A Line of Crisis

Pain. I hear it in your voice as you try to explain the situation through sobs. You can’t go on. Life is overwhelming. You feel alone.

“I understand,” I think to myself wishing I could explain just how closely your situation matches my past.

Your voice raises in exasperation as you recount the thoughts that pop into your mind. You think that there must be a demon in your brain because you have never had such intense, racing ploys.

The ambulance dispatch explains why she wants to send the police, “to ensure you are safe,” she coes. I can hear the fear in your voice as you start telling me that your mom can’t find out. She is in the other room, but mustn’t know that you are struggling.

“What would the worst case scenario be if she did find out?” I ask, trying to help you see the reality of her love.

You don’t care about how much she wants you to get help; you only worry about her stress levels. Her arthritis dictates much of her life and you can’t bear adding to the strain.

I want to tell you that it will be ok, but I really don’t know. You are craving to jump off a bridge and I am grabbing for the right words while dispatch listens as I try to assess your risk. You called 911 because you were alone, afraid of the invalidation that threatens to intoxicate your soul. You have tried to change and have read all of the literature. You are an intelligent girl filled with potential.

If you only knew. There is freedom. There is a Quiet that can silence the demon within. He is here right now as we speak. He is calling your name – the name that He chose for you before the foundation of the world.

What if you never find out?

The police show up at your door and the ambulance dispatch confirms that you are safe. What is safety? The police will do another risk assessment then either leave you alone, or take you to the hospital. Your mom found out and you are blaming yourself for causing her more strife while she is blaming herself for not noticing your grief.

If you only knew how loved you are. But you may never know. What if no one tells you? What if the demon within is so loud that you can’t hear the Whisper?

You hang up the phone and dispatch makes a comment, “Good job. I don’t know if it’s your training or if you just have a knack for this kind of thing, but I have screened a lot of these calls and you were by far the best.”

“Thanks,” I reply.

We hang up our lines and I lean back in my chair. I laugh harder than I have laughed in my life. Tears roll down my cheeks and I allow my emotions to come out through giggles. It’s not funny. It’s devastating. What if no one ever tells you about your destiny?

Seven hours later I am sitting in bed. All other calls so easily forgotten, but not yours. It was different from the moment dispatch connected our lines. You are 24 – the same age as me. You said the anti-depressants were making you crazy, but you don’t know what was different about today. The thoughts in your head reeling like a cracked record. We will forever be strangers yet I was the facilitator of your rawest moment.

What if no one ever tells you there is freedom? I can remember nights like yours. Before an overdose. After an overdose. While driving over a bridge. I know what it’s like to fear for your life because of internal forces. You were right, there is a demon placing thoughts in your head. I wish I had told you there is a way to make it stop.

I will never communicate with you again. Did you go to the hospital? Did you refuse help and walk to the bridge? What if no one ever tells you how precious you are? There is urgency. You need to know. I’m sorry I stuck to protocol. I’m sorry I followed my training and asked all of the questions. The questions were good. The assessment was quality, but I left out the important stuff.

You are loved. You are chosen. You are precious. You were created to live an abundant life. I’m so sorry I never told you.