Will She Make It?

After weeks and weeks of crisis, and countless hospital admissions, today Julie took one shaky step forwards.  She might step back again tomorrow, but that's not the point.  The important thing is that she took that one step forwards today.

Today Julie did not take an overdose.  She bought the pills from the local shop, she poured herself a glass of water, but she did not swallow them.  She was back in the same place she had been repeatedly all winter, but for the first time this winter she did not follow through.  Some part of her did not want to take the overdose.  She did not want to go back to A&E.

She phoned her support worker and by some miracle Jude was available to talk.  Julie told her what was happening.  Together they managed to work through the crisis, Julie on her own at home, Jude at the other end of the phone line, on the other side of the county.  It was a long phone call but finally Jude managed to persuade her. Slowly and shakily, and prompted by Jude, she managed to take all the pills out of their packaging one by one and flush them down the toilet so that they were gone for good. 

It was hard.  I came home in the immediate aftermath, and Julie wept over the pills that she had not taken - wept as she has never wept over the pills that she has.  She was drained and shaking with exhaustion.

We edged cautiously through the evening.  It came and went in waves - waves of doubt, and regret, and anxiety.  What had she done?  The impulse to self-harm was stronger than ever.  Perhaps she should have taken those pills, followed it through.  Whatever fed on her self-harm was now hungry, and seriously angry.

It's easy to tell someone not to self-harm.  It's very hard to do.  Five years of self-injury and self-poisoning: that's a lot of habit to kick. Julie may not manage it tomorrow.

But she managed it today.