while but I said, “no that’s okay, I’m just gonna stay here and relax.” She walked out the door and I closed the door behind her.

To complete shock and dismay I awoke with my head in my mothers lap at her house. Dazed, I looked around trying to understand how I had gotten there, I began to panic. “It’s okay, lay still” my mother said. ”You’re home.” She was rubbing the back of my head and I remember how good it felt. It was like I was a kid again and she was trying to put me to sleep by rubbing my head. I started crying, “what happened? How did I get here? What am I doing here?” Mom was visibly shaken that I didn’t have any idea of what had happened and she herself started to tear up.

“Deena said she came home and couldn’t open the door all the way. You were passed out and were blocking the way so she couldn’t get in.” I was completely oblivious, I couldn’t remember what had happened, “What time is it?” I asked. ”its 8:45″ mom said. ”At night?” I asked. I was so disoriented and feared that I had either lost more of my memory or had done something horrible to myself. ”No its 8:45 in the morning” she said. ”I went to go pick you up and you walked yourself to the car and then inside the house when we got here, don’t you remember any of it?” I couldn’t remember a thing, no dreams, no sounds, no flashes absolutely nothing.

I had taken all I could take and after realizing that I had lost nearly 12 hours and could not recall anything after closing the door behind my sister, I finally gave in. I got up from the sofa and told my mother to take me to the hospital. The fear of not knowing where I was, where I had gone, what I may have done to myself or someone else during my blackout was too great. I could no longer put myself or my family, mainly my mother, through all of this pain and uncertainty. I had to fix what had been broken over a year ago, I had to fix me.

Mom called my doctor and told him that we would meet him at the hospital and fortunately he was already there. When we drove up to the front doors, some of the staff were already waiting and walked outside to greet us. Two men, fairly large and dressed in plain clothes with name tags approached and I remember feeling terribly scared that they would put me in a straight jacket. Behind them walked out my doctor, dressed in a black double breasted suit, a very colorful tie and black leather boots. He was a short man around 5′ 5″, thin with dark hair, almost a mullet but usually had it slicked back. He actually looked like he could have been in the mafia but had a very warm disposition, a very trusting man.

He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “how are you doin? You okay with this?” At that point I was beginning to doubt it, but knew that I either go through with this and find out or I continue going down the destructive path I was already on. ”I’m good” I said. The two men in plain clothes escorted me and my mother through the doors. Just beyond those doors was another door of metal and plate glass in which we had to buzzed in. Once through that door we were greeted by a nurse and led to an office where I sat down and was given a quick evaluation. As the nurse was taking my vitals, she looks at my mother and says, “don’t worry, he’ll be fine here.” I looked at my mother, saw the tears swelling in her eyes as she looks over at me and it nearly killed me that she was hurting so much for me, ”I’ll be alright”, I told her, “it’s what I need to do.”

Once the nurse was done with her evaluation it was time for me to go to my room. Visitors and family were not allowed in the ward or in the rooms with the patients on their first day or their first week after checking in. So right there and then, I said goodbye to my mother and it felt as if it would be for the last time. I broke down in tears as I started to walk away, my mother, trying hard to hold back her own, finally broke and all I could do to keep from completely breaking down was to keep walking down the hall until finally I walked through a set of double doors and could no longer see her anymore. Once again, I was alone.

An Earth Shaking Revalation

In September of 89′, nearly a month after my “coming out” party, little by little Jody and I started to talk less and less. Partly from the hurt that I was sure she was feeling and partly because I didn’t know what to say to her. She had asked me if I had wanted to separate and of course I was still in love with her but at the same time, was having strong sexual feelings for men and without a doubt, I knew that it wasn’t fair to her. I needed to make a decision but didn’t know where I would go or what I would do. I had very little option and going home to Texas just didn’t seem like a good one.

One day after coming home from work and settling in for the day, Jody asked if we could talk. Dreading the “talk” I had no choice at that point but to say yes. She started talking about the day we met and how she knew that this relationship was special. She knew that it would change her life forever but didn’t understand in what way until now. ”I have no regrets about us or anything that we have done or where things are now” she said. Tears started to form in her eyes as she continued, “I knew that at some point I was going to have to let you go and I just couldn’t bring myself to do it but I see how much you are suffering without having to make these kinds of decisions.” I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach and it was gut wrenching to have to watch her drag these words out into the open. ”I prayed that we could find a solution to this and I’ve cried every day since my birthday.”

I felt guilty enough about it already, but I owed it to her to sit, listen and swallow it no matter how bitter the taste. ”When I was showering the other day I noticed that I was bleeding from down there” she said. ”I got scared and aunt Lynn took me to the doctor for a check up.” I know that by that time my own blood had completely gone from my head because I was getting dizzy and nauseated but I held it together. ”I lost the baby” she blurted out as tears rolled down her cheeks. I had never felt so defeated as I did at that point. What had I done to this poor girl. Look at the pain and suffering that I had brought on with all of my issues. I felt responsible for not just ruining her life, but I was also guilty of the loss of life, my son. ”It was a boy” she said and then she started to cry harder.

I pulled her close to me and put my arms around her and said, “I’m so sorry…I’m sorry about everything, about ruining your life, about making a fool out of you to everyone.” Jody was so unconditionally gracious and proved at that point why I fell in love with her and once she started to settle and the tears slowed turned to me and said, “This isn’t your fault, everything happens for a reason and when I prayed for an answer, God was listening.” Jody had a strong faith in God and understandably so having been molested and abandoned by her parents. ”I asked him what to do and this was his answer and I have to accept it” she said. “This was the only way that I can find the way to let you go so that you can take care of yourself without having to worry about anything else.” I had no choice at that point but to accept things the way they had happened and to move on. We said our goodbyes to each other, I packed my things and the next day showed up at Mel’s doorstep and told her that I needed her help.

Mel didn’t really have a choice but to open her door to me once she found out all that was going on. I’m sure that she felt in someway that she was partly responsible for my being catapulted into a situation that was bound to end up in chaos. She was as gracious as she could be and her girlfriend, tolerant at best. It was just until I could figure out what my next step was going to be and in the meantime I could get my head together and continue with my mental rehab. During this time Jim had made regular trips from Fallbrook to Oceanside to see me as well as cart me back and forth to my appointments. He had more of a presence after my break up and I’m sure was much more comfortable that he didn’t have to really hide his feelings or who he was.

In October, nearing the one year anniversary of my near fatal accident, Jim came to me to tell me that he could no longer live his closeted life in Fallbrook and decided that it was time for him to move on and said that San Francisco would be the perfect place for him to be who he knew he was and wanted to be. ”I want you to come with me” he said. ”I think this would be the perfect place for you to get your life back together and I will be there for you.” I really didn’t know what to think at this point being that I had just lost quite a bit in this last relationship. ”I won’t put any pressure on you I just want to be with you and make sure you are okay.” Jim had that special way of making you believe that everything was going to be okay and it usually was. I was beginning to be very comfortable with the idea and the thought of getting away from everything here and start fresh once again. ”Okay, lets go” I said to him. ”Let’s get the hell out of here!”

We had planned our drive to San Francisco to arrive around Monday October 16th and began to make arrangements to stay with some friends of Jim that had moved there for college after graduating from high school. We were both very excited and understandably a bit nervous of not knowing exactly what was ahead. Excitement and nervousness, however, were not the only feelings I was having. Settling in were the feelings and perhaps, doubt, that maybe this wasn’t the right move. Something in my head was nagging at me leading me to question whether or not this might be the best solution. I ignored them though and pushed forward with our plans.

In the mean time Mel had been questioning whether or not I should return home to be with my family and that perhaps my therapy would be much more effective being surrounded by family and friends. I thought maybe she was a bit jealous and was trying to sway me so that she would no longer have to bear any of the guilt from the past or possibly the future. She at times insisted that I should go home but she was not the most likely person that I would listen to for advice considering everything that had happened when I arrived in California.

A few days later I received a phone call from my mother in Texas. We had always had a very strong connection and having a mothers intuition, she knew exactly when I was going through a difficult time and up until now, I had avoided her phone calls or any contact with her or my family. This time, that feeling was tugging at me and I had to take the phone call. ”How are you doing Robert?” she said. ”Mel called me a couple of days ago and told me what was going on and that you are planning to move to San Francisco.” I wanted to KILL Mel for calling my parents and informing them of all of my plans. I was furious and could not believe that she would betray me knowing that my mother and I had such a strong bond. ” I don’t think its a good idea and we really want you to come home.” She went on to tell me that she had already gone to the airport to purchase my ticket to come home and that all I had to do was get to the airport.

What was I going to do? I had already made plans to go with Jim and he would be crushed. I had become so comfortable with him and in my mind I was ready to go. I could not imagine at this point not having him in my life since he has always been there for me and he knew everything there was to know about me, but still, my mother was asking me to come home and I had a hard time resisting. I told her that I would think about it and let her know and I hung up the phone. Afterward, Mel and I had it out and argued for a good hour about her betrayal but she insisted time and time again that she was just doing what she thought would be best for me and finally, I gave up for the sake of argument and left the apartment to clear my head.

On the evening of October 10th, the one year mark of the accident Jim and I met to talk about our plans. He said that he had wanted to sit down with me to make sure that what we were doing was what I wanted to do. ”I know that you are going through some stuff and I told you I always wanted to be there for you” he paused, “but I don’t want to take you away from your family when you are starting to remember things about them.” I started to see in Jim’s eyes that he had more to say than just that. ”I’m afraid that we are going to get to San Francisco and you are going to start to remember everything and will want to leave and go back to Texas to be with your family and I don’t know that I could handle that.” He started to cry and I knew that he had not completely said what he came to say. ”I would rather let you go now before we have made a life together than for both of us to be completely crushed later down the road and make it harder for you to go home at a time that you need it the most.” Unfortunately, the crush came much sooner, I was devastated but I wasn’t going to beg or plead for him to reconsider. I simply kept in mind what Jody had said to me days before, “Everything happens for a reason.”

On Sunday October 15th, Jim came to say goodbye to me at Mel’s apartment. After sitting with him for about an hour he got up and said, “It’s time for me to go.” The time had finally come and it seemed as if this huge chapter in my life was coming to a close and that I was losing a piece of myself. ”I’m not sure that I can let you go” I said. ”But I know that I can’t go with you but you know where I will be.” He looked at me, cupped his hands around my face and said, ” I will always be with you, I love you.” The tears came fast and furious down my cheeks and he wiped them off of each side of my face with his thumbs. ”You’ll only have to call me and I’ll be there” and then he kissed me. I couldn’t help but to weep and wondered if this would be the last time that I would ever see him. He got into his car, pulled out of the driveway, stuck his hand out the window and waved, and just like that, he was gone.

The next morning, Mel drove me to the airport and by that afternoon I was on my way back to Texas. By evening I was back home and had decided that I would stay with my sister instead of at my mother’s house as she was busy raising my 2 younger siblings and thought it would be less distracting if I had a bit more peace and quiet. The following day I made arrangements to go see a therapist that my mother had been referred to for me. I was a bit nervous having to meet this new doctor and try to catch him up on everything that had happened over the past year. It was going to be a long process but the only thing I could think of was, “did I make the right decision?” I spent most of that day having to re-live the accounts of the past year as I was forced to get them out and begin to deal with them and of course, thinking of Jim.

On the morning of October 18th, I went to visit my mother. I wanted to catch up with everything that had been going on while I was away and of course wanted to fill her in on everything that had gotten me to this point. That was cut short however because when I walked into the house, she was sitting at the table, in tears. She seemed to avoid telling me why she was so upset and I had figured maybe that she and dad had gotten into an argument as at that time in life dad had his own demons that he was dealing with. ”Did you and dad have a fight?” I asked. ”No” she replied. I pushed further as she folded the newspaper that she had been reading and turned it upside down on the table. ”Whats wrong then, why are you crying?” She fumbled with the paper a bit more and by this time she said, “I don’t want you to get upset” and finally, handed me the newspaper. As I turned the paper over and read the front page headline, my heart completely stopped.

On the evening of October 17th, 1989 San Francisco had suffered a major earthquake leveling freeways, buildings and leaving behind a trail of devastation to the city. My first thought was of Jim and whether or not he was okay but at that time cell phones were very new and only the rich could afford one, there was no internet or “Windows’ so the only way to communicate was through a land line telephone or snail mail so there was nothing I could do but wait for him to call me to tell me that he was fine.

The other thought in my mind was that I realized I would have been there and perhaps dead, had Jim not made the decision for me to come home, had Mel not interfered with my plans, had my mother not been so insistent on my coming home and had I not heard the words that Jody had said when she told me that she had mis-carried, “Everything happens for a reason.”