The Moment He Came Back To Me

This may not be specifically about mental health, but I really feel I ought to talk about this: Today has been the scariest day of my life.

Jules (my boyfriend) went out this morning, while I was still in bed and told me he was going busking. I had planned to go into town later to get a few things, but I realised he had my bank card. And so I made several failed attempts to get hold of him, but assuming he couldn’t hear his phone above the music.

I was quite tired, and so I decided to stay in for a couple more hours and watch trash on Netflix, little did I know disaster was about to strike.

An hour or so later, there was quite an aggressive few rings on the door. Although I usually ignore it, this time I thought perhaps Jules didn’t have his key. God I wish that had been the case. I stood at the top of the stairs, seeing that his dad had answered the door. I heard a woman say “Do you know this man? We found him passed out on the door step.” Oddly, his dad said no and went to shut the door but I felt I should help; help out what I thought would be a stranger, perhaps a drunk.

As I reached the door, all I saw were Jules’ legs, and instantly recognised the shoes I bought him. I couldn’t believe it, it was so surreal in that one moment. I could not make sense of it; how could he have gone out only hours earlier to have a gentle busk, alone, and end up lying flat out on our doorstep?

I crouched down on the pavement and tried to talk to him and ask how he came to be in this state. But he was gone. His eyes rolled into his head and incapable of understanding me. For a little while he was unconscious, but when he came around he could not even recognise me, and my heart broke.

I was so freaked out I had no idea what to do or how to help him. I thought he was going to die. When I touched him I could hear his heart racing terribly.

But I saw behind me that an ambulance had already arrived. It was nigh on impossible to get him up, he was totally immobile and had no power over using his limbs. I told them straight away that I was positive he had taken drugs and I felt so angry, but so upset and frightened that I had to ignore it at least for a while.

Once in the ambulance he suddenly went completely insane. He was making no sense at all, but still shouting and saying totally mad things that were totally senseless. The way he was talking actually made me feel a little frightened. Although he was a little aggressive without knowing it, I was sure he was not violent or was going to be. But he grabbed the paramedic’s arm and squeezed tightly. At this point, stupidly, both of the ambulance members ran away, which I thought was pathetic. He was clearly not in his right mind, but he is still my Jules; he is still harmless. And so, pathetically, one of them called the police and insisted we restrain him, which really pissed me off. That is pretty much the worst thing you should do to a person who is massively tripping out. All this man kept saying was that he has two young children and he cannot afford to get injured, however Jules showed no signs whatsoever that he was going to hurt anyone.

However. Jules then proceeded to throw himself out of the ambulance, although I still have no idea what he was trying to do and now he does not remember (as he cannot remember most of the things that went on). I tried my hardest to catch him as he fell, but he manged to hit his head aggressively on the concrete, three times. This also made me believe that he was going to kill himself. But no one would help me, even though it was clearly I was not strong enough, as they were ‘scared’ of being near him. I mean, is it not their job to help people like that?!

After that he insisted on going back in the house and kept saying he wanted water, and so they actually allowed me to escort him inside. I think he actually benefitted from being in a familiar environment (although his dad didn’t seem to care in the slightest and continued to watch television, giving me yet another reason to hate him and prove he is a nasty, selfish person.) To encourage him to calm down, I told him he could see Subi (our dog) who was all over him, knowing something was up, and sat on his lap.

I gave him water but I basically had to feed it to him but I thought- briefly- it was helping and he was improving. But by the time the police arrived (even though I told them not to come in), he was in and out of insanity again and I started to get scared. Back in the ambulance, I broke down and cried my eyes out, but no one comforted me. I was losing my boyfriend, and through the stupidest thing: Drugs, and what turned out to be a lethal legal high. One moment of foolishness and your world turns upside down.

Finally, he began to calm down and after a couple of hours he seemed to be getting back to his usual self. The paramedic could see that he is a kind and placid person and so told the police to leave. He started throwing up which I was glad about just to get it out of his system.

And so this is the point I wanted to get to: I saw my man lying there, barely with it and unable to keep his eyes open, pale as anything and with a dangerous heart rate. I stroked his hair and talked to him gently and comforted him. At last, he finally looked at me and I could see the recognition that I had feared had gone completely. And he smiled at me, despite all his trauma. I looked into those oh so familiar eyes and saw his vulnerability, and I realised that after so long, and after so many fights and denial and lovelessness  in our relationship for multiple months- I loved him, with every inch of me. I wanted to care for him, be there for him no matter what and do whatever I can to fix him. Our love, for me, had suddenly been born again, and I was so happy and grateful for that.

Going back to my story: He was given the option of staying home or going to hospital for further tests. He was still pretty out of it and so couldn’t answer for a while, but I had to convince him that everybody only wanted to help him; and I said that I wanted him to go, even if just for me to reduce my fear for his life. He said ‘Will Michaela be with me?’ and I assured him that I would not leave his side, no matter how many hours or days or weeks it would take to get him better.

There was a lot of waiting in the hospital, as always, but eventually they checked his heart and did blood tests. Again- thank the universe-his heart rate had gone back to normal and all his bloods were fine. He slept a lot, and this gave me great comfort that he was in peace after so much madness. When he came to he just kept asking me again and again to find him food. He was obvious he had the munchies from the drugs and ate a hell of a lot! I was able to hold his hand and kiss him. I was so happy to see I had him back; after being the most scared I have been in my 25 years, after thinking I was going to lose him forever, I found the man I had fallen in love with one year ago. I found him again.

After the test results, he was discharged and we were able to come home. Right now he sleeps peacefully by my side.

That moment of unconditional love will probably not be enough to fix our broken relationship. But knowing I want to be with him- after thinking for a long time I had no choice but to leave him- is certainly a good start. It took insanity (literally) to make me realise this today, although it is shame it had to come to this to get back to that stage. I am now willing to put my all into our currently broken relationship.

I told him all of this today, and I hope he could tell by my actions that I am with him through all of this, even though I am angry about the drugs. I hope he can appreciate how much I took care of him and showed him my love today. After the recent conversations we have had where he has said that he no longer loves me, I don’t know if his feelings have changed or maybe ever will change. The choice now solely lies in his hands.


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