Old fears haunt…..

Looking back to the time 40 years ago that I have refused to think about all these years, I realised what that time gave me was a very real fear bureaucracy will let me down when I need it.  (If you are catching up, refer to my November 1 post.)

The medical bureaucracy refused to action my well-founded fear my mother would soon attempt suicide again.  I had tried to have her committed, but at only 15 I was too young to drive the process.  When she disappeared the police, despite her history, would not take any action.  They followed the rule book on the number of hours.

Had either the medical/legal professions or the police taken action when I tried to get action, perhaps my mother would still be alive.  Well, maybe not now, 40 years later, but she may have been at my wedding, she may have seen her grandchildren born.  She may have been there for me when I was learning how to be a mother myself.

I have missed my father more than my mother over the years.  Perhaps had my mother received better medical treatment at the time, my siblings and I may not have lost him too.  I will never know.

I do know that my experience left me with the fear that when the chips are down, don’t depend on any bureaucracy to take action.  It is not as if the police couldn’t have looked at the situation, checked with the hospital, then decided perhaps there was a risk here and they should DO something.

It seemed to me that no-one cared.  Only I cared, along with my too younger, scared, siblings that I was trying to look after.  Oh, did I forget to mention that we were just left alone for the week? I was 15, my sister, 11 and my brother, 8.

Is it therefore any wonder, when faced with a similar situation where members of my family are at risk and I am again waiting on a burearucracy, the same fear arises?

I was ignored before.  No action was taken.  It cost my brother, my sister and me horrifically.  I was ignored again in April of this year when the man I love was taken from me, despite the hours and hours I had spent fighting to be heard, fighting for him to heard.

Why would I expect this time, now, to be any different?  My experience is that I will be ignored again.

I DO know that this time some action has been taken – but until I have my family in my arms I will not know if I, or the bureaurcracy, have done enough or done enough fast enough.

Past experience, I have realised, casts an ever present gloom over each day that I cannot escape.