Sarah Vaughan is Not My Mother: A Memoir of Madness (24 page)

BOOK: Sarah Vaughan is Not My Mother: A Memoir of Madness
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I walk around in circles planning what to do. The voice tells me whom to see and visit when I get back to Wellington, one of those people being a lawyer. I realise I will be all right as long as I get out of Dunedin. I have been released from Wards 27's care into Ashburn and once I have run away from Ashburn I won't be legally required to go back.

I walk up from the stream and go to my room, trying to look subtle and hoping no one is noticing. I see everyone coming out of their last group. Susan comes up to me and says “We have our round-up of the day now.” I decide to sit through it, despite my excitement at leaving and getting out before I am hooked in by the place, develop friendships and get into the routine. I don't feel I would be any better off waiting here three months, even though a bit of comfort could be good after being in the ward so long. If I stay I may never realise my dreams.

When it becomes my turn to speak in the circle I don't know what I'm supposed to speak about, so I say, “Oh, I just hope you have all had a nice day and I wish you all peace.” They smile at me and I think to myself, what a load of shit I speak.

They go around the circle to the last person, Daniel, who is a member of staff. I remember Daniel from last time. He talks about his day and looks at me and welcomes me. When the chat's over, people hang around and talk. I go out and have a cigarette. A few people come out and they talk to each other. I don't try and join in.

When I go back in everyone's heading for dinner. I decide not to change my clothes until just before I leave. I line up and smile at people. I'm starting to get euphoric on the knowledge I'm getting out of here almost legitimately. I serve myself some vegetarian lasagne, which I'm happy about. I eat very slowly and look around the room.

A woman sitting beside me says, “It's very nice, isn't it.”

“Yeah, it's great,” I say. “Best meal I've had in ages.”

I get seconds of the lasagne as I know I will be walking a long way tonight, and then I get a bowl of cheesecake and eat it in my room, just to rebel because I know you're not supposed to eat in your room.

I take my bowl out and put it in the dishwasher. It's starting to get dark. I change into my warm black trackpants and warm thermal top and hoodie. I put my cigarettes in my bag and take out my books and put them in the bag Waris gave me. I'm guessing they'll send it once I'm gone. I then realise that if I go out with my bag on my back it will look as though I'm going somewhere, so I put down my backpack and put on another hoodie that has a zip. I put my passport, eftpos card and cell phone in a pocket of the hoodie. I check I have everything and I leave my room. I see a queue for the meds but I don't worry: I'm out of here.

 

I walk down to the stream and follow it out of the grounds. When I hit the footpath I walk in the shadows. I figure from memory it's about a forty-five-minute walk into the city. When night starts hitting, I cross to the other side of the road so I'm not facing any police cars if they've been called. I walk up a steep road that has three lanes going one way and three lanes going the other. Just as I get to the top of the hill and start descending I see cop cars with sirens on heading up the hill. Luckily I'm on the other side so they can't get me. I don't know whether they were looking for me, but given that I have just escaped they may have been.

Seeing the cops has raised my adrenaline and I start walking very quickly. I start seeing churches on the hill so I head down those streets until I hit George Street, the main street in Dunedin. I walk down George Street, head into a Thai restaurant and ask to use the bathroom.

I check what I'm wearing to make sure I look normal. When I've tried to escape from institutions other times I've worn costumes that drew attention to myself, things like turning my jeans inside out and drawing on them, and wearing T-shirts over my hoodie and a scarf on my head. Once I got picked up by the police for looking Muslim.

I look in the mirror and straighten out the hoodie situation. I leave the restaurant, continue down George Street and plan my next move. I don't want to hang around the city all night because I may get picked up by the police, so I decide to hitch as far north as I can. I head for the edge of the city where the motorway is. On the way I drop into a service station to buy some Coke and smokes. If I have to walk I'll need energy.

I continue on. There are some drunken students behind me singing. I ask them where the end of the city is and they tell me to carry on down the road and take a right. I look at my cell phone and it's just after ten. I figure that at Ashburn they will have realised by now that I've gone AWOL. I'm keen to get out fast. I stand at the beginning of the motorway and roll a smoke, my first one since starting the journey. I stick my thumb out and watch car after car.

Finally someone stops for me. He says, “Where are you going?”

“As far north as possible.”

“Well, get in. I'll take you to Ashburton. It'll be easier to hitch there.”

Feeling very excited I get in the car. I cannot believe I am actually getting out of Dunedin. I figure the cops north of Dunedin will not be looking for a hospital runaway. I talk to the driver and ask him how he is. I feel safe with him because he's playing Johnny Cash, which is what my mum plays in the car. The voice starts telling me she is my real mother and I should go back to Wellington. I see the music as a positive sign and feel glad that I am heading back to Wellington.

At Ashburton the man drops me at a well-lit spot by a service station. I use the toilet in the service station and then stand on the road with my thumb out. I wait for a while but no trucks stop and no cars seem to be passing. I decide to walk until I make it to another town. I walk across bridges and beside forests. I don't feel afraid of what's in the forests. Instead I look up at the stars and thank them for being there. I walk across gorges and admire the moonlight and how it shines on the ground leading my way. I say thank you to the moon for seeing me away from Ashburn.

I stop walking to roll a smoke but I can't find them. I search all through my clothes, and feel disappointed that I lost a fresh pouch. I worry about how I'm going to handle not having a smoke as it still seems I have a long way to go: all I can see is extended road.

I continue on my way and enjoy breathing in the freezing cold fresh air. I talk to the stars and the voice tells me not to worry because the angels are with me. Some cop cars go past me really quickly with their sirens on. I worry for a second that they are after me but they keep going. Trucks go past and don't pick me up but I don't worry about it, I just enjoy the walk and my freedom.

I keep following the road and eventually I end up in a small town. I see a service station and a small supermarket and café but not much else. A truck is pulled up at the side of the road. I don't approach the driver. I'm wary of looking strange—don't want anyone to alert the police. I see a little wooden cupboard attached to the back of a phone booth. I climb in, crouch, and close the lid to hide, but I'm uncomfortable so I get out.

I am starving. I look over the road and see a small grassy area with a wooden shelter, concrete paving and built-in benches and tables. I decide I will try and rest there. I fill my Coke bottle with water to give me energy and sustenance: it should make my stomach feel full. I search through my pockets and find a cigarette. I smoke the cigarette and check the time. It's five a.m. I feel happy because it's nearly daylight and shops will be opening up, which means coffee and hopefully a bus to Christchurch.

I lie down on the bench and close my eyes but I don't feel tired. I think about what I am going to do in Wellington. Although I am safely out of Ashburn I am worried about the implications of lack of sleep, which I know from previous experience can send me a bit crazy. In fact no sleep and no meds can spell disaster. The voice is likely to tell me to do strange things and if I slip into mania or depression I don't have anything to take to ease it.

I try to sleep on the bench but instead I keep running across the road to drink water—anything to ward off the effects of lack of sleep. I keep myself entertained by talking to the voice. Some water spills on the ground and I start hallucinating while I look at it. I see images of people I know, such as my family and the psychiatrist in Wellington. They look happy because I'm in Dunedin. Perhaps the psychiatrist was manipulated by my family to get me down to Ashburn. I also see a lawyer I know; he's at his desk. The voice says I should go and see him when I get back to Wellington.

Seven o'clock rolls around and the supermarket opens. I buy some tobacco, and some Panadol for sleep. There's a coffee shop inside. I look at the hot food, and buy myself a pie and some chocolate cake. I think I need to eat more. I consider hitching further but I figure I don't want to stand out on the road in case of the cops. I ask the people in the shop if there are any buses to Christchurch. They point across the road to the bus stop and show me the timetable.

The bus will come at 10.30 so I sit in the shop, drink my coffee and watch the road. When I look at my phone it's 9.30. I go and wait at the stop because I'm anxious not to miss the bus. While I wait I smoke, rolling cigarette after cigarette to compensate for the ones I didn't smoke while walking. The cigarettes and Panadol ease me down a bit. I start thinking about drugs and how nice it would be to get some. I fantasise about the feeling, and decide I will get a drink when I get to Christchurch. I still am on edge about being picked up by the police.

The bus turns up. I pay my fare and sit near the front. I try to sleep but keep getting distracted by thoughts. After crossing the flat plains, we pull up in the centre of Christchurch. The bus stop is like an exchange, with heaps of buses driving in and out. I ask where I can catch a bus to Picton. I don't contemplate taking a plane as this seems too complicated, and I feel I will be less conspicuous going by bus. I get told to go to the Square: there's a ticket shop where the bus leaves.

I make my way to the Square, a popular sightseeing spot with a cathedral and a statue. At the statue I look around, see the road the man told me to go down, and find the place to buy tickets for Picton. Cop cars are going out of the building across the street. I feel my anxiety rising and my heart pounding. I walk into the reception area and buy a ticket for the bus. It is going to be leaving at six o'clock, which means I have the afternoon in Christchurch. If I were more mellow I might enjoy this, but not in my heightened state. I don't much feel like walking around so I go to a café just around the corner, where I sit and have a coffee and a muffin.

By now I just want to get back to Wellington and find somewhere to sleep. Because I haven't taken my meds I feel pretty desperate. The voice kicks in, telling me to jump in a car and wait for somebody. I also hear the voices of old friends telling me I am free and will never have to go back to the psych ward again. I keep nodding off to sleep and then waking up because I don't want to miss the bus when it arrives.

 

The bus finally comes and I climb on board. As we drive out of Christchurch I manage to keep my eyes open and check the cars on the road. I decide the voice wants me to get into a white Skyline, but then everything starts to look hazy and I fall asleep.

When we make it to Kaikoura township the driver tells us to grab some food and drink. I have a cigarette and use the public toilet, which is by the sea. I go into a café on the main street. It has hot food on display. I don't know what to eat so I just buy a Coke, sit down at a table, and look around the restaurant. There's no one there so I feel comfortable.

I go outside and spot the white Skyline. I start walking towards it, and just as I get alongside some people jump in it and give me a strange look. This doesn't surprise me: I'm used to being let down by the voice.

The voice keeps sending repetitive messages, telling me not to go back to my parents. He says that I'm on camera all the time, and no one will help me because it's entertaining to see me suffer. I wonder if I'm destined to have a life of suffering and should just do drugs for the rest of my life. I would have to sleep on the streets because nobody would accept me into their home or flat.

We all get back on the bus and make our way to Picton. The road is windy and bumpy. I look out of the window at the sky. I smile and think surely there are some blessings out there for me. I sip my Coke. The voice tells me I'm all right and he loves me.

I arrive in Picton and walk away from the bus depot thinking ahead to the night. It will not be the first night I've spent here, walking around waiting for the terminal to open. I start hallucinating and think I can see dead bodies on the beach. I walk from the water's edge back to the playground. I see cartoon images in the playground that scare me: I can't tell if they are real or fake until I walk right up to one and touch it.

I walk through the playground and follow the road to the main street. There's a service station but it is serving from the window only, seeing it's after midnight. I buy myself a Cookie Time and a coffee, and head down a side street to a small green wooden bus shelter opposite a backpackers' lodge. I don't think to go into the lodge and pay for a bed. I sit in the shelter and enjoy my cookie and coffee.

Since I haven't been on pills, my body has more energy and I start getting into a bipolar high. I feel superhuman. I spend the night walking up and down the beach singing any song I can think of and then going back to the bus shelter. When I'm in the shelter I pour water on to the ground and watch the images in the water. Sometimes the images make me laugh. Sometimes they disturb me and make me scared. I don't get bored. Everything is a little adventure. I think I am fast becoming a genius. I would like to disturb the peace, but unfortunately, because the whole of Picton is asleep, that might mean disturbing people who have the power to lock me up again.

BOOK: Sarah Vaughan is Not My Mother: A Memoir of Madness
3.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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