Humber Bridge, I’m falling down
A Family reunion
There’s nothing better than a family reunion, relatives from far and wide coming together to catch up and reconnect. Some members having been absent for years, living the opposite ends of the earth! On February 28th, 2019 at around 10.15am, my mother inadvertently sent an invite for this reunion, as she jumped her way down to her next failed suicide attempt, landing on the concrete beneath the towering north side, Humber bridge.
How do you feel when, having to come to what you think is the end of a really difficult read, the ending isn’t there? I’ll never know if my mother reached the end of the book she left by the railings of the Humber Bridge. The book, covered by her pale brown shoes, warning to the bridge staff that there had been a suicide attempt.
But as she jumped, hoping for the ending to her story, she was just leaping into the next chapter.
Quite immediately, the family came together, our brother, who’s first invite came from the police, extending this out to my sister, who then shared with my twin and me. Usually, you get time to RSVP to a get-together. Not this event. Not when our mother was taken to the emergency department, having sustained a fractured neck, leg, shoulder, ribs, a tear in her aorta, and a brain injury.
We all made our way, my sister and I in my car, and as we reached the hospital, we could see beyond the glass doors, our brother gesticulating to the police, possibly sign language for the emotions he had no words for. We were let in and told by the two police officers about the suicide attempt and our mother’s current critical condition.
The light was sucked out of the room (well corridor-this is the NHS). For once, the laughter was uninvited. There were no anecdotes for this new reality. I say new. It’s a well-rehearsed one, mother having made multiple attempts on her life, dating back to when I was 5 years old. Only now we were adults, who had the required armour for such horror. And so, we each donned our body suits, cloaks, and trauma-proof vests, with the precision of a group of surgeons, embarking on their well-rehearsed lifesaving surgery. It always saved mothers life, but it never freed her from her demons. I think as children, certainly our eldest sibling used the well-known rhyme of Humpty Dumpty, forever trying to act out its words to save mother. We were all the king’s horses, and all the King’s men, and when mother fell off the wall (Humber Bridge) we couldn’t put her back together again. Neither could the surgeons, nor the staff in Resus, or the Major trauma unit, rehab ward, or mental health centre.
Like a jigsaw, all shaken up and then four players, heads bent, trying to complete the puzzle. But no matter the attempts, the effort, and the concentration, there would always be a missing piece. One that nobody or anything could fill. Such was our mothers’ mental health affliction.
If you or anyone in your family, or circle of friends, is suffering with depression, anxiety or trauma, please reach out, either signpost them to their NHS GP, or the 111 service. If you feel someone is in a significant crisis, you can always take them to an A&E, a place of safety or find your local crisis team number.
