"Why have I received only this?"

I asked, "Why have I received only this?" A voice replied, "'Only this' will lead you to That.

From the facebook page of Rumi
                                                                                                                                      

It is always difficult to put a dire personal situation out there in the open and to ask for help. But ever since I have come to think the WWIT way (see the post What will it take ), I am starting to see the amazing results when we open ourselves up to any and all outcome and help. In trying to have no expectations about what we perceive the best outcome will be, we do not clog the universal benevolent channels with our tiny plans.

So here goes:
     My nephew Sebastien is being admitted to a private mental care institution right about now. He is almost thirty years old (the same age as my daughter) and has been steadily falling apart the past year or two. He has been diagnosed at various day clinics of state subsidised institutions with bipolar disorder, multiple personality disorder and borderline personality disorder. He also has an Oedipus complex and my sister goes through hell because of his alternate feelings of hatred and obsessive love for her.

      He cannot live on his own, cannot be trusted to take his medicine as prescribed and can barely function at a job. He has tried to commit suicide seven times since March this year. My sister seems to have developed a sixth sense about this and the pattern has been for her to find him drugged or nearly gassed and rush him to the local state hospital because they cannot afford a medical aid. She will then sit in the truly terrible conditions of the Emergency department for hours, often through the night, waiting for a psychiatrist to see Sebastien and to discuss his condition with her. More often than not he is released with a bagful of medication which they keep changing, as soon as his stomach has been pumped or the drugs worn off in his system. They refuse to keep him there, saying they have more serious cases who need the bed he's occupying. Maybe they've given up on him, as this has happened so often.

      Her attempts to get him admitted as a full time patient to a state mental institution for treatment have been met with little sympathy, insufficient facilities to cope with the demand and the administrative system which doesn't allow for the critical nature of a suicidal person's time frame. 

      Why he has these severe problems is a question one can ponder on for very long. It suffices to say that he has known more trauma in his young life than most people would ever dream of having. His childhood, together with three brothers, him being the second eldest, had been one of total dysfunction. His father was an extremely creatively gifted person, but he displayed severe mental illness himself that went totally unchecked. My sister and the boys suffered terribly at his hand and after his death in a car accident when they were still quite young, this pattern was set forth in the desperate decisions my sister made to try and care for herself and her children. In most instances this meant going into another abusive relationship.  

     For us as family, it was extremely hard to understand at times. And we carried the burden with her as well as we could, but she was mostly terribly alone in trying to hold things together. I truly believe that she did what she could in the light that she had to steer by. I have often said if I had to live her life, I would have been buried long ago. She seems to be made of spring steel, something that can bend but will not break.

     Sebastien's brothers are doing their best at carving lives for themselves. They work hard at the jobs they have (without formal tertiary education their options are limited, and given the current situation in South Africa where young white males are carrying the brunt of Apartheid's blunders, even more limited). They seem to have hope for a future. He doesn't. Two of his best friends had committed suicide in the past two years and when I saw him last, he said: "I really can't blame them. There is nothing to live for."

     As I paint this very bleak picture, I am worried that you will stop reading and think: "Enough already! This is a hopeless case." But let's push on. It gets better.

     When I shared the concept I tried to put across in What will it take with my sister a couple of weeks ago, she agreed to try and shift her way of thinking. To stop asking why they suffer so and when things will ever get better. But to rather ask: "What will it take to get better?"

      I have seen the change in her since then. She no longer takes no for an answer from hospital personnel who send her away with no referrals for further treatment. When she came up against a wall at the very state institution they were referred to, she started searching for an alternative venue. She gathered quotes and her employer graciously agreed to give her a loan for the first month's treatment at a private clinic. She took Sebastien for an interview and he was accepted.

      It will take more than a month to help him back to normality. The estimation is for up to six months of inhouse treatment. At R8500 per month, this is something she cannot afford and we as a family will not be able to fully carry. 

      When I read the Rumi quote with the beautiful picture accompanying it, yesterday, Sebastien seemed to be the young man sitting on the bench. He loves nature and his big dream is to be a game ranger. He seems to have received so little to make his dream come true. But I want to believe what Rumi says. Sebastien had received a lot of seemingly negative things, that I believe will be put to good emphatic use once he moves out of the shadows. His "That" may be more than we ever imagined. 

So I'm putting it out there. This is what I ask: 

What will it take to heal Sebastien? 

Maybe even: 

What will it take to heal his family: his mother, siblings and himself?

Maybe what I have been given is the ability to put words to their plight. I believe it will lead to the yet unknown but adequate That. My head wants it to be the money necessary for the treatment, but maybe its not that. Maybe there's someone to meet, some place where his healing awaits. Maybe its a job he'll really love. A passion he'll discover. A touch or smile. A prayer. Maybe it's all of the above. Big or small: What will it take? Will you please join me in simply asking this?

Matilda