Bent But Not Broken (9 page)

Love,

Abigail

 

 

CASE FILE #2794 ABIGAIL LEE MANUS D.O.B. 02/04/1998

ENTRY 32: 22/05/2014

I opened the session with, 'How do you feel about being in with Suzy?'

'It's great!' Abigail answered with enthusiasm.

'What makes it so much better for you?' I asked. That got the patented teenage eye roll. I waited.

Eventually Abigail said, 'It's good having someone to talk with. And being able to read after lights out is fantastic!' she effused.

'I am glad that you are happier,' I said. 'The isolation room really is like a cell, isn't it?' I added. She looked at me as though I was trying to trap her in some way.

'It's okay, Abigail. I am simply saying that it is a more normal situation for you. I think you had a good idea, asking to go in with Suzy,' I added.

With this, Abigail stared at me long and hard. I could see that she was thinking – but about what, I have absolutely no idea. I hope that she is beginning to see me as a caring adult, not someone who is in her world simply to give her grief.

In the six weeks that Abigail has been in the ward she has progressed from a very damaged and unstable girl into one who has formed healthy relationships; shown empathy for the plight of others, and capable of leading the group. It is time to start to lead her into addressing her suicide attempt and its underlying motivation. Without this, she will be frozen and unable to deal with her trauma. This will be a difficult and painful process for Abigail.

As expected, Suzy asked for her individual sessions to be relocated to the library. She clearly was concerned that this might get Abigail into trouble, and tried so hard to make it sound like it was her idea. Of course I went along with this little subterfuge. To date, Suzy's only access to the library has been once a week in the care of an orderly. Now they both can read what they want, as late as they want. Again, another small step towards normality for them both.

Dr. Harry Nightingale

 

 

 

Dear Crystal,

Doctor Hobbit started our individual session today exactly where I did not want to go. He asked me why I flipped my shit in the art class.

I had been wondering about that too. I guess George destroyed everything we had. I know I have to tell. I won't get out of here until I do. It's just that I don't know how to start. It's all twisted up in my head like barbed wire. And it hurts. I remember how it went when I first said anything. I don't want to risk it again. I'm scared if I start to tell, I'll lose it.

I'm not even sure about everything that happened. Some things are as clear as crystal (not trying to be funny here.) With the stuff I remember so well, it's like I'm watching a video with me in it. Or sometimes it's like looking at photos. Snapshots, but not in any order. Like they've been tossed all over the floor. I can see each one, but not how they go together.

With the stuff about George, it's like being in the middle of a big grey cloud. I can't see and I don't want to feel. I think it would be better if it was all just left alone.

I told Doctor Hobbit how tight we three were until George married Mum. Okay, we were not rich. I don't remember Dad much, so I suppose you don't either. But I do remember the horrible little house we had to live in after Dad left. I was such a bitch about having to share a room with you. I was really pissed off that the house was so small we had to get rid of a lot of our stuff. I was embarrassed to bring kids there after school because we no longer had our real home. And I hated that Mum went to work instead of always being there for us, like before. Looking back now, I can see that Mum was doing her best. Not that I was nice about it. No way! I was a real cow. I remember hearing Mum quietly crying at night, when she thought we were asleep. I was young so I figured it was my fault that she was so unhappy. I tried to be better – but I guess I was just too pissed off to be much help.

The way I saw it then, one minute I was a kid in a good school with a mum who did everything for us, and the next I was expected to do jobs around the house and look after you. It was really unfair. You were too little to do much, so I felt like it was all down to me all the time. I really paid out on Mum. We fought all the time. She would yell at me for not doing the dishes or something, and I would scream that it was her job, not mine. You cried a lot and got that skin rash. I was pissed off about that, too. Mum was always saying we didn't have the money for new clothes and stuff – but she had the money to drag us around a bunch of doctors trying to get your skin fixed.

One night Mum asked me to stay up with her after you had gone to bed. I figured she was going to give me hell, like always. Instead, we sat at the little table in the kitchen and she talked to me. It was the first time she talked with me like I was a person, instead of a little kid. She told me that she had to work because Dad had gone to Queensland, and was not ever coming back. She told me that she needed my help. That this was our new life. Of course, I was a selfish brat and told her that I hated it.

For the first time, I understood that Mum was sad. Not that it stopped me from ranting about having to leave our home and live in a dump. I bitched about leaving our good school and our friends behind.

Mum said that she had to work or we wouldn't even have the dump to live in. Of course, I spat about that too. I liked that Mum used to come to our school and do stuff. I liked that she was always home when we got back from school each day. But what I really hated was that I had to do housework and look after you. Pretty selfish, but I was only in grade four – so it was all about me.

That was when Mum told me that we were on a big adventure. She said she thought of our dump as a ship, and we were going to sail away together – a bit like pirates. I thought that sounded good. Then Mum said every ship needs a captain. How would I feel about being the captain when she was at work? This did appeal to me. You know I've always been bossy. So it suited my nature. But I wondered if it meant that I still had to do jobs and look after you.

Mum explained that we would be captains together, and share the work and the fun. She said that we could draw up a roster of jobs for all of us, and that as a captain she would need me to help decide who did what around the house. So we did. I don't know if you remember, but we split the jobs up so that I didn't think that I was doing everything. You just kind of went along with what we decided.

That's when Mum and I stopped fighting. Every night after tea she would sit down with me and discuss ideas for the three of us. She showed me the money tin on top of the fridge, and we'd count it together. We'd discuss the treat that we were saving up for each month. That's how sometimes we got to go to the heated pool in winter, and have chips on the way home. Or we would go on the train into the city and look at all the shops and the people rushing about. Do you remember how much you loved the trams? We always had a tram ride when we went into the city. One of the best adventures took three months of saving. That was the time we went to Luna Park and stayed after dark. I loved that one!

Mum was pretty smart with the captain idea. I liked being in charge. I guess it appealed to my assertive nature. I liked that Mum talked with me like I was able to understand. Not that I did, really. But it felt good. Each week we would have a "crew meeting", Mum called it. We'd talk about our jobs and see if they needed changing. You got easy stuff like feeding the animals and emptying the rubbish bin. I had to wash the dishes. That was a learning experience! Until then, we had a dishwasher. At least I didn't have to dry them. Mum got a bit naughty herself while we were in the little house. She told me that she used to be so fussy about everything being so clean and tidy. She told me that she had to let a lot of stuff go – like ironing our school uniforms. I suppose being at the new school helped because we didn't have to wear shirts, just the school tees and windcheaters.

Looking back now, I reckon it was probably the best time for us. We were free to play in the bush with our new friends. They didn't care that we were poor. We just had fun that wouldn't have been possible in the 'burbs.

I liked the new way with Mum – how she included us in discussions about what our next adventure would be. Remember how we talked and talked about getting the chickens? We went to the library together and worked out which breed to get and what we would have to do to look after them. Then we had to work out how to build the chook yard from scraps we'd scavenged from the hard rubbish. We sat at the kitchen table and drew up plan after plan for the chook yard until we all agreed on what we could do with what we had. Then we spent weekends with our mates building it so the foxes wouldn't get them. When it was finally built, Mum got the money tin down and we counted it together. You were so disappointed that we had to wait a few weeks 'till we had enough to go to the chook farm and choose the chooks. When we did finally get there you were so cute, sitting in the big barn, patting all the chooks. I think you would have brought them all home if you had your way!

I suppose those years – my grade five and six – were my best time. Mum made being poor fun. She would always let our mates come round on the weekends, and have adventures with us. Like the time she let all of us sleep on the trampoline we'd been given. She kitted us out with torches and left us to it. What a great night that was! We stared at the stars and talked rubbish. Until it got too cold. Then we snuck into the house like bandits.

Do you remember the time we helped Mum collect all the sticks and bark dropped by the gum tree until there was a huge pile? We were allowed to have our mates over for the bonfire. We helped make the damper to cook on sticks. It tasted terrible and was burnt black on the outside and raw on the inside – but we didn't care.

And how she would drape the table and chairs with sheets let us camp out in the living room? We felt we had made our own world.

I can see now why our mates loved coming to our place. Yes, it was small and it was a dump. But somehow Mum made it all fun.

The only time I really felt poor was at Christmas. The cousins always got so much stuff, and we got so little. At least Mum never bought us clothes for Christmas! That would have been the pits. I have to give it to Mum, she was tuned in. She got us a bike each our first Christmas in the new place. At first I was embarrassed because our mates had such great bikes, and ours were so obviously second hand. I knew they had been repainted. Yours was red and mine was blue. What Mum had really given us was freedom to muck about in the bush with our mates. Smart move.

Being in here, with so much time to think, has made me see things differently. Listening to the girls in group, I realise that we had it good – before George. They had money and cleaners and stuff like new phones, and they still were unhappy. Okay, they had some serious shit go down for them. But I guess what I am saying is that I am trying to look back and hold onto the good stuff. I now know that what I really want when I get out of here is to be with you and Mum. Please tell her I love her. You too.

Love,

Abigail

 

 

CASE FILE #2794 ABIGAIL LEE MANUS D.O.B. 02/04/1998

ENTRY 33: 23/05/2014

For the first time today I got the sense that Abigail was preparing herself to open the floodgates and talk about what has happened to her. She laid the ground well – spending the whole session talking about the major change in her life after her father left the family. These included a move from her school and a major downgrade in socioeconomic status. At the time Abigail clearly resented all of this. The way her mother incorporated Abigail into this new, poorer life was inspired. It fed Abigail's need to have control, and allowed her to take responsibility for her younger sister.

Abigail described these as the best two years of her life. How the abuser entered the family will have to come soon. I know that Abigail does not want to discuss this next stage. But she must. Without the scrutiny that I can facilitate, Abigail will not be able to examine, and so disempower, her trauma.

Dr. Harry Nightingale

 

 

 

Dear Crystal,

I've spent a few nights in with Suzy. It's great! We can read as late as we like, and often jabber away just because we can. She's really smart and funny. She's also making me look at some things differently.

I asked her if she felt she was getting better. She said she thinks she is. Although we're not allowed to discuss what we talk about in our individual sessions with Doctor Hobbit, (rule one thousand and something!) Suzy has told me a lot of what they have talked about. She makes it sound like he understands and actually cares about her. Dunno. My jury's out on that one.

She reckons he's made her understand that her anorexia and bulimia are not really about weight. Okay, it started there. She said she really did believe that she was fat. But what she thinks now is that it was the only way she had to get some control over her life. She thought that if she lost some weight she would have friends at school and at netball.

Suzy said that Doctor Hobbit has made her realise that there wasn't anything wrong with her in the first place. He's got it into her head now that she is intelligent and wants to do well at school – and that is why the kids turned on her. The fat tag was just an easy weapon for them to use.

It surprised me that Suzy has taken this on board. Doctor Hobbit must be very persuasive – or persistent. Well, I know he's persistent. He's like a dog with a bone.

Suzy told me that she now thinks that she actually is worth something. She was talking about going to a new school and finishing her Year 12 and going to university. I reckon she's plenty smart enough. She says she wants to become a shrink so that she can help girls like us.

I told her I was worried for her, going to a new school and all. But she said it would be fine because she wouldn't care if the kids didn't like her. It's not like she ever had friends at school anyway. She was going to be on a mission.