The decision to stay or go
I seemed to regain consciousness late that night, in the small private room
we had been sequestered to. An image that will be with me forever pervaded my
consciousness, I was looking down at myself in the bed, and I remember feeling
a permeating sense of calm. It felt so peaceful to be above my concerns, as
though there were no real problems. Now, years later when I remember that night,
I’m not sure if I was dreaming or what, I only know I was given the choice
on whether or not I was going to stay or go. (Thinking about that night, now,
I can still access that overwhelming sense of calm, like no matter what, it
will be right.) There was no rush; time seemed to have stopped, as if it had
no meaning. I never saw any bright lights or a tunnel, yet I felt I was not
alone, as though I was surrounded with something that was all encompassing,
it’s hard to describe the peacefulness I felt, the tranquillity. I was
nothing by myself and I was part of something much bigger than myself, within
the realization I saw two paths before me. I knew this cessation of turmoil
was temporary, I guess I could have enjoyed it longer but as always I rushed
the experience.
I have a mental image of myself looking down at my parents and my husband, all
uncomfortably asleep slumped over in the chairs, waiting to ring for the emergency
doctor, when/if I stopped breathing. The tracheotomy kit beside the bed, where
I lay asleep, I wondered if, or how, they would get by without me. (it’s
amazing my ego fit into the room). I had a sense they needed me, probably couldn’t
get through this without me. I thought about all the effort they had put into
keeping me alive to this point and I came to the realisation that I hadn’t
really done anything towards my recovery yet except to approve or disapprove
of the different treatments that had come along.
It had been a challenge and a game so far. It hadn’t really hit home.
Now, in this endless moment, I actually felt that if I chose to leave I would
be letting them down, all their ceaseless efforts, and I couldn’t go.
There were no incites into the future, I wish there were, no visions of what
I would go through, just a need to stay.
I later would remember feeling uncomfortable, guilty, but that was later, after
I had woken up. I held onto this guilt for years, every time I went into a ‘poor
me’ mode, or depression, I would feel this self-righteous blame. I would
feel that I had only stayed around for their sake and they should be more appreciative
of me. Of course I didn’t think this in so many words, but underneath
it all, it was there.
Finally I was able, through a combination of life’s experiences and counselling,
to come to an understanding of who I was. What I had gained through what I had
been through. What I wanted now, and that I have always been at choice. Even
recollecting that night where I was busy blaming my parents and my husband for
taking the choice away from me, I was really making up my mind to carry on,
to follow where my path would lead me. I just didn’t want to take responsibility
for it all the time.