Trembling With Fear 09/26/21

Clozapine Daydreams by Jim Graves

Jeremy Sutter lay on his bed, waiting for the medication to take effect. He had an episode today. That’s what they called it at Meadow Haven, an episode. It was a polite and less disturbing way of saying he tried to slit his wrists.

He couldn’t remember how long he had been there, not that it mattered, it wasn’t like anyone missed him. He was out-of-the-way there, the hidden flaw in a perfect family. Jeremy was the youngest of three; his sister was in her second year of medical school, while his older brother had just been offered a position with one of the largest law firms in Manhattan. Jeremy, however, was the one his parents didn’t mention at social functions and only in hushed tones in their own home.  

Jeremy tried lifting his arm but the restraints held him.  Raising his head and looking down, he could see a hint of blood coming through the gauze bandages on his wrists, and pulling on the restraints wasn’t helping matters. He rested his head back on the pillow, closed his eyes and whispered, “Now I lay me down to sleep, I have no soul for you to keep; All the tears that Jesus shed, have fed the monsters in my head.”

He waited for his visitors. Sometimes they came when he was outside for his one hour, daily dose of fresh air, but usually they waited until the halls were quiet and the residents were all tucked away, warm and cozy; and sedated. The staff at Meadow Haven never referred to their residents as patients, and they certainly never referred to Meadow Haven as a mental hospital – it was a recovery facility, with the cost of treatment keeping it highly exclusive.

Jeremy’s visitors were not your average visitors. For starters, no one but Jeremy could see them. He knew this because his visitors had told him so. At first, he had tried convincing the doctors that his visitors were real, but that led to disapproving looks and more writing in the little notebooks they always carried. He soon gave in and accepted that he was broken, just like Humpty Dumpty. 

“Broken is broken. Can’t fix a broken egg,” Jeremy whispered to the empty room, “all the king’s horses and all the king’s men can’t fix a broken egg.”

“It’s okay, Jeremy,” the first visitor said, “sometimes broken is better. If you’re broken, you don’t have to deal with the bullshit. That’s why Jack never went back up the hill, and Jill came tumbling after.”

“Jack and Jill,” Jeremy said, his speech slurred, “and you’re Humpty Dumpty.”

“That’s right, Jeremy. We’re both broken, aren’t we?”

“Can’t fix a broke egg,” Jeremy said, “but it hurts. It hurts all the time.”

“What hurts all the time, Jeremy?” It was the man in the white coat speaking now. The one who came with his visitors. The man in the white coat that no one else ever saw. “Tell me what hurts.”

“Life hurts.” Jeremy’s speech slurred badly now. He was getting sleepy. “It’s full of lies. There’s no Santa, no Easter Bunny or Tooth Fairy. They’re all lies.”

“They’re all real here, Jeremy, anything you want is here,” the man in the white coat said. He got up from the chair and walked over to Jeremy’s bedside.

Jeremy turned his head to the side and looked up at the man in the white coat. It wasn’t the same man anymore. His face had changed, it was the face of Jeremy’s father.

“You’ve always been a disappointment,” his father said, “do you know that? Have I made that clear enough over the years?”

“Yes.” Jeremy’s eyes began to tear. “I’m a broken disappointment.”

Jeremy closed his eyes. His thoughts were sluggish. Confused. If he were a part of his father, and he killed himself, would he then be killing his father? Could he do that? Was that what he had tried to do all along? He didn’t know. His thoughts were beginning to speed up now. They were coming too fast. Too many at once. He opened his eyes and saw the room bathed in a dim glow, causing shadows to race across the walls. Jeremy’s father was smiling, as Humpty Dumpty – with his cracked shell – danced across the room. Jack and Jill laughed as they each tried to get hold of their pail. Jeremy felt dizzy, the room beginning to spin. He closed his eyes again but that only made his dizziness worse. He wished so much for it to end, for the pain to end.

Jeremy’s father stood over him, “You know, your mother wishes you were never born. You were an accident. We never wanted a third child. You’ve been nothing but an embarrassment to the family. She gave birth to two wonderful children, and then you, you slithered your way out of her womb.” 

“Don’t listen to him, Jeremy,” Humpty Dumpty said, “he’s broken too, just in a different way.”

Jeremy turned his head away from his father, willing him to go away, but it was hard to focus. He could hear his mother crying, begging God to end the pregnancy. Jeremy was back in the womb, listening, as his mother prayed for his death. He screamed. He screamed for his own death. His screams filled his mind, but were silent to the ear. He turned and found his way out. He did slither, like an alien species invading a world filled with hate and violence, lies and deceit; a world where he would be treated as an abnormality, a freak.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little…”

Jeremy turned to see Humpty Dumpty sitting in the chair, his legs not long enough for his feet to reach the floor. He stopped singing when he saw Jeremy looking at him. 

“That was a bad one, huh? You don’t usually stay out that long,” Humpty said. He slid down off the chair and went to the bed. With his gloved hand, he wiped sweat from Jeremy’s forehead, “Yeah, that was a bad one, alright.”

Jeremy felt the soft, warm glove against his skin.  At that moment he didn’t care how much the doctors tried to convince him otherwise, he knew his visitors were real. Maybe it was the rest of the world – the  world outside his locked room – that wasn’t real. Maybe the doctors and staff at Meadow Haven weren’t real. All he had to do was listen to Humpty Dumpty and things would be okay. Humpty had always been there for him, for as long as he could remember, Humpty was there when everyone else had given up and walked away.

“You’re wrong, Jeremy,” his father said. He was moving around the room now, moving on a conveyor, the kind they use in factories for assembly lines. His father’s hands were being swapped out for drills. “These are for you, Jeremy, we’re going to see what went wrong inside your head,” he said.

“I’ve always hated you.” Jeremy’s mother was now standing behind Humpty Dumpty, “You ruined our lives. How did you survive everything I did to get rid of you?”

“Ignore them, Jeremy,” Humpty said, “I’m your friend, right? Listen to me, I’m going to help you.”

It was too much to take at once. Jeremy screamed again, but this time it was heard. He saw a light come on through the tiny window in his door as he started chewing. He continued chewing as the door opened. 

The large man stood just inside the door, his hand still on the key in the lock, staring in shock at the sight before him. Jeremy lay on a blood-soaked pillow, blood still running down the side of his face. He was choking on something. The man reached out with his free hand and slapped the large red button on the outside wall. A red light started flashing outside Jeremy’s door and a piercing alarm went off. The man let go of the keys hanging from the open door and rushed to the bed, trying to see what had happened.

Jeremy’s room was soon filled with medical staff, all rushing – in vain – to clear his airway of the bloody glove and his tongue which he had chewed off. There was no time to wonder where the glove came from, or to notice the pieces of broken eggshell beneath their feet.