| "Quotas" |
| Sitemap Quotas |
| Maggie sat, quietly as the day grew around her....face etched with shadows... eyes dark pools reflecting the nothingness she felt. Another day. After yet another day. Endless unceasing days piling one on top of each other, that she dragged herself through. She closed her green eyes flecked with amber once lustrous and lit from within with light and merriment and joy, now opaque and the colour of a forest pool in darkest winter. Thought furrowed her brow and rippled through her mind; mentally juggling pieces and segments of a life broken and scattered... A shrill brrrrrrrrrring startled her. She jumped...visibly. She looked at the phone and closed her eyes willing the noise to stop. Unknowingly she held her breath while the rings tolled through the house a 20th century funereal set of tones breathing again only when it stopped. The house settled. It rang again... She checked her watch... 7am... it was obvious they were not going to give up so she reached over and lifted the receiver. "Hi" One word barked out.. the sound of her own voice sounded alien..it had been days since she had spoken a word. Sharon's voice bounced back all cheer and overdone joie de vie... Maggie cringed...In the background she heard the sound of running water and knew her sister was filling a bath. She closed her eyes and saw the scene, handsfree phone, mug of coffee, full bath, oils, salts bubbles and sister in the center of it all sorting out HER life. Mags inhaled. Sharon started. How did that girl have an unerring instinct for those moments when she was at her lowest ebb? Never failed in all these years. Obviously Mum had phoned Sharon who could only stay out of it for 4 days. No pause. " Have you ever considered cognitive therapy or prozac to help you over the rough patch." Slight pause, but before Maggs could react she was back into it... splashing as background music. Shaz even finished it with names and addressed of two therapists which Mags pretended to take down. She has learned a long time before that Shaz never listens so it does no good trying to argue, so she decided to hear it out, make the nice noises and hang up as soon as possible. Gall rose all the way through, outrage at the presumption, all in the mistaken belief she was helping. Her attitude always had been DON'T tell me my mind is made up and I don't want to be confused with the facts. Mags dilemma was in trying to push down the desire to rip her apart verbally when she looked beyond the shallow words and the none too subtle putdowns to see Shaz really honestly believed she was helping and it was done in love. Sharon's next topic was Prozac. "Now you are so low..." PAUSE...Maggs was astounded at Sharon's attempt to be diplomatic and tactful. She bit back an ironic snicker. "There is nothing wrong with something to dull the high and lows chemically as a contingency." Maggs took a breath "Shaz I know what I am doing to deal with this. I out myself on automatic and do NOTHING for 48 hours...just force myself to do what I normally must. By then I have evened out. The dangerous time is that first 48 hours. The shock does terrible things....to me." Sharon continued as if Maggs hadn't opened her mouth. "Drugs are good and you can use them. Famous people do it all the time..." Maggs thought of Princess Dianna and Prozac and where she was now.... and realised talking with Sharon wasn't possible. She bit back caustic comments about shallow vacuous judgement from someone with a perfect husband, home and family... when all her hopes and dreams had fallen to dust beneath her leaving a huge emptiness. Maggie needed to feel, and work through all levels of feeling and understand, and it was her way. Sharon was trying to talk her into using chemical means to postpone healing. Does she not understand how short life is?? How precious these feelings are... how important it is to work through this before they become ghosts that motivate all of the rest of life's choices????? Maggs says not one word, removed far distant in her mind. Sharon self righteously pauses for a sip of her coffee. Maggs hears her sip...hears the fluid trickle down her sisters throat. "Anyways..",, said Sharon, "have you every thought you might have exceeded your quota of love? " maggie could not believe she had just heard that. Where did the quota come from? Who sets it? Who decides? Who determines that the law of averages must be recognised in this instance? Sharon continued: "Some of my friends have NEVER had a serious relationship. You need to dwell on the positive. I use you as an example to all of my friends to get them up and out there. I mean you are the last person on earth anyone would expect would find a man who wanted you. I mean look at you... with your kids and your past and at your age you still get up there and where DO these men come from??? You can't expect them to last. Face facts sis... you have had more than your share of love when some ofmy friends have had none at all. " Maggie took this all in, immune to the barbs and the "prgmatic criticism" her sister used to make Maggs deal with reality. Cold, hard reality. Life had sideswiped her, and her sister was supporting what life had done. In truth underneath the appearing concern, Sharon had always been threatened by Maggie and all she was. Sharon always stayed close and safe, and stable and Maggie reached for something just ahead, unseen, unheard; felt. Sharon really believed she was being comforting and had it all sorted out. Sharon was helping her sister. "Thank you for caring and for ringing, I really must go now" and Maggie hung up and curled up tiny and small in the corner of the lounge and drowned in a river of tears as the emptiness inside her swallowed her whole. Several suburbs away Sharon emptied her bath and towel dried pleased she had helped her sister see reason. |
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