THE WAY IT IS – Age Thirty Eight

It was great for a while. But before long the old problem started up again — another relapse.
Mom was the first to notice. She was a great help all along but she was showing her age by
then. She had a tough time looking after Dad and keeping her eye on me too. I couldn’t
seem to get on the same wavelength with any of my friends and without being able to get to
the drop in centre in the city I was really isolated. I stayed alone in the apartment most of the
time. The only person in town I could turn to was my family doctor but all he could do is
monitor my meds. He just didn’t have the time to give me more support than that. But one
day I was so bad when I showed up in his office that he called an ambulance and sent me to
the city and the psychiatric hospital. I was there for weeks until I finally got back on an even
keel. They let me come back home but with nobody in town to help me on a regular basis so
it wasn’t very long until I was back in the hospital again. This continued off and on for a
long time, as often as once a year but sometimes only once every couple or three years. It
was not much of a life. The few friends I had left drifted away, one by one, and when Dad
and then Mom died, I was really alone.