Sunday 3 November 2013

A feeling and a light. (a poem)

It's that time again...

Of the day - late
Of the week - Saturday
Of the month - period
Of the year - Autumn

I had a small revelation again, and again it was about my son.

I remember the last one, when I understood that it may not be my work to heal him, to make him better, and that it is not something I can do alone, it isn't something I want to do alone.

It's not about making him better right now, I feel as though I have much less control over that, as I often just don't know what to do. But I think it's about him feeling safe, safe enough to have a life back. Safe enough to go out and try it, to make friends, walk in the park, catch a train, read a book. Managing, being able to manage a little bit at a time.

Today I thought to myself, he's not going to get better as in my dream about the way I would like him to be, the young, capable, lots of friends, girls, laughs, fun, travelling, college type of better.

He is, as I read the words projected up on the wall, 'floridly psychotic' but they were happy to see that he was 'compliant' with medication and not a threat to anyone. I really don't like that word 'compliant'. It reminds me of robots and broken will.

And I feel sad, deeply sad for those who have no one, those who go through this alone. I don't want to feel sad for my son, because that feels like giving up and I see a window in a dark tower, a window with a clear, bright bulb 'ON'. And a moth dusting the air with her wings and kissing the light. I feel hope.

I don't see how it will happen, I have no image of his life to come, no flashes or clues. Just greys right now, as if he hasn't made a decision. But I have a feeling and a light bulb.