She Is No Longer Herself

She sits in the chair in the dining room, so small and frail. I can't help but wonder what she is thinking about. Her eyes are red and swollen as she stares at the floor transfixed to one particular spot. She makes no movements for what seems to be hours. Almost as if she is hypnotized in a trance, I snap my fingers to see if she will come back to reality. Is she being haunted by the trauma of her past, or has she always been this way? I ask her what she is thinking so hard about and she replies with the same answer she always does, "NOTHING". I don't want to anger her by asking any further questions so I walk away and let her be.

A few steps away from my bedroom door she says to me, " there is a snake on the back patio and it can slide through glass and I know he is coming in to kill me." I walked over to the two large sliding glass doors pull open the blinds and flip the switch, turning on the patio light. I look around with my hands cupped around the sides of my eyes and with my forehead pressed against the glass. I tell her that there is not a snake out there and go on to explain that snakes do not live in our area and she has nothing to worry about.

When she speaks to me again I hear a little girls voice say that the snake is from the Netherlands and it is right there staring at her, now standing, she backs herself into the corner filled with fear. I look again knowing damn well that there is nothing out there, I decide to open the door and step outside. Lifting up the boxes and chairs stored out there I pretend to be looking for a snake. I go back into the apartment and with the same childish voice she screams, "It's right there, look it's right there staring at me and it is coming through the glass." She now has visibly trembling hands and her eyes are as big as an Oreo cookies.

I can't help but to be annoyed, now with irritation slicing though my last bit of patience I yell back, "You are seeing things, there is nothing out there! What is wrong with you? There's no snake, it doesn't exist, it's just made up in your head." The shift in her stance and the confused look on her face are familiar indications that she has come back to herself.

I am ashamed of myself for losing control when I am the one who is supposed to be mentally stable. Yet at the same time a sigh of relief escapes my lips as I have defused yet another "episode" of Psychosis and she should be fine for at least a few hours. I reflect on the weeks recently past and I realize that these "episodes" have been a lot more frequent and seem to be lasting longer spans of time. It hasn't been an hour when I hear a voice I don't recognize screaming from behind her bedroom door. And just like that I spring into action and say to myself, "here we go again."

The sound of pots and pans crashing has me jumping out of my dream and straight to my feet. Shaken and disoriented I clumsily stumble quickly to where I think the sound has come from. I still can't focus my eyes as they are still not fully open from my peaceful rest. When I don't see her in the kitchen I go to the next logical place. Why me, I say into the empty room, wishing that someone would magically answer my question. If she is not in the kitchen or her bedroom then where could she have gone. I know it is only 5:32AM because the clock on the stove revealed that to me. I'm starting to get agitated and make no attempt to disguise the slight anger in my voice when I start to call out her name. It is then that I realize that there is a faint beam of light creeping it's way through the space between the front door and the outside world.

A million thoughts flood my head all at once and a gasp escapes my throat. Shit, she made it outside, and panic is the winner of the mix of emotions that were fighting for the control of my mind. I am completely awake and without any further thoughts I sling the door open and rush outside. My heart has now become lodged in my throat as fear is now fighting one on one with the panic in my head. I run down the stairs skipping every other one, I don't see her anywhere. I turn the corner towards the back parking lot and there she is throwing bags of stuff away in the dumpster. I rush up to her and ask her what in the world she was throwing away at this time in the morning. Again she replies with her favorite answer for almost every question, "nothing".

She threw away all of the pots and pans and EVERYTHING that wasn't hers in our kitchen! I'm talking dishes, silverware, toaster, microwave, and my new air fryer and Keurig Coffee maker. What in the hell is this woman doing, what is she thinking, has she finally lost herself completely? All I know is that I am the only one who she has in her life so I have to seek help. This is outside of my capabilities and I struggle to understand what she is going through. I can't make any logical sense out of what she is thinking because that's where all of this begins, in her mind. She is no longer herself and I don't think she ever will be again. There is no ending to this story, it's just my way of getting it all out before I end up losing my own sanity.

THANK YOU FOR READING MY STORY!!

This is a true story of some of the situations I have recently gone through with my roommate. Her name is Betty and she is 70 years old. She suffers from Schizophrenia and Multiple Personality Disorder. I in no way intend to offend anyone, so if any of this struck you the wrong way I apologize. These mental health issues that she has are real and have started to take over her entire being. It is sad and frustrating for her and it's very hard to watch her slip away. She was once so full of life and maintained a stable and healthy way of living. I do not know what has changed in the past 3 years since I have been taking care of and living with her. I had to vent because I feel as if I am losing it myself sometimes lately dealing with all of this with her. Thank you for reading my story and it feels so good to get all of this off my chest.