Turning Point
A Story Every Day in 2024 March 16th 76/366
The wind from the Atlantic blasted her face, the rain-pelt of the world's greyness stinging it into pinkness. She felt alive and revelled in the sensation.
She momentarily forgot the numbness in her cheeks that had been plaguing her and the anxiety it was inducing. Nights of restless worry had her imagination taking her to stark places of chemical smells and untailored coloured scrubs. Of visiting hours and sympathetic looks. Of whispered words and dependency on car lifts. But still, she did not call the surgery. She told herself that it was difficult to get an appointment.
It was taking its toll on her. She had looked at herself in the mirror and was startled by the face there. Dark baggy eyes, still sharp but no longer fearless; pale skin, a sheen to it, sick slickness. She smiled kindly at the figure and pitied the person looking back at her.
Help me! her mirror image cried and yet, here she was, standing on a cliff edge, thinking about the ending it all. I suppose, she thought, that could be seen as a help in some ways.
Dr. Google had confirmed her suspicions: MS. She realised it was not a formal diagnosis but she couldn't, wouldn't face that. It was irrational, ill-founded and stupid but she did not have the courage to be told what she thought she knew in her bones and her nerves.
As the wind pummelled her, she closed her eyes and took some deep breaths. The wind howled, harrassing her ears, carrying the distant yip of a happy dog. If she was going to do it, she should leap: eyes closed, run full pelt and glory in its finality. She lifted her foot.
"Are you alright, love?" The wind had fooled her, muffling the sound of the dog walker's distance.
A concerned face.
She was suddenly embarrassed.
"Fine, thanks," she muttered.
"Thank goodness. I thought for a second you were going to jump!" He laughed, nervously.
Faced with such conviviality, she turned away from the cliff and said, "Not today," and laughed herself.
Her heart pounded with the realisation of the enormity of what she had just avoided.
She would seek help.
***
365 words
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76/366



Comments (7)
I see my therapist tomorrow. And I'm not even facing MS. "Tuesdays with Morrie" comes to mind.
And then there's me, screaming at her to jump 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
This felt so true to life that it scared me. I love that you ended it with courage and hope. Really well done, Rachel!
This really captures the fear of not knowing how to endure something so devastating. What’s known is that everything has changed but how to deal with what comes next is so difficult.
Oh that was tense...
This story is relatable in so many ways.
A compelling tale with a pleasantly surprising conclusion.