Rainy days on the crisis hotline always seem to be the quietest. The grey looming skies and the walls of rain pounding on people’s windows seem to drive them into their homes. It’s almost like you expect to be depressed and lonely on days like this.
The phone had only rung once since my shift started two hours ago.
The phone rings and my hand shoots down to the receiver.
“Crisis hotline. Danielle speaking.”
I know that this is called a suicide prevention hotline, but can I talk to you if I am not planning on killing myself? . . . Well, not today at least.
I’m here to talk about anything you’d like. But I am curious; did anything happen today that made you call?
There was silence at the on the other line for some time. I wait.
Do I need to tell you my name? So you, like, know what to call me?
I tell him it is not necessary.
He is ready to talk and I am more than ready to listen. Today was different than most days, for two reasons.
Well, number one, there was a marathon of 1930’s movies on cable today. And number two I decided to stop taking all eighteen of my prescription medications today….
The second reason he offered as a trivial afterthought. I go on autopilot and start asking about his medications. It is my responsibility to make sure his life is not in danger. He is again silent.
I can see you’re not going to shut up until I tell you something, huh? Well, I am bipolar. This morning I was supposed to refill my prescriptions and I just decided not to. Anyway, do you know the weather tomorrow?
His avoidant talk about weather leaves me uneasy to plunge into a lecture about the dangerous spiral toward mania or deep depression. So, I went back to the movie marathon he was watching. He said Tarzan was not his favorite. The Invisible Man was. I ask him about it to keep him talking.
Well, basically it’s about a scientist who manages to deceive light into refracting in a way that made him invisible. He had been searching for fame and he found it when he was able to disappear. Instead he found an existence where no one saw him at all. In an attempt to become part of the world again he wraps his body in bandages and old tattered clothes and dark goggles so no one could see his eyes, which was all that was visibly left of his former self.
I start to say that it is pretty amazing how a search for greatness can lead to a lack of nothing at all —I am interrupted by the muffled sound of tears.
Are you OK?
I am a mess. You see I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder three years ago and my life has become more of a mess than it was in the years I went untreated. At least before I started treatments, I lived, really lived. I know my life jumped altitudes too often and I was often destructive to myself and others but at least people saw me, really saw me. I was searching for something fantastic, something greater than I had. And now, I’m left with nothing. Only darkness. Like the invisible man after he wrapped himself in cloth.
He pauses and I try again to bring him back to the medication.
How do you think you will feel after you stop taking the medication?
Without my role in my family as the unstable one, what am I anyway? I had always wrapped myself with insanity like bandages. But I want to live again. I need my identity back. The absence of light is not darkness. It’s nothing at all.
I hear the sound of the click of the phone. He is gone. Before I have been even remotely able to help.
My shift for today is over. I walk in tears to the parking lot. Maybe we will help him another time.
I think, maybe that’s how our lives are too . . . we find it hard to see what isn’t directly in front of us. We are surrounded by opportunities. Flooded by choices.
We all want to be remembered for something, to be seen as filling a vital role. Even if our niche be infamy or insanity, we need to be noticed.
I hope this man will see something beyond his bipolar disorder. That there is something more to him under his bandages.
But I understand that can be hard when you live your life in extremes. In black or white, in silence and loud noise, in bright light and overwhelming darkness.
I wipe my eyes clean and turn the key in the ignition. My headlights saturate the dark road ahead of me and suddenly I can see in every direction.
Our young guest author, Danielle Guido, is a recent graduate of Bard College in Duchess County, New York. One of her articles was accepted into the Hot Chocolate for the Spiritual Soul, a series of books by Arielle Ford when she was only twelve years old. She is a volunteer at Family of Woodstock which serves the community in many ways including shelters, emergency food pantries, court advocates, counseling and case management services, hotlines, and child care. Services, with few exceptions are free.
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My son’s friend (I’ve known since he was 2–) of 18 years stepped in front of a train. Make the phone call. Life is worth living–after the dark there will be light.
.-= CK Reyes´s last blog ..100 Ways To Birth Your Entrepreneurial Dream! Part 2 of 5 =-.
What a heart wrenching article .. Kudos to everyone who mans those phone lines.
.-= Michelle Vandepas´s last blog ..100 Ways To Birth Your Entrepreneurial Dream! Part 2 of 5 =-.
Who supports the supporters? There is a burn-out time. The people manning the help lines say, ‘I’m going to take a break’. Really they mean, ‘I’m through’. Who can blame them.
Listening to waves of misery for years and trying to shut the door on it eventually becomes impossible.
I applaud their trying.
A most interesting allegory! The protagonist who mans the crisis hotline is dedicated to helping others obsessed with stress , unhappiness., darkness. People who are obsessed with misgivings. People who obsessed with SELF. and cannot look outside of self where true happiness lies. The protagonist is NOT obsessed with self. He looks outside himself to others. As she walks to her care she crys not over herself, but over her failure to help another. The author captures this concept beautifully when she writes: “I wipe my eyes clean and turn the key in the ignition. MY HEADLIGHTS SATURATE THE DARK ROAD AHEAD OF ME AND SUDDENLY I CAN SEE IN EVERY DIRECTION”.
When eyes find those to help by saturating the darkness in unhappy lives with light and hope, a heart radiates with happiness in every direction. Beautiful!
Dear Michelle and CK -
Yes, bless those who work the crisis lines. I think sometimes people avoid them when they need to talk because they will have to reveal their identity.
Crisis lines never intervene unless a child is in danger or a person has already taken steps toward suicide and is too far gone to help himself as in too many pills to call anyone.
Then, they will trace the call and contact the police.
But in most cases, people just need someone to talk to. They are never asked for personal information.
So, as you said, CK, CALL! Do not be afraid. No one will judge you.
Dear Chris -
Most crisis lines only ask that you work the phones for a few hours at a time because it is stressful.
When I did this work there was support always available to me. We were very well trained in advance and if you found you were over stressed or unable to cope with a caller there was a supervisor you could signal who would either plug into the call to assist or even take it over.
It is fulfilling work. And since you are a volunteer, you can set your own schedule.
There were many retirees who did this work. The biggest hurdle was we were instructed to avoid any direct advice. Hard to do when it is sometimes so obvious how to solve a problem.
Dear Reed -
I am glad you liked the article and appreciate your thoughtful comments.
The author is a recent college graduate. Such a compassionate soul. There are many young people like her doing community work. We don’t hear much about them.
But they are there. Do you remember when we were young the older generation thought the future was doomed because of us?
We did fine. And still are.
So very sad when you want to help but can’t, especially in these desperate situations. Danielle, you are an inspiration.
.-= Jonathan – Advanced Life Skills´s last blog ..Deep Insight on Life From My Grandpa =-.
Twitter: thatgirlisfunny
September 3, 2009 at 9:52 am
I applaud Danielle and all others working these hotlines. Speaking to people who are disorganized or disoriented in their mental state upsets, frustrates and shuts me down. I can’t help! Heartbreaking.
I’m really glad there is training available to help those willing to serve to stand firm and not get rocked off their base by cries for help from people who may or may not be ready to accept it. Good life lesson for me to remember to listen (and go with the flow) rather than try to solve a problem that is not up to me to solve.
.-= thatgirlisfunny´s last blog ..FML: Being Cynical is a Habit I have to Feed =-.
Hey That Girl is Funny -
You could not do this work without training. We would all be inclined to solve everyone’s problems when the attitude of the crisis lines is to guide the caller to solve their own.
That is our inclination. And they have found it is not helpful.
It is also the hardest lesson to learn – not only on a crisis line but in our everyday lives.
Thanks for commenting. But we would love to at least have your first name. We want to address you personally. As you can see, I try to respond to all who comment. You are so important to the conversation.
Although, I do admit, you are funny! Been following your posts on Twitter too!
BTW I know Danielle. You would love her. She is very funny too!
I do trust all of the concepts you’ve introduced on your post. They’re really convincing and can certainly work. Still, the posts are too quick for novices. May you please prolong them a bit from subsequent time? Thank you for the post.
There is, of course, so much more to say about this subject.
Danielle is my niece and a new social worker. It was a guest post from her. She has had great success in her work although she is only 26.
Her area is working with mentally disturbed teenagers. A difficult arena even for an experienced person.
i appreciate your comment.