A Life Spinning out of Control (a true story)

For a while it had looked like things were finally going to come together for Carrie. She found employment at a veterinary clinic as the vet’s assistant. She was determined to do a good job. The veterinary gave her a long list of drugs and their uses to memorize. It took many hours of her own time to do it, but she was conscientious and didn’t want to make a mistake that might cost an animal its life. Carrie had wanted to be a veterinary when she was a child, but the dream receded during her tumultuous teen years. The vet was happy with her work the first few days and it appeared that she had finally found her niche. Then the day came when they had to put down a dog for its owner. The dog was old and ill, but not in pain. Carrie suspected the owner did not want to be bothered with caring for a dog in its declining days, and she could not hide her anger. Watching the suffering of the animals that came in was hard for Carrie, and she began to find fault with several aspects of the way the animal hospital was run. In a few weeks she was out of a job again. She had to call her parents to get rent money when it came due, something that always put her in the depths of depression.


She did find another job with a florist as a delivery driver. Her boss was a compassionate person and seemed to sense in Carrie a struggling soul. But even that job was in jeopardy when her car broke down and she missed a day. She didn’t have the money to fix the car, so it remained parked outside her apartment as she walked to work the next day, well over three miles. Her parents gave her rides a few days, but she hated to depend on them. There was always advice dished out with the favor. She was late to work on the day before Valentines Day, and her boss was obviously losing patience with her. When she couldn’t find one of the addresses that day to deliver the flowers, she didn’t feel like she could go back to the shop with the flowers, so she just drove around for hours. When she finally went back, the customer had called and her boss was livid – and Carrie lost another job. She had no way home and so despondent she couldn’t call her parents. When a man offered a ride as she walked home, she accepted.


“Right there, pull in there,” Carrie said when they got to her apartment complex.


It was a bad scene that followed. It became clear that the man expected sex for the ride. When Carrie refused, he doubled up his fist and hit her hard, striking her in the breastbone. The pain was intense, but Carrie got out of the car and ran into her apartment and shut the door.


The pain was extreme for several days, and never went away completely. At times it was almost unbearable. Without a job, and in pain, she spent what little money she had left to get drunk to numb her senses. Then she began to hear the voices. They told her she was evil and that they were punishing her. The voices were relentless and it was hard to think, so it took her a long time to figure it out, but she finally realized that the pain in her chest was a torture device that had been implanted by malevolent entities. Alcohol was the only thing that made the voices recede. It eased the pain and quelled her fears for a time. She sold everything she had in the apartment including all her furniture to get money to keep drinking. Before long she wasn’t bathing or eating much of anything. She couldn’t sleep and roamed the apartment complex at all hours. Her parents paid her rent again, but people were complaining and her landlord warned her that she had to get her act together or she would be out of an apartment. But she couldn’t get her act together. She was slipping into schizophrenia.


Alice Woodrome ©http://www.woodrome.com/


This was so excellent that I wanted to share. Alice is an amazing writer, artist and resilient person.