The Blue Veil

By Leigh Turgeon

Up to 78 MILLION suffer from it in the US alone, and VERY FEW talk about it. Is it your father, friend, neighbor...is it you?
Now, finally, a raw account of this disease, so you can understand your loved ones and be assured that you are not alone.
Leigh has everything going for her when the unthinkable happens. She loses control of her own emotions and everything in her life begins to slip away.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leigh Turgeon
• Release date: Feb 9, 2012
• ISBN: 9781466026346

Leigh Turgeon

I am a writer who is dedicated to life enriching tidbits for all to lead their lives in a positive direction, which is where I want my fam and myself to be. The Blue Veil is loosely based on our story, on my story.

Book preview

The Blue Veil

By Leigh Turgeon

1st Edition

copyright 2012 Leigh Turgeon

Smashwords Edition

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal use only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work put into this book.

For everyone I love; who’s ever loved me;

For understanding;

For peace;

For healing;

Xo

1

Crimson. Huh. It would be more appropriate if the last color I saw was blue, but now all I can see is crimson-red blood. I feel the searing sting as it leaves my body; then warmth as it coats my skin. Nothing more to say; nothing I can do to stop it.

I let my head drop back. The ceiling looks so bright, white compared to the garish red below it. I close my eyes against the glare.

I hear the blood dripping into the water with a rhythm that is slow and deep. It lulls me inside myself, into contemplation.

How did my life become this? How the hell is THIS my life? Parties, uni, sorority, politics, my beautiful boys, all to this... THIS!

There is a lot of blood smeared on the floor now. The water level is high, overflowing onto the floor.

Such a failure... so much pain... way too many secrets and lies. Why can’t you just be the Leigh that you used to be?

As the blood continues to stream out, my muscles feel so much heavier. Gravity has become my mortal enemy and my body is being pushed down, down, down.

I close my eyes. I don’t want the last colour I see to be crimson.

My tongue feels like a scouring pad in my mouth. There is no spit left, and now I’m so very thirsty. My lips are shriveling.

I’m starting to feel cold... so cold. Goosebumps appear on my legs as a film of clammy moisture breaks out everywhere else.

So thirsty. So tired. So sad. I’m sobbing without moving; crying without tears.

No one knows... no one knows how it’s been... so sad; so weak... so pathetic... trapped... depressed.

I am everyone; your friend, your sister, your mother, your wife. That’s the scary part. This could happen to anyone. One in four adults, over the course of their lifetimes, will actually face this monster: Depression.

Sometimes I didn’t know if I was an oxymoron, or just a moron. In darkness or light, I always remained a dreamer. I always knew that if I really worked at something I would come out on top. Call it self-confidence if you want, or ‘pie in the sky’, ‘head in the clouds’ crap even, but that has always been me. When barriers in my plans cropped up, I just mowed them down. I continued to do that until adult-hood.

When I did become an adult, an obstacle came up that I just couldn’t erase with my determination alone. The obstacle was my monster, my depression. My own brain chemistry had betrayed me; broken me in two. What you saw on the outside was at war with the inner turmoil raging on the inside.

It didn’t happen all at once. I fought it and tried to hide it every step of the way. It seemed to get worse and more intense with time and life experiences, until finally I had succumbed to its control. I swathed myself into a tightly woven emotional blanket, with no say into what people could see or what I was communicating from my cocoon.

The uncomfortable barrier to my happiness was visible only to me. I thought only I understood what I was going through. When I looked around I would see people going about their business, smiling, laughing, secure and organized. I secretly hated those people; their contentment, their accomplishments. As it turns out, you can just never know what’s going on with other people’s hearts and minds, can you? Judging books by covers, not seeing people’s private pain, hopefully that is just a fault of youth. Sadly, it probably isn’t.

Well, when I was a youthful nineteen I thought I knew people. Hell, I had been around the world a few times by then and thought I knew everything! But this, this invisible pain was new.

I’m perched on the edge of my seat gazing around the packed stadium beside an old high school friend, Sierra. I take a drag from my smoke, trying to look relaxed and casual. This is IT, I realize, quivering with exhilaration, the sound of my pounding heart carried away with the screaming fans.

The stadium is bursting with enthusiasm and excitement; mirroring my own feelings. I had just returned home from abroad and phoned Sierra who invited me to tag along to the football game. It had been what I had been waiting for for so long. Freedom! The freedom to do what I want, when I want. Drink, eat and have a blast!! Woohoo!

The game takes us to an after party hosted by one of the star football players who was rumored to have already been drafted. The party is very cool─definitely the place to see and be seen.

That’s when I meet him. He had been helping carry everyone’s beer orders and had fumbled my 12 pack from which three or four beers dropped and suddenly exploded. Foam was everywhere! We scoop up the remaining bottles and run back out onto the front porch, getting sprayed and soaked. We stay on the front porch for the rest of the party, chatting and drinking. You know the whole thing, we have so much in common and our differences are just intriguing enough to keep it interesting.

I had met him by accident and that was it. In that moment I had met the man I would spend the next two years of my life with. Rhys, with his beautiful deep green eyes, welcoming smile, and so much fun to be with!

We spent the next year practically swimming in alcohol. We got wasted at least five times a week, either out at the bar or just at his place. Student apartments are always crazy and his was no exception. He shared a two-bedroom apartment with what eventually became five other people, not including me, and I was there all the time. On Superbowl Sunday that year, we each bought ourselves a case of 24 beers. Everyone else went out and we stayed in. In boxers and t-shirts, we systematically drank all twenty-four beers each.

What can I say? Drinking was just fun! Loads of laughs and crazy times ensued. The next year saw Rhys living in a townhouse with only three other guys. The drinking continued. We hadn’t really noticed how much weight we had both gained, or how crappy we both looked. We went to our classes, crammed for exams, and totally drank our faces off.

After one particular night of pints and shots we had headed up to bed for some fooling around, but I just wasn’t into it. This was kind of becoming the norm for us. Formerly a bit of a nympho, this was really starting to trouble me. I just couldn’t understand why I was having such a small amount of interest in our physical relationship. This man, with whom I had such a great affection for, was clearly still attractive. But these thoughts started to swirl around my head until I was just beside myself.

Why aren’t I the hot thang that I used to be? This is crazy, Leigh, YOU are turning down sex? Oh no, don’t do that, don’t let those tears come now!

The tears start tumbling down my face, and while my back is to him, Rhys can clearly see my body quiver with sobs.

Oh come on Babe, why are you crying? It’s fine, don’t worry about it! Let’s just go to sleep.

I don’t know why I’m crying, but I can’t stop! I just feel like crying a lot lately.

Are you upset about us? ‘Cause we’re fine, but it’s pretty damn frustrating to want to fool around and you’re just lying there crying. Come to think of it, you’ve been doing that a lot…what’s the deal?

I told you! I don’t know why I am crying but please don’t think it has anything to do with you!

Well one second you’re sad, the next you’re mad, the next all happy, I can’t keep up Leigh! Maybe you should go to the doctor or something…I’m worried about you!

So now you think I’m crazy? You may not be far off…

I am NOT crazy! I’m just over tired these days or something!

I never said you were crazy, I just said to go see a doctor!

Maybe you’re right, I am so tired of trying to control my crazy ass self…

I inhale slowly in consideration.

K, I’ll call my doctor okay? I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…

Come here Babe. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.

Yeah, will it still be fine if we find out your going out with a crazy chick?

So that’s where we stood. After a year and a half of total togetherness, Rhys and I were... getting tired, in general. Within the next two weeks I had my appointment with the doctor.

I walk in and say ‘hey’ to the nurse practitioner that works the front desk. She is on the phone so she smiles to indicate that she saw me and will cross my name off the list.

I sit down in one of the faded pink waiting room chairs I’ve sat in a million times before throughout my life. Everything is the same, the pictures on the walls, the months old Readers Digest magazines and the DO NOT SMOKE warning poster. It makes me more self-conscious of the yellowed fingers on my left hand from way to much smoking. I tuck my hands under my legs.

My legs, shoulders, everything is shaking, almost imperceptibly. That is what is different. I have been coming to this doctor for my entire life and have never felt nervous. Now I am. Terrified even. Not knowing how to talk about this private subject is really freaking me out. The office air is getting to me. My tongue is dry and I really want some water.

Leigh? Come on in.

I slowly rise with my fists clenched tight and stroll towards the room she indicates.

So, how are things?

Just a casual, small talk remark. When I don’t reply she says,

The doctor will be in in a moment

She leaves and closes the door.

I look around the familiar exam room. It’s the one with the window looking out on a main street but the blinds are always closed. All the little instruments, the books including the annual encyclopedia of drugs and the diagrams on the walls, always intrigue me. Today though, these things are of no interest to me. As the door opens I once again tuck my hands under my legs.

Hello Leigh.

The doctor sits down and opens my file in front of him, ready to write.

So what brings you in to see me today?

My mouth opens, ready with a speech I have been rehearsing for days, but nothing comes out. I feel my face crumple and the tears start. My hands come flying out to cover my face. The doctor hands me a tissue and patiently waits for me to calm down enough to speak.

I….I…can’t seem to….control my feelings lately…

I say with the words bouncing out in spurts,

I just,…I’m tired all the time…one minute I’m angry the next I’m so sad, then five minutes later I’m laughing my head off! It’s just become too much…it’s…just.. ..to….much.

Now I’m getting the sobbing shakes and kind of hyperventilating like you do when you’re crying really hard. I look up at the doctor and he’s just sitting there, all calm.

Have you been eating properly? Getting out? Are you particularly stressed about anything?

I blow my nose as the sobs dissipate.

Yeah, that’s just it doc! My life is great right now, but I can’t seem to enjoy it!

Have we ever tested your thyroid?

I don’t know.

Okay we’ll send you to the lab for some blood work. Now let’s talk about a possible diagnosis…. Depression.

A deep drum sounded somewhere in my head, Boom.

Here we go, I’m crazy!

The sobbing starts again and I’m starting to sweat from the effort.

Really?...you think…Really?

Well that’s what it sounds like. Now we’ll try you on a six month treatment of Prozac.

Boom.

Prozac, the word that had become synonymous with several bad jokes about mental illness much like ExLax was to bowel movements in the eighties. Prozac, the word suddenly pertained to me.

Okay Doc, if that’s what you think, I’ll do it.

I reach out to grab the small piece of prescription paper. It feels cold in my hand, much like the cold dread that has clamped my chest tight.

How the hell is Rhys going to deal with this? When we met I was a sweet, slim, intelligent, six foot blonde, now I’m a moody, overweight, depressed Prozac case…

2

Depression. The word kept echoing in my mind over and over. It marinated in my mouth until I got a sour stomach. On the days and weeks following the doctors’ appointment the clouds were thick and grey, matching my mood. They never moved and seemed so heavy as to suffocate everything underneath. My usual outgoing, cute, funny self was now a dour lump on the couch most of the time.

Time rumbled by slowly, passed by me either on Rhys’s couch or my bed at home. Days were going into each other and I started to confuse which classes I had when so I just stopped going. Sleep helped to pass the hours, so I did as much of that as I could.

My hair got greasy, zits popped out, yeah, I was just gorgeous let me tell you!

Trying to tell Rhys what was going on was excruciating. He tried, but didn’t really understand.

Please, please just wait until the medication starts working!

The tears are, once again, staining my face and soaking the cushion I’ve been hugging. I wipe them away with a slight of hand.

I’m trying, I really am, I’ll get it together I promise!

Oh great now you’re starting to get that stuffed nose sound, come on Leigh! He’s so sick of this! Give him something different or he’s going to get sick of YOU!

Look Leigh, you’re just not acting like yourself, you know? I love you…but, man, this is brutal! Why can’t you just be like other people and get over it already? You know, like fake it ‘til you make it! Maybe if you acted happier you’d start to BE happier…

He sits down next to me on the soft, low student couch and pulls me toward him

Aww Babe, I just can’t take this crying all the time! I miss you!

I miss you too! God Rhys if I could just…God if I could just get better, feel better…laugh. If I could only express to you how badly I want that!

While laughing is the last thing I am about to do, I slowly, almost painfully stretch a smile across my lips. I fold my arms around his shoulders and give him a big, squishy hug. I pull away slowly, desperately trying to maintain the smile Rhys so badly wants to see.

I miss you to Cutie Pants. Maybe you’re right. I’m a strong chick right? Maybe, if I just pick myself up and ACT better, that will help.

I’ll just have to practice this lighter mood while we’re together…yeah that’ll work….god this is tiring already…

That was the first indication that I would have to cover up my true feelings. The moment I faked that smile was the first step in an excruciatingly long process of shielding my true self from the world. The dichotomy had begun.

That day we headed to school together. I had found my schedule by then and was tired of Rhys riding me about skipping class. All the extra work I had to catch up on and all the extra sleep I needed kept me in the library almost every day for a couple of weeks. The frigid temperatures of winter continued and I stayed inside as much as possible.

Then, one snowy day, as Rhys and I sat on his couch watching nothing in particular, it happened.

FFFFFFFffffffffffffeew!!!

I exhale heavily after doing a full body inventory. All is calm, for the first time in

months’. Rhys’s head tilts suddenly to the side as he regards me warily.

What’s up?

The words fumble out of his mouth slowly, as