"Everyone’s going to find out all about those secrets. 

Everyone will know the worst things that I can imagine. 

They will know all about me and everything that I imagined people saying will be true now." 

They keep on going around in my head. 

They’re crap, and I know it. They’re just voices, I tell myself, but why won’t they go away ? A short time passed. More voices, different voices, 

"You know what to do, Mother always says so. What should I do now ? I don’t know! But you know what to do, don’t you ?" 

The vicious circle kept going ‘round. 

***

Time to get up from bed and ring Mum, after all she knows what to do. 

Scattered and shaking, I do this. 

I go to the phone, sit down, and phone ever-reliable Mum. 

She is my tower of strength. 

It’s an STD call but I don’t care. 

She tells me to ring the Crisis Team    (aka the Mental Health Triage)    but I can only fumble with my electronic organizer. 

I know exactly how it works, inside and out, but I could not operate it to save myself. 

I get a pen and Mum tells me the phone number of the crisis team and I write it down. 

She tells me that she can be on the next bus if I need her to be with me. 

I tell her "no thanks, I think I’ll be OK". I hang up the phone and call the Crisis Team. 

I speak to a lady who knows me, although I cannot recall her. 

She talks me through it and tells me to watch a bit of TV or listen to some music and to occupy myself until later in the night. 

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