July 20, 2019

On May 13/68 the kids were asleep in the bedroom and I was about to watch Johnny Carson when I started to fall off the cliff. I would rather not describe my fantasies to you except to say they were mean and nasty culminating in an urge to throw myself off our balcony. That got my attention because along with it came this realization “I can’t do that - I am on the 12th floor, my kids would see me looking like a couple of fried eggs in the morning”. No, that won’t work. I remember so well asking myself “Now, what would or should a person do in a situation like this?” and then answering myself with “they would go to a for psychiatrist for help!” So that is what I did. I think I took a cab. As I closed the door I thought “I will never see this apartment again” and I never did see it again. Somehow I got myself downtown and to what is now called CAMH - Canadian Association of Mental Health. I don’t think kindly of the doctor who interviewed me. He doesn’t deserve my kind thoughts. “what seems to be your problem Mrs Bishop?” or possibly he called me Betty? “I am afraid [or was it I want to - or was it I think I might] I will jump off my 12th floor balcony…” “and what do you think brought this on?” “Well, my rent was due on the first of the month and I don’t have enough money to pay it.” “Seems to me you are just trying to cop out. Come back in the morning - ask to see Mrs Grayson and she will give you the money to pay your rent!” “I don’t believe you. I won’t be coming back in the morning.” “You may leave now. Go home, come back in the morning”. I could see nothing to do but leave so I left. I was around 1 AM. A very dark night - I don’t remember seeing a moon. There was construction going on at CAMH - I walked around to the back of the building and got my shoes nice and muddy. to be continued ....

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