The Blue Veil
by Leigh Turgeon
1st Edition
copyright 2012 Leigh Turgeon
License Notes
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For everyone I love, who’s ever loved me,
For understanding,
For peace,
For healing.
xo
1
Crimson. Huh. It would be more appropriate if the last color I saw was blue, but now all I can see is crimson, red blood. I feel the searing sting as it leaves my body, then warmth as it coats my skin. Nothing more to say, nothing I can do to stop it.
I let my head drop back. The ceiling looks so bright, white compared to the garish red below it. I close my eyes against the glare of it.
I hear the blood dripping into the water with a rhythm that is slow and deep. It lulls me inside myself, into contemplation.
How did my life become this? How the hell is THIS my life? Parties, uni., sorority, politics, my beautiful boys, all to this...THIS!
There is a lot of blood smeared on the floor now. The water level is high, overflowing onto the floor.
Such a failure...so much pain...way to many secrets and lies. Why can’t you just be the Leigh that you used to be?
As the blood keeps streaming out of me, my muscles feel so much heavier. Gravity has become my mortal enemy and my body is being pushed down, down, down.
I close my eyes. I don’t want the last color I see to be crimson.
My tongue feels like a scouring pad in my mouth. There is no spit left and now I’m so very thirsty. My lips are shriveling.
I’m starting to feel cold...so cold. Goosebumps appear on my legs as a film of clammy moisture breaks out everywhere else.
So thirsty. So tired. So sad. I’m sobbing with out moving, crying without tears.
No one knows...no one knows how it’s been...so sad, so weak...so pathetic...trapped...depressed.
I am everyone; your friend, your sister, your mother, your wife. That’s the scary part. This could happen to anyone. One in four adults, over the course of their lifetimes, will actually face this monster: Depression.
Sometimes I didn’t know if I was an oxymoron, or just a moron. In darkness or light, I always remained a dreamer. I always knew that if I really worked at something I would come out on top. Call it self-confidence if you want, or ‘pie in the sky’, ‘head in the clouds’ crap even, but that has always been me. When barriers in my plans cropped up, I just mowed them down. I continued to do that until adult hood.
When I did become an adult, an obstacle came up that I just couldn’t erase with my determination alone. The obstacle was my monster, my depression. My own brain chemistry had betrayed me, broken me in two; what you saw on the outside and the inner turmoil raging on the inside. It didn’t happen all at once, and I fought it and tried to hide it every step of the way. It seemed to get worse and more intense with time and life experiences, until finally I succumbed to its control. I swathed myself into a tightly woven emotional blanket, with no say into what people could see or what I was communicating from my cocoon.
The uncomfortable barrier to my happiness was visible only to me. I thought only I understood what I was going through. When I looked around I would see people going about their business, smiling, laughing, secure and organized. I secretly hated those people their contentment, their accomplishments. As it turns out, you can just never know what’s going on with other people’s hearts and minds, can you? Judging books by covers, not seeing people’s private pain, hopefully that is just a fault of youth. Sadly, it probably isn’t.
Well, when I was a youthful nineteen I thought I knew people. Hell, I had been around the world a few times by then, I knew everything! But this, this was new.
I’m perched on the edge of my seat, gazing around the packed stadium, beside an old high school friend, Sierra. When I returned home from abroad, I phoned her and ended up tagging along to this football game, where we now sit among thousands of cheering university students. The stadium is bursting with enthusiasm and excitement, which mirrors my own feelings as I take a drag from my smoke, trying to look relaxed and casual. This is IT, I realize, quivering with exhilaration, the sound of my pounding heart carried away with the screaming fans.
This is what I’ve been waiting for for sooo long! Freedom! The freedom to do what I want when I want drinks, eat and have a blast!! Boohoos!
The game takes us to an after party hosted by one of the star football players, who are rumored to have already been drafted. Very cool, definitely the place to see and be seen. I meet him by accident. He’s helping to carry in everyone’s beer orders and he drops my 12 pack from which three or four suddenly explode. Foam is every where! We scoop up the remaining bottles and run back out onto the front porch, getting sprayed and soaked. We stay on the front porch for the rest of the party, chatting and drinking. You know the whole thing, we have so much in common and our differences are just intriguing enough to keep it interesting.
That was it. I had met the man I would spend the next two years with. Rhys, with his beautiful deep green eyes, welcoming smile was so much fun to be with! We spent the next year practically swimming in alcohol. We got wasted at least five times a week, either out at the bar or just at his place.
Student apartments are always crazy and his was no exception. He shared a two bedroom apartment with what eventually became five other people, not including me, and I was there all the time. On Superbowl Sunday that year, we each bought ourselves a case of 24 beers. Everyone else went out and we stayed in, in boxers and t-shirts and systematically drank all twenty four beers – each.
What can I say? Drinking was just fun! Loads of laughs and crazy times ensued. The next year saw Rhys living in a town house with only three other guys. The drinking continued. We hadn’t really noticed how much weight we had both gained, or how crappy we both looked. We went to our classes, crammed for exams and totally drank our faces off.
After one particular night of pints and shots we head to bed for some fooling around but I’m just not into it. This was kind of becoming the norm. Formerly a bit of a nympho, this is really troubling to me. I just can’t understand why I have such a small amount of interest in our physical relationship, when this man, whom I have such a great affection for, is clearly still attractive. These thoughts start to swirl around in my head until I am just beside myself.
Why aren’t I the hot thang that I used to be? This is crazy, Leigh, YOU are turning down sex? Oh no, don’t do that, don’t let those tears come now!
The tears start tumbling down my face, and while my back is to him, Rhys can clearly see my body quiver with sobs.
Oh come on Babe, why are you crying? It’s fine, don’t worry about it! Let’s just go to sleep.
I don’t know why I’m crying, but I can’t stop! I just feel like crying a lot lately.
Are you upset about us? ‘Cause we’re fine, but it’s pretty damn frustrating to want to fool around and you’re just laying there crying. Come to think of it, you’ve been doing that a lot…what’s the deal?
I told you! I don’t know why I am crying but please don’t think it has anything to do with you!
Well one second you’re sad, the next you’re mad, the next all happy, I can’t keep up Leigh! Maybe you should go to the doctor or something…I’m worried about you!
So now you think I’m crazy? You may not be far off…
I am NOT crazy! I’m just over tired these days or something!
I never said you were crazy, I just said to go see a doctor!
Maybe you’re right, I am so tired of trying to control my crazy ass self…
I inhale slowly in consideration.
K, I’ll call my doctor okay? I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…
Come here Babe. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.
Yeah, will it still be fine if we find out your going out with a crazy chick?
So that’s where we stood. After a year and a half of total togetherness, Rhys and I were...getting tired, in general. Within the next two weeks I had my appointment with the doctor.
I walk in and say ‘hey’ to the nurse practitioner that works the front desk. She is on the phone so she smiles to indicate that she saw me and will cRhys my name off the list.
I sit down in one of the faded pink waiting room chairs I’ve sat in a million times before throughout my life. Everything is the same, the pictures on the walls, the months old Readers Digest magazines and the DO NOT SMOKE warning poster. It makes me more self conscious of the yellowed fingers on my left hand from way to much smoking. I tuck my hands under my legs.
My legs, shoulders, everything is shaking, almost imperceptibly. That is what is different. I have been coming to this doctor for my entire life and have never felt nervous. Now I am. Terrified even. Not knowing how to talk about this private subject is really freaking me out. The office air is getting to me. My tongue is dry and I really want some water.
Leigh? Come on in.
I slowly rise with my fists clenched tight and stroll towards the room she indicates.
So, how are things?
Just a casual, small talk remark. When I don’t reply she says,
The doctor will be in in a moment
She leaves and closes the door.
I look around the familiar exam room. It’s the one with the window looking out on a main street but the blinds are always closed. All the little instruments, the books including the annual encyclopedia of drugs and the diagrams on the walls, always intrigue me. Today though, these things are of no interest to me. As the door opens I once again tuck my hands under my legs.
Hello Leigh.
The doctor sits down and opens my file in front of him, ready to write.
So what brings you in to see me today?
My mouth opens, ready with a speech I have been rehearsing for days, but nothing comes out. I feel my face crumple and the tears start. My hands come flying out to cover my face. The doctor hands me a tissue and patiently waits for me to calm down enough to speak.
I….I…can’t seem to….control my feelings lately…
I say with the words bouncing out in spurts,
I just,…I’m tired all the time…one minute I’m angry the next I’m so sad, then five minutes later I’m laughing my head off! It’s just become too much…it’s…just.. ..to….much.
Now I’m getting the sobbing shakes and kind of hyperventilating like you do when you’re crying really hard. I look up at the doctor and he’s just sitting there, all calm.
Have you been eating properly? Getting out? Are you particularly stressed about anything?
I blow my nose as the sobs dissipate.
Yeah, that’s just it doc! My life is great right now, but I can’t seem to enjoy it!
Have we ever tested your thyroid?
I don’t know.
Okay we’ll send you to the lab for some blood work. Now let’s talk about a possible diagnosis…. Depression.
A deep drum sounded somewhere in my head, Boom.
Here we go, I’m crazy!
The sobbing starts again and I’m starting to sweat from the effort.
Really?...you think…Really?
Well that’s what it sounds like. Now we’ll try you on a six month treatment of Prozac.
Boom.
Prozac, the word that had become synonymous with several bad jokes about mental illness much like ExLax was to bowel movements in the eighties. Prozac, the word suddenly pertained to me.
Okay Doc, if that’s what you think, I’ll do it.
I reach out to grab the small piece of prescription paper. It feels cold in my hand, much like the cold dread that has clamped my chest tight.
How the hell is Rhys going to deal with this? When we met I was a sweet, slim, intelligent, six foot blonde, now I’m a moody, over weight, depressed Prozac case…
2
Depression. The word kept echoing in my mind over and over. It marinated in my mouth until I got a sour stomach. On the days and weeks following the doctors’ appointment the clouds were thick and grey, matching my mood. They never moved and seemed so heavy as to suffocate everything underneath. My usual outgoing, cute, funny self was now a dour lump on the couch most of the time.
Time rumbled by slowly, passed by me either on Rhys’s couch or my bed at home. Days were going into each other and I started to confuse which classes I had when so I just stopped going. Sleep helped to pass the hours, so I did as much of that as I could.
My hair got greasy, zits popped out, yeah, I was just gorgeous let me tell you!
Trying to tell Rhys what was going on was excruciating. He tried, but didn’t really understand.
Please, please just wait until the medication starts working!
The tears are, once again, staining my face and soaking the cushion I’ve been hugging. I wipe them away with a slight of hand.
I’m trying, I really am, I’ll get it together I promise!
Oh great now you’re starting to get that stuffed nose sound, come on Leigh! He’s so sick of this! Give him something different or he’s going to get sick of YOU!
Look Leigh, you’re just not acting like yourself, you know? I love you…but, man, this is brutal! Why can’t you just be like other people and get over it already? You know, like fake it ‘til you make it! Maybe if you acted happier you’d start to BE happier…
He sits down next to me on the soft, low student couch and pulls me toward him
Aww Babe, I just can’t take this crying all the time! I miss you!
I miss you too! God Rhys if I could just…God if I could just get better, feel better…laugh. If I could only express to you how badly I want that!
While laughing is the last thing I am about to do, I slowly, almost painfully stretch a smile across my lips. I fold my arms around his shoulders and give him a big, squishy hug. I pull away slowly, desperately trying to maintain the smile Rhys so badly wants to see.
I miss you to Cutie Pants. Maybe you’re right. I’m a strong chick right? Maybe, if I just pick myself up and ACT better, that will help.
I’ll just have to practice this lighter mood while we’re together…yeah that’ll work….god this is tiring already…
That was the first indication that I would have to cover up my true feelings. The moment I faked that smile was the first step in an excruciatingly long process of shielding my true self from the world. The dichotomy had begun.
That day we headed to school together. I had found my schedule by then and was tired of Rhys riding me about skipping class. All the extra work I had to catch up on and all the extra sleep I needed kept me in the library almost every day for a couple of weeks. The frigid temperatures of winter continued and I stayed inside as much as possible.
Then, one snowy day, as Rhys and I sat on his couch watching nothing in particular, it happened.
FFFFFFFffffffffffffeew!!!
I exhale heavily after doing a full body inventory. All is calm, for the first time in
months’. Rhys’s head tilts suddenly to the side as he regards me warily.
What’s up?
The words fumble out of his mouth slowly, as if he is afraid of the answer.
Nothing,…there is absolutely nothing wrong! I’m not ecstatic or sad or mad….there’s just…nothing!
That’s great honey,
he says, giving me a little pat on the knee. He continues to watch the movie we’re watching with out another comment.
I sit there and stare at him, stunned
You mean after all the crap I’ve been through that’s ALL you can say??? “That’s nice honey?” I’ve invested everything I have into this relationship and was about to lose my mind, I tell you I fell better and…’that’s nice honey”???
FFfffffffffffffffffff….
Well I guess that’s it then, I guess you just don’t care anymore…that or you just don’t want to think about that fact that your girlfriend is on PROZAC…..oh that WORD! As long as I don’t mention it I guess everything will be fine…but doesn’t that mean you’re ashamed of it, ashamed of ME???
My eyes are starting to water I’ve been dumbfounded staring at him for so long. I quickly blink and look toward the T.V..
I started to feel uneasy about our relationship after that. Rhys became a bit more evasive and less fun to drink with. As I felt stronger emotionally there was less crying and more fighting. The months dragged by and things were just less fun and inspiring as the world had seemed before. Was this part of the depression or just part of our failing relationship? Would I be able to handle what was in store for us?
3
Months went by, and Rhys and I got increasingly frustrated with each other. I spent more time at home and he spent more time rollerblading. Suddenly he was on a health kick that I was just not on board with. I had trouble enough keeping myself from bursting out in tears on an hourly basis, let alone trying to teach my uncoordinated self to rollerblade! It looked as if my dream to marry my university sweetheart was doomed to failure. For the first time I could not accomplish a dream and there was nothing I could do about it!
Nothing could stop our bickering, or accumulating arguments. The alcohol consumption really didn’t help and our fights got more physical, with shoving and name calling. Name calling can really hurt coming from someone you’ve really cared about.
Finally, one day late in the summer, after a particularly violent fight which ended with Rhys pushing me over to the pavement, me bawling my eyes out while his room mate gently cleaned up my bleeding knees, I sat on the toilet just sobbing. My heart literally hurt and my skinned knees weren’t too far behind. It was over. Years of loving, building memories (and beer bellies) had come crashing to an end as all six feet of me had come crashing to the pavement.
That evening, as I flopped on to my bed with sobs, all I could think of was how not in control I felt.
He doesn’t love me…he actually said he doesn’t love me anymore! How does someone just STOP loving? Maybe he never loved me to begin with? Ohh Leigh what a loser you are! He totally loved you and you blew it! This damn depression! Why couldn’t you have just put a cork in it whenever you started to cry?
The crying didn’t stop for days. I set myself up in my windowless basement bedroom, and didn’t surface for a while. I cried when I thought of how we had loved, in a simple, gentle way. I cried when I remembered all the awesome things we had done, like our trip to Banff, Alberta in the summer, where we swam in the hot springs and went on a ski lift up a hill with no snow. I cried when I thought about our spontaneous trip to Florida in a January. We drove there and back in four days then surprised our friends with our sunburns. I wept when I remembered that our friends would now convert back to being just his friends and that I was, now very much, alone. Alone to wallow in self pity, and self hatred, and depression, there, in the windless basement, I stayed.
I stayed in bed, at least, until my best friend Jesse, from high school, came and saved me.
A pounding on my door rouses me from my self induced hibernation. I am jolted awake trying to figure out what is going on. The pounding on the door gets louder, joined by a voice.
Leigh! Come on Leigh! Time to get up!!
I don’t answer, hoping that whoever it was will just go away.
More pounding, more yelling.
Leigh! I’m coming in! I know you sleep naked so get those blankets on!!
The door swings open and there, to my amazement, stands Jesse, all five foot 4 of her, looming in the door way.
Okay Leigh, it’s time to get up! We’re going to get you dressed and I’m taking you to Westport!
Westport is a small town that we drive to whenever we have something to talk about and want to get away. There is a tiny bed and breakfast there that makes the best omelets ever!
Oh God Jesse, I don’t know if I can..
Cue the sobbing.
I’m just so….he just… I miss him so…..he doesn’t LOVE me Jesse!
I wail the last part, and the sobbing grows to hysterical
proportions. Jesse sits down on my bed and rubs her hand along my
back. It seems to work and my sobbing slows.
It’s okay Leigh,
everything is going to be okay, you will get through this, I promise.
She gazes at the pile of clothes on the floor beside my bed and reaches for some jeans.
We’re going to get you dressed, and we’re going to go get some amazing omelets.
But…what am I going to do Jesse? I don’t know anyone at school, and…and….he doesn’t love me Sher…
I am once again wracked with sobs, but they are weaker then before.
All this crying is so exhausting…
Come on Leigh, you can do this…you WILL get through this.
She reaches for a sweater. Finally I am able to wipe off the tears and really look at her face. She is as sincere as I have ever seen her, her olive half Chinese skin glowing, her deep brown eyes flashing with frustration. I take a deep breath.
Okay let’s do it, let’s go eat…hey, did my Mom let you in?
Yeah she’s really worried about you, so she called me.
Ohhhhh.
I pull up my pants and slip on my sweater. Do I care that I have no under wear on? Not at all. I am numb. Trying to act okay so I’ll be okay.
Oh Jesse, if you only knew how much hell I’ve put Rhys through, you’d know that I am the bad person. It’s not his fault. I pushed him away. But... he doesn’t love me!
A pain flashes across my chest and the ball hardens in my throat. I bite my trembling lip to stop the tears. It actually works and my face stays momentarily dry.
How will I ever do this? How will I ever get past this?...he doesn’t love me…but then again why would he? I’m a fat stupid person on antidepressants with no sex drive…what the hell have I become?
4
After that day with Jesse, I was actually able to get myself back into some semblance of a normal existence, at least on the exterior. School started and I forced myself to go to campus not knowing anyone. It was weird not to know what to do with my breaks between classes. Sometimes I would go to the bathroom and sit in a stall until I had to be in the next place. Other times I would find a random place to sit and take out a book and pretend to read.
I did a lot of pretending then. One day, as I was once again sitting in a lobby, pretending to read some random notes, as people with actual purpose rushed by, someone stopped in front of me.
Hey Leigh! Oh my Gawd, how ARE you? I haven’t seen you in FOREVER!
I look up to see a girl I had gone to high school with. Her wavy, dirty blonde hair is in a ponytail and her clothes are just as they always were, well put together but in a disheveled sort of way. Endearing really. We are just on the line of friend/acquaintance but it is nice to see a friendly face, for sure.
Hey Tammy.
I reply slowly, trying to get my tongue out of its coma. I stand up and we hug briefly.
So you’re at Carleton now eh?
Yeah, but I don’t really know anyone this year, my boyfriend and I broke up and…
My voice trails off as I have to stop before the lump in my throat takes over and spills the tears.
This is so totally embarrassing.
Stop this Leigh! Come on, get her number or try to meet her later or some thing, she’s the only one you’ve seen and you can’t let her know how pathetic you are!
Oh, yeah guys can be real assholes can’t they? Well, I know something that might cheer you up though! I’m in a sorority, and it’s so much fun. Why don’t you come check it out?
She sees the slight hesitation sweep over my face.
Come on, at least you’ll get to meet some new people and it will get you out of the house! I’ll even pick you up, do you still live in the east end?
I nod mutely
That sounds… good Tammy. I’d like that.
Great! Okay here’s my number, give me a shout and we’ll set up the time and you can give me your address to pick you up at.
So that was how my sorority career all started. It was a step in the right direction, how to get socially active on campus again. It was also scary as hell, getting myself out of the safety of my basement bedroom.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself as I walked into some strangers’ apartment for the sorority recruitment event. At least I’ll meet some new people... Meet new people I did.
The apartment is on the third floor of the house so by the time we get to the top I am out of breath.
Out of shape much missy?
We walk into a little kitchen where there are several pretty ladies standing and greeting everyone with smiles and welcomes. A slender woman is standing in her bedroom doorway holding a little kitten. She has a warm glint in her hazel eyes as she cuddles her kitty. The apartment smells like scented candles and fresh cooking.
We are led through the kitchen to another small staircase that leads up to a midsize loft type living room. As I go up I am struck by the sudden rise in temperature and the twinkly little white Christmas lights that light the room above. As our heads rise above the staircase I am faced with about 40 pairs of female eyes staring at us come up. It is packed!
Oh my Gawd Leigh! How the heck are you going to do this? You have nothing interesting to say and you haven’t talked with anyone in weeks!
A sudden bomb of panic goes off in my chest and spreads through out my body. Perhaps it’s an adrenalin rush?
That rush takes me into the next hour, which I spend having small talk with strangers. At first I just smile sweetly and giggle nervously.
Okay Leigh, you can DO this, come on what to think about…what to talk about..
Come on just open your mouth and…
The internal push literally forces my mouth open and my tongue to wake up.
So where are you from?
My question is directed to any one in general, in hopes that some other woman who is feeling awkward will take the bait. The good news is that some of the other women are feeling the same way, as indicated by their furtive glances around the room, sizing each other up.
I find I am also taking my own furtive glances around the room.
Ahhh! I am running out of things to say! Some one help! Gawd Leigh you’re so boring and pathetic!
I feel my outer body going through the motions of amusing chit chat, finding that I may just be pulling it off. I may actually be convincing as a normal, intelligent, vibrant woman.
They’re just being nice Leigh, you’re not really that funny or charming. Everyone is trying to fit in and since you’re the loudest voice they are pretending to be interested…
One of these women, Caroline, suddenly announces she was born in Barbados! That immediately perks me up as I spent three years in Barbados as a child. Suddenly I have something in common with some one. The wind is pushed back into my sails and I feel better enough to, perhaps, get through the rest of this sorority recruitment party with out the volcanoes that are my tear ducts erupting.
Oh really?
I turn to talk to Caroline trying to be totally engRhysed with this conversation, when one of the sorority sisters pipes up to say that, unfortunately, the party time has come to and end.
I feel jubilant. Not because the party is over, but because…perhaps…. I enjoyed myself a little? Also the packed room has become really hot as the amount of women grew. I am sticky, giddy and tired but I’ve done it! Also I have managed to do it whilst still protecting my inner turmoil from view. No one has to know my pain. A glint of hope, as tiny as an eyelash, forms within me.
That glint of hope grew within me to a raging inferno throughout the years. So, also, did the separation between what I termed my real life, the shitty muddy life I led every day within me, and my external façade. I had long since stopped taking Prozac, but the dichotomy called Leigh had taken hold.
That façade did take me to great personal heights however. After a lot of fooling around and drinking way to much over the years, I finally proved myself as an exemplary sorority sister while being vice president of our chapter and was the only one nominated to run for president the next year, a great and proud memory of mine. My social life was crazy with tons of parties and mixers with fraternities, as well as joint philanthropy projects we carried out with other Greek groups. ‘Lots of drinkin’ and carrying on’ as my Dad would say. It was an exciting, influential time and certainly what I had set out to do with my social life.
As time went by, however, I started to wonder what I could do with rest of my life. What and who I wanted to be became a major thought in my mind as the years passed.
One year I was volunteering as the volunteer coordinator for a prominent local politician. Things in the sorority were going really well, if not exhausting. I had been given the responsibility of getting all of the volunteers I could get a hold of to join us at a private airport hanger where our politician was due to arrive on the day the election was called. I methodically went about calling and schmoozing all the volunteers and friends I could muster to come to the airport. The size of the crowd he was greeted by was extremely important to the mood of how the campaign would continue.
We finally find the side street the hanger is on and turn in to find parking. I’ve never been to one of these private hangers so I’m curious as to what the layout will be and how large it will be, plus I’m feeling the stirring of excitement in my guts, the intense kind of excitement that makes you want to scream into your closed mouth.
Keeping my jaw clenched we walk into the building, which is really no bigger then a couple of the sitting areas in the ‘gates’ section of a regular airport terminal. I am a tiny bit relieved as I know it will only take a certain amount of people to make this room look full. Kirsten, who is my friend, sorority sister, and colleague, and I set about putting up posters and banners depicting the politicians name and slogans. We don political pins and ensure the parties colors are everywhere.
Okay…okay…okay….this is going to be okay….people will come….He will arrive….we will all cheer….it will be okay.
I still feel like screaming in to my mouth, but now I’m nervous, not excited.
Volunteers and supporters are beginning to arrive, slowly. A woman here, a man with his whole family, the ‘ole faithful's’ whom I can always count on to show up, but there are still only patches of people here and there. The place is looking pretty sparse.
Come on people, where are you? I called like a million of you…where are you?