Losing It (4 page)

Dear Jo,

Thanks for that poem. I especially loved the line about being ‘one of life’s go-getters’. Very inspirational. I have never thought of myself like that before and am tempted to show it to Meredith who is more convinced I’m one of life’s couch potatoes. I know you probably only put it in to rhyme with ‘letters’ but it was a nice idea.

I have been thinking about writing a poem for you but I’m not that good at poetry. I could give it a try though…

Dear Issy,

One bad poet in the friendship is enough, Issy.

Hey, guess what? I did it. I started writing to Mum.

Dear Jo,

Wow! Jo. Your mum? Really?!

Hey, it must feel pretty strange after all these years. Well … I don’t know how I’d feel … if my mum walked out like that. I don’t know if …

Anyway, speaking of mothers, mine has gone up to Christchurch for a school principals’ conference. Can you imagine it? A hotel full of bossy boots, all telling each other what to do! Of course, she’s left us her usual
seventeen-page
instruction manual on how to survive without her.

I’m sure she wasn’t that bad before she got the
principal’s
job. Was she? She forgets we are all grown-ups now. I mean Dad’s been a grown-up ever since she’s known him (I bet he even popped out of Nan’s tummy with an Adam’s apple and a bald patch) and Kate is seventeen this year and Meredith is coming up twenty in September!!

Most girls are flatting at her age. And she would be too if she wasn’t responsible for half the country’s student debt. Trust her to go in for dentistry, which is about the most expensive thing you can study. So it looks like she’ll be around the house for ages yet, which is a pity because it would be nice with just Kate and me for a change. (Kate is a lot more easygoing and not on my back all the time.) Siblingwise, three is not a good number and I reckon
people
should only be allowed to procreate in multiples of two. Kate and I are fine until Meredith comes home and then she and Kate take sides and I end up feeling on the outer.

Meredith has recently become a fitness freak and just because she spends half her life pounding a treadmill she thinks I should do the same. I told her I don’t need to get on some boring treadmill when I’ve got tennis and she just snorts at me. And I say, what’s wrong with playing tennis and she says, well, nothing, if you actually make an effort to run after the ball. So I say, hey, just because I don’t stress about everything doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it. And she says, but that’s the problem, Issy, you’ll never get anywhere in life by trying to enjoy things. Does that make any sense to you, Jo? Because it makes none to me at all. (She is so uptight, that girl, and God knows what she’ll be like as a dentist. I pity her poor victims, er, I mean patients!)

School news. Hmmnnn … there’s an inter-school
coming
up next month and I’m supposed to be in the tennis team but Mariah Peters is challenging me for the number four spot so I might not make it. Actually, I am thinking about defaulting because it won’t be any fun without you anyway. But don’t tell Meredith or I’ll never hear the end of it. (Silly me, trying to enjoy myself again.)

Oh, and guess what else. How could I forget? The most important thing: the date for the Senior Formal was announced in assembly. So you have to get yourself home by April 26 because you absolutely can’t miss the formal. No way.

Anyway … better get this posted. I’m making pancakes for dinner (not a vegetable in sight!). Also, I’ve got a book
review due in tomorrow and I haven’t made it past chapter three yet.

Sometimes I wish I were in there with you, Jo. It must be like a vacation, with no homework to do or meals to cook. No parents breathing down your neck and laying down the law either. Make the most of it.

Luv,

Issy

P.S. How’s the weight going? How much have you put on so far?

P.P.S. You’d have laughed in Science today. We’ve started on genetics. Mr T. says ‘Can anyone explain the concept of sex determination?’ So Danny Snell puts up his hand and says ‘Is that like when someone’s real determined to have sex, Sir?’ Ha ha. Everyone cracks up.

Then, later on, Mr T. is doing a chromosome diagram and we have to work out if this cell is male or genetically abnormal. So Rebecca Short calls out, ‘Do you think there’s any difference, Sir?’

Even Mr T. had to laugh, though I could tell by the way he kept his back to us that he was trying really hard not to.

Dear Issy,

Yeah. Ha ha. Good one. And three cheers for Rebecca Short.

Shit, I’d forgotten about the school formal. Sometimes I feel like I’m in a glass bubble floating about in a fog.

Yesterday I spent most of the day in my room
watching
Charlotte trap a wasp. That was the sum total of my activity. (Unlike Charlotte who has so knackered herself that I haven’t seen her move since.)

I found an article in the
National Geographic
about spiders, which I have pinned on my wall. Not exactly Robbie Williams but at least it covers a few cracks and gives me something to read. Like a project, kind of. I have now identified Charlotte as a brown spider. I must say I’m quite glad to have a roommate. I don’t know if the cleaner’s so fussed though. She nearly freaked out when she saw the photographs and she obviously hasn’t spotted the real spider yet, which proves what a slackarse cleaner she must be.

Luv,

Jo

P.S. You must think I’ve gone nuts talking about a spider like that. Well, join the club!

‘
Let me be weightless and empty and light, then maybe I’ll find peace tonight
.’ F.C.

Dear Issy,

Good news. The doctor says I am allowed a visitor. Canyou come this Saturday? Visiting hours are two till eight. Would your dad drive you, do you think? Oh, and, can you please bring some laxatives? Sorry, but I promised Caroline I’d ask. She says you should tell the chemist that you’re really bunged up and need something strong. (The ones with senna work best, apparently.)

Can’t wait to see you again,

Luv,

Jo 

Dear Jo,

Great news that you’re allowed visitors. Does that mean you’ve put on weight? Are you sure it’s me you want to see because if you’re only allowed one visitor wouldn’t it be better to have your dad? Which reminds me …

The other day Kate and I bumped into your dad in the supermarket. (We were stocking up on junk food for when Mum’s away.) Your dad had a trolley full of baked beans and Jellimeat and was heading down the potato chip aisle. Anyway, he didn’t look good, Jo. In fact, he looked pretty bad. He says you won’t see him or even answer his letters. I didn’t tell him you were allowed a visitor because he obviously didn’t know. He is really worried about you, Jo.

Luv,

Issy

P.S. Also, I bombed out with the laxatives. The chemist shop man seemed awfully suspicious when I asked for them and he insisted on selling me fifty grams of dried prunes instead. Should I bring those?

Hi Jo,

It’s Dad. How’s it going?

Cracker weather lately. There’s even been some talk of a drought. I’m not surprised because touch rugby’s only been cancelled once all season, which has to be some kind of record – especially after last year.

Matt and I miss you heaps, Jo. The doctor says you’re still pretty crook. I’d love to come and visit but if you don’t want to see me then we’ll have to make do with letters. Matt says he’ll write when he gets around to it. You know what it’s like trying to get that boy to sit still. Mrs Jordan reckons he’s got ants in his pants. He had the school sports last week and Mr Campbell gave me the afternoon off so I could go watch. Not a bad wee hurdler, your brother, and he did quite well in long jump too.

Must take after his big sister, huh.

Mrs Jordan sends her love. She came over with a batch of shortbread last night. I told her there was no need but she seems to like a worthy cause. Oh well, better get off to bed. I’ll have to let the cat out first. Which reminds me, Sushi is fretting big time and she’s gone right off her
Jellimeat
since you left.

Be good, Jo.

Lots of love,

Dad

Dear Issy,

Thank you so, so, so, so much for coming on Saturday. It was great to see you and good for you to see what this place is like. What did you think? It’s not too bad, I guess, although the décor could do with a bit of a make-over. I know it’s hard trying to talk in the lounge with everyone listening, which is probably why you were so quiet. What did you think of Leon? Did you notice his amazing green eyes?

Anyway, it bucked me up no end having you here and I felt almost human again by the time you left. I can’t believe I didn’t take you down to my room. You should have asked. I could have introduced you to Charlotte. Sorry, I’m just not thinking straight these days.

I hope your dad didn’t mind coming all that way.

Luv,

Jo

P.S. Thanks for the prunes.

Lose weight. Gain control. Lose weight.

Gain control. Lose weight. Gain control.

Lose weight. Gain control. Lose weight.

Gain control. Lose weight. Gain control.

Ask your chemist …

Dear Jo,

It was great seeing you on Saturday, too. I’m sorry I was so quiet. To be honest, Jo, it was more of a shock than I realised. I had no idea how thin you’d got. I feel so bad. And guilty. You must have been like that before you went into hospital. So how could I not have noticed?!! My best friend turns into a skeleton right under my nose. I knew you’d lost weight, but … well, you were always wearing that baggy black top and …

I tried not to look shocked but when we hugged it was … well, far out … You kept saying how quiet I was. Mainly, I just wanted to cry. But I couldn’t because … well, how could I?

What kind of a friend must I be?

I shouldn’t be going on like this, either. I should be supporting you, being positive and all that. But I’m worried, Jo. What are you doing to yourself? You’ve got to eat. Please…

Missing you heaps.

Your best friend forever,

Issy

Dear Mum,

There’s not much happening here lately. We do a lot of talking but that’s about it.

It’s the outdoor education that I like best. I think we’re getting onto that next week. I’m looking forward to kayaking and maybe abseiling, although I’m a bit scared of heights.

What is it you do again? Something to do with
computers
, was it? We could do with a computer in this place. You’d think the ‘gifted and talented’ would be first in line for technology. My friend, Leon has a laptop he uses for music. If we had a computer we could email each other. Send photos even. I’m dying to know what you look like now. It’s been such a long time.

Dad told me once that you wanted to be a clothing designer and have your own label. Maybe you went off
to do that. Hey Mum, do you remember a book called
Charlotte’s Web
? You read it to me when I was little. It was about a spider and a pig but the ending got sad so we stopped reading. We pretended that Charlotte didn’t die – do you remember? The pig’s name was Wilbur and there was a rat called Templeton and the girl’s name was Fern and there was someone else called Lurvy (weird name!), I think. The spider tries to save the pig’s life and she does but … Yeah, well, anyway … I have a Charlotte in my room here. She’s spinning her web as we speak. Yesterday she caught a big fat wasp. She’s very clever. And she lives all on her own, without needing anyone at all.

Luv,

Jo

They said, smile and be happy, things could be worse.
So
I
smiled and was happy and things did get worse.

Patients’ rights

You have the right to privacy and the right to fair and proper treatment.

Your rights are outlined clearly under the mental health act.

A copy of this document is available on request.

Develop Inner Strength

• Speak your truth even if others find this difficult.
  
• Be courageous and move forward, even if this feels uncomfortable.
  
• Don’t compare yourself with others.
  
• Take full responsibility for your actions.
  
• Show compassion.
  
• Step out of your comfort zone.
  
• Always face facts – denial leads to pain.