May 26, 2016

She was trying to speak between violent sobs. And I was directing all my energy to my ears, struggling to comprehend her words. Three things became evident pretty soon. She was in distress. She was in a vulnerable place. And she was desperate for help. I was petrified to be on the receiving end of this 'crisis call'. To be absolutely honest, in the first few moments when all I could hear was a wailing woman, I contemplated hanging up on the pretext of not being able to hear what she said. I am not sure whether it was fear of being pulled up if the call was audited or something more meaningful that made me hang on. I would like to believe it was the latter!
She said she wanted to end her suffering. That it was getting too much to bear. I asked her to promise me that she wouldn't do anything to hurt herself. She refused. My heart sank to my toes when she told me of her plan as well as access to means for harming herself. There are knives in the kitchen, she admitted quietly. I was at a loss for words. My mind seemed to have slowed down. A voice inside me was screaming, say something! Anything! You have to save her! 'But how?' asked a smaller, more timid voice.
After what seemed like forever, I told her not to go to the kitchen as long as we were on phone together. To my immense relief, she agreed! She started to share her heart-breaking tale. I wanted to comfort her. To reassure her. Yet, I was at a complete loss of words. I probably asked some mindless questions. I can't be too sure. She said something about writing a letter to her daughter and 'ending it'. Before I could react, she hung up!
I have never been more disappointed and scared at the same time. With alarm bells ringing in my head, it seemed as though every single nerve in my body was taut with tension. My manager suggested I call her again. She rejected the call. I tried again. And this time she picked it. Relief, nervousness, fear...I felt it all at once - electrifying my very being. I tried to keep this out of my voice, and requested her to stay with me. 'Don't talk if you don't want to,' I said, 'but stay on line with me please.' Again, to my immense relief, she agreed.
The 20 odd minutes that followed, till we connected her with her mental health worker, were... I don't really have words for what they were. I wanted her to know how much I wanted her to live. But I didn't know how to. She said she was scared. I wanted to say 'so am I'. Instead, I tried being strong for her. Tried distracting her and 'holding' her. Every few seconds I repeated her name and asked if she was there. Every time I asked her to take a deep breath, I did too. I wonder what that was like for her. Was she feeling frustrated by my feeble attempts? Or was she grateful to have another person with her in this? Either way, I am immensely grateful to her for letting me be with her. For my sake more than hers. Because I know how badly this would have haunted me if I did not have the reassurance that she was in safe hands.
That was then. I have no way of knowing what happened after. Did she get the much needed support? Did things get any better for her? I don't know. But I am hoping that she knows, that she is not alone. Then again, I wonder, what was my desperation all about. Was it because I didn't want her to kill herself on 'my watch'? Or because I genuinely wanted her to live. Either way, it was a draining experience. And I am glad she called in.