{"id":888,"date":"2021-05-31T15:35:52","date_gmt":"2021-05-31T15:35:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/?p=888"},"modified":"2021-05-31T15:42:04","modified_gmt":"2021-05-31T15:42:04","slug":"click-click-click","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/click-click-click\/","title":{"rendered":"Click Click Click"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Click, Click, Click<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Click, click, click, ###, click,\nclick, click, ###. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Those were the six numbers I entered\ninto the number dialog box on my cell phone. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Immediately, a new dialog box popped\nup; I entered the word HOME<\/em> and pressed send<\/em>. I took a sharp\nintake of breath, for this was the beginning of the end of the escalation of my\ngrief, the diminishment of my spirit, the tearing apart of my soul.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A quick reply followed, the words\nscrolled across my cell phone screen: Hi, this is Crisis Text Line. You\u2019re\nnot alone. By texting further with us you agree to our terms.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Crisis Text Line exists as a way\nfor those in the midst of an emergency to get immediate help. Many, unlike\nmyself, have no one to reach out to when they find themselves overwhelmed by\nemotional and physical pain that requires intervention by experienced\ncaregivers. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Originally, the helpline was an 800-telephone\nnumber. I kept the number handy in my directory ready to call if I finally\nreached the end of my rope. However, what I really wanted was a way to text\nsomeone and have a brief SMS conversation to allow me time to calm myself and\nthink rationally. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Last year I saw a Facebook page that\nshowed exactly what I wanted. I remembered the six-digit code and the word\nHome. I was relieved the word was HOME and not HELP, calling HOME was not as\nthreatening as calling HELP. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am fortunate, I have several people who\ncome to my home to help me keep my household in order, do the heavy lifting,\ncleaning and food preparation, all part of a plan originally instituted to\nallow my beloved and myself to live independently in our own home till death do\nus part. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Death did do us part. Six months ago,\nmy mate and lover crossed over the Vail to her new journey sailing the vast\nreaches of the Universe. Sailing alone without me; we were inseparable. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now I am alone.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As friendly and caring as my\ncaregivers are, I find the primary reason they take care of me is that I\ncompensate them. Their compensation goes a long way to allowing them to be here\nfrequently at the expense of their own lives. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although my family would go out of\ntheir way to give me comfort, they live distances away, distances in time and\nin keeping to their own already established schedules. If I were going to need\nprompt help, it undoubtedly wouldn\u2019t come quickly from those sources.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Like others, I have many acquaintances\nand a few close friends. Friends are friends because they understand me and\ncare about me, although I am not their principal preoccupation. I have no\npreconceived notion of what my friends are able to do for me if a quick\nresponse was needed. The refrain, \u201cI am here for you,\u201d only goes so far. In\nreality they may not be \u201chere for me\u201d when I need them the most. For example, I\nget disappointed when I call and get voicemail or when I text and get no\nresponse. That disappointment only increases my feeling of loneliness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My difficulty with being alone is that\nmy loneliness can enter a downward spiral, descending into a black hole so deep\nthat rational thoughts get left behind. I fear I may take my life to end the\nfall into darkness. Mine is not an unusual situation, the Covid-19 epidemic has\nleft many lonely and unable to find comfort in the touch of a close friend or\nloved one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now I am alone, except for the\nintuitive communications with my Angel, whose advice lately has been, \u201cCall\nthe Crisis Text Line!\u201d <\/strong>Angel doesn\u2019t have time for pleasantries, she\ndoesn\u2019t mince words, when she is concerned for my safety, she is a woman-of-action.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Years ago, I first encountered the helpline\nwhen I became interested in how I would handle my increasingly suicidal\nthoughts, triggered by my memories of the abuse of my past and my understanding\nthat my loved one may not be here for me, that I would most certainly be alone.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The other reason that I never used the\nhelpline was out of fear that the service would overreact to my emotional pain\nand call authorities \u2018for my own good\u2019 to prevent me from carrying out any\nperceived suicidal plan. After all, they have a responsibility to save<\/em>.\nOnce outside help had been summoned, it would be an additional nightmare of\nintervention and perhaps psychiatric hospital care, the attendant meds, greatly\nincreasing my burden of coping, taking care of my beloved and holding a job.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I once read about a man in China who\npatrols one of that country\u2019s highest bridges. He does so out of the goodness\nof his own heart trying to get the attention of jumpers before they go over the\nedge. Saving them was one thing, the next part of their journey would be the\nhardest part of their lives including the countless hours of counseling and\npsychiatric treatments to bring them to the point where they would be able to\nlove themselves. I wonder if a life of counseling and treatment would be right\nfor me? Would I simply be better off moving along to the next part of my\njourney into the Universe? I consider that to be a rational question\nconsidering my understanding of how my energy exists within the Universe. I am\nonly passing through; why make my journey here on earth any more difficult than\nit is?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is a true story of a very\ntroubled man, a military service man in top physical shape, but suffering from\nbouts of severe depression and Schizophrenia, who jumped from the Golden Gate\nBridge in San Francisco. On the way down he questioned himself as to why he\njumped and he made a deal with himself that if he survived, he would live a\nlife of service to other sufferers considering suicide.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because of his superb physical\ncondition, he survived and has dedicated his life to appearances with audiences\nwishing to know more about how to manage their own lives of mental discomfort\nand questions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Personally, my grief does not follow\nany particular linear plan. Mine appears to come in waves of more painful\nemotions spread farther apart in time. It has been six months now, six months\nof increasing loneliness and emotional pain. Not only emotional pain but\nunrelenting physical pain, which only yields to prescription meds, but still,\nthe physical pain is the result of a broken brain and fractured soul because of\nthe loss of my beloved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hey, I\u2019m Clara\nand I am here for you. Will you share more about what\u2019s going on?<\/em> These were the very pleasant and comforting\nwords of a woman who typed into the dialog box on my cellphone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

(Me) My spouse of fifty-two years passed\naway 6 months ago. I have very caring family and friends. Nighttime is the\nworst so I thought I should have a back-up person if my mood gets low.<\/em> I\nslowly pushed the keys on my ancient flip phone hoping not to make too many\nspelling errors and in keeping with the new shorthand of text messaging, the\nnew world of SMS, the world of description not to exceed 160 characters per\nentry. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

(Clara) That\u2019s an incredibly\ndifficult situation to be in and you\u2019re strong for reaching out today. It\u2019s\nhard when you\u2019re alone and everything gets overwhelming.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Immediately I understood that Clara,\nif that was her real name, got it. I lowered my guard. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

(Me) I feel relieved now to be able\nto connect with someone fast.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

(Clara) It\u2019s always good to talk\nwith someone. I can tell you\u2019re a compassionate person and care very much for\nothers.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was not sure how she knew that, but\nit was comforting and built up my depreciated self-image.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

(Me) Don\u2019t want to be a bother. Txt\nis better than the phone. Plus, I feel you may be impartial<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

(Clara) Your peace and mental\nhealth are important. It\u2019s understandable to feel like you may be a bother but\nit is important to remember to take care of yourself however you can. By\nreaching out, you\u2019re taking the first step towards feeling better. You\u2019re no\nbother at all. I\u2019m here to support you and I\u2019m glad you reached out.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Our text exchange went on and I got\nthe impression that Clara didn\u2019t want me to disconnect the call. Clara\nreiterated someone would be available 24\/7 if I needed to text back. She asked\nme if I wanted to keep talking or end the call? I preferred to end the call. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the end of our text session an\nautomated message sprang up asking me if I wanted to complete a brief survey as\nto how my text session went. I was too worn out from the stress of making that\ntext call, I put the phone down so I could reflect on my emotional state. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked at the time, it was 6:19 p.m.,\nI began the text session at 5:50 p.m. Thirty minutes with brief periods of time\nwhile each of us typed our responses. I was surprised and relieved by how easy\nit was to make a connection. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Feeling less alone and knowing I had\nmade some progress towards taking care of myself without the involvement of\nfamily or friends, I got ready for bed. Finding myself too tired from the\nemotions of talking to someone new about my problems, I elected not to read but\nto turn out the light and try to sleep. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Later that night I found myself\nsharing my bed with four of our cats, a seldom occurrence. The cats felt my\ntension and unhappiness; they decided to be there to comfort me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I slept fitfully, I knew that I must\naddress my suicidal thoughts, having a knowing ear was helpful but not enough.\nIt was medicinal but not a cure.    <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

You’re not alone.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[219,218,217],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/888"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=888"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/888\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":894,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/888\/revisions\/894"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=888"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=888"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=888"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}