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Time's Up

I wish I knew the signs...

By MK ColbertPublished 3 years ago 7 min read
3
Time's Up
Photo by Charisse Kenion on Unsplash

I can’t quite hear myself think, the television is blaring, and the smell of maple pancakes and hickory smoked bacon appear to waltz around my nostrils. I didn’t even realize it had started; my fingers were nervously tapping upon the wooden table as I considered what I would do next.

I grew up in a religious home where our duty was to God and the church. As the praise and worship leader, I briefly wondered if I stayed home with my husband was, I neglecting my duties to God, to the church, if I just missed one day?

Does this show them that I am weak, unreliable and I am not believing in God to take care of my husband and our family? I don’t believe that I am. Surely, the pastor and his wife will be understanding if I am not there today.

I look down at my phone and I notice it’s already twenty minutes past ten. I turn off my phone and place it back into my coat pocket. Nope, I’m not going to church. I will deal with the fallout later.

I think I will just take my son with me to go and see his dad. Devin hasn’t seen Ben since he came back home from the hospital. I just wanted Ben to be in a good space when I brought Devin home and yesterday, he wasn’t.

I could see my mom glaring out the side of her eye at me, but I didn’t acknowledge her stare. I was grateful for her helping me to take care of Devin during this time.

She saw the weight of the world upon my shoulders and she never ran away, she was always there to help me carry it. That was it, I made up my mind to go home so all three of us could spend some time together as a family.

I told Devin to go pack up his belongings, he looked at me with a smile and went skipping up the stairs. He was always such a good child, never gave me any problems. I followed him but there was something about stopping at the front door and looking out of the window.

This house held so much of my childhood and was over 100 years old. As I stood there, its white door allowed the icy cold wind to seep through its cracks.

Yet, it was such a beautiful sight to see the gentle billowing of the white snow and the melodic drifting of the tiny snowflakes. Soon I could not see anything because the heat from my breathing fogged up the glass.

My thoughts were now also in disarray, unable to shake the uneasiness of Ben’s demeanor last night. It was almost like he was no longer himself. He moved in a zombie-like fashion appearing as if each movement was painful and brought torment to his soul. The light from the bathroom provided a soft glow upon his frame as he pivoted back and forth, repeatedly up and down the hallway.

Debilitating... that’s what he told me, his mental illness, the medicine, brought so many worries and concerns. He wondered how he would take care of the family. He knew he made bad choices when he was younger and did not want to ever find himself back in prison.

He shared that he did not want to go back to the hospital, and he argued that he did not want to take the medicine. He said the medicine destroyed him, the medicine killed him. He was lost within and did not know how to get back to who he was.

I no longer recognized him as my husband. The man that was once so quick-witted, humorous, intelligent, and independent, now struggled with comprehension, basic tasks, and verbalizing mere responses to simple questions.

Yet, I remained hopeful, believing with each day moving forward, he would soon return to Devin and me. Devin came running down the stairs with his backpack and our eyes met but we never said a word. I pulled Devin into my arms and gave him a big hug and for that moment I felt our family was going to be alright.

I decided to park in front of the house, the alley was full of snow and I didn’t want to take the chance of getting stuck in the alleyway. Devin ran through the gate and began to sprint across the front yard making zig-zags in the snow.

It was peaceful in the neighborhood. The skies were gray, but the bright white snow gave life to the scenery. I unlocked the door and Devin took off into his bedroom. The living room was dark, and the television sat idle.

I went into my bedroom and sat down my purse, but I kept my coat on because it was chilly in the house. Ben must have left the heat off. I began to call for Ben.

“Ben! Ben!” I heard no reply.

I tapped on the bathroom door but there was no answer. I opened the door, but he wasn’t in there.

“Ben” I hollered at the top of my lungs. I was thinking, maybe he left with one of his friends and didn’t tell me, but I don’t remember seeing any footsteps in the snow out front.

I ran to the kitchen to look out the window to see if there were any car tracks in the back but there were none. Devin was behind me following each one of my footsteps eager to see his dad and tell him about this new video game that he had started playing.

That’s when I remembered the basement. Maybe, Ben couldn’t hear me because he was downstairs watching TV. I had set up the basement just for him and his friends. I remember hanging these vanilla white-colored Christmas lights all around the ceiling. It gave it such a calming ambiance. I couldn’t wait for Ben to see it.

I was excited to think that he saw the surprise and how I decorated his man cave. I dashed down the stairs with Devin as my shadow right behind me. I called again midway on the staircase.

“Ben!”.

I found myself starting to get irritated because I could see him laying on the couch with his arm and leg hanging over. Ben was 6’ 3” and a good 215 pounds, not someone easy to miss. Yet, no response.

I got closer to the couch and immediately turned to Devin and told him to go back upstairs. He paused and looked at me, and I gave him the sternest look ever.

“Go back upstairs, right now!!”

I yelled at Devin who was now holding on to the rail at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes squinted and his lips tightened but he didn’t say a word to me, his body was lost in confusion. He turned around and walked sluggishly up the stairs. I watched him until he exited and shut the door behind him.

I could hardly inhale… the air was stifling, and I no longer resided in my physical body. It seemed like time no longer existed even though mere seconds had passed by. I went over to Ben whose eyes were barely closed. I didn’t see any pills, my eyes didn’t see any blood. I sat down beside him and reached for his wrist. I paused and held in my breath to feel a pulse. There was none.

As I placed his arm on the couch next to me. My eyes would identify the nemesis, the one who assisted in this grievous act. It had shown no emotions, it had no remorse, it asked for no forgiveness. It laid upon the shaggy green carpet.

This was not a dream. I didn’t know the signs and now Ben was gone. I slowly reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my phone. Knowing I couldn’t turn back the hands of time. I began to dial 9-1-1.

If you are in need of help. You do not have to suffer alone.

Please contact the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-8255

Or

If in Crisis, text HOME to 741741 for free, 24/7 Crisis Counseling

(US and Canada)

Let's continue to bring awareness to the needs of Mental Health in the African American Communities.

Thank you for reading. This is my true story, names were changed for confidentiality but this traumatic experience left me as a young widow and single mother at 25 years old. Healing and grieving is a process that you don't have to go through alone. If you are dealing with your own mental health or have a friend or family member who you want to support. Please know there are resources, educational opportunities, and services available.

Much Love & Blessings,

-MK Colbert

trauma
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About the Creator

MK Colbert

MK a.k.a Maritta Kachele is a Jamaican American singer-songwriter, poet, film producer, and mental health/prison reform advocate. She loves to create new realms of exploration and enjoys writing diverse pieces.

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