Where we begin. A panicked phone call from mum at 5.30am, she has lost control and is spiralling into another severe depressive episode, I rush to her house & from there we head to the nearest emergency department for psychiatric triage. Her house is left in a state of unwashed dishes and will remain this way for the next two months.
Mum is admitted into the locked psych ward of the nearest public hospital that has aged persons mental health services. It’s an awful place, it just is. This system is underfunded and neglected. But it’s the only place where she will be safe and can recover. The guilt as her primary carer is overwhelming.
Christmas Day 3am. She’s back in the emergency department of a public hospital. On Christmas Eve she exhibited physical symptoms that the psych ward could not treat. So she was shipped to the nearest hospital. In all honesty it was the hardest Christmas Day I ever had. But here, I was just relieved she was finally resting.
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