The day Maura realised she was wrong when she thought she had already hit rock bottom was on her fourth day in treatment.
Tired, dry hands cradled a bowl of oatmeal as Maura rocked gently in a wooden rocking chair, other patients and staff milling around her at the breakfast time rush.
Even though her mother had implored her to accept a sleeping aid should the offer arise, Maura had refused it every time the kind night shift nurse offered. Instead, Maura tossed and turned in her bed until the last of her fellow patients retreated to their own rooms and then collected her large throw blanket and walked silently to the large conservatory. There she stayed, only ever dozing lightly, until the morning shift arrived and she began her morning routine.
"Maura."
The blonde slowly lifted her head and smiled when she saw the night shift nurse, coat and hat already bundled on. She reminded Maura of a childhood nanny—dark skin, kind eyes, and an accent from a south African country she couldn't quite place at the time.
"Good morning," the blonde said softly.
"If you don't start sleeping, they'll turn that sleeping med from an option to an order," she explained softly. "You need your rest."
"I'm getting sleep," Maura countered.
"Not enough. I have tonight off but next time I'm in, I want to see you sleeping soundly in that big bed of yours."
With a gently pat on Maura's arm, the nurse zipped her coat up and made her way out of the unit.
Maura stared at the door, oatmeal in her hands forgotten, until the first group of the day was called to order.
"Alright, everyone," a middle aged care assistant called out over the conference room. "Everyone in this group has arrived to us within the past week which means our focus today will be on goal setting."
Maura picked up the pencil from the table in front of her and, while the staff member was still speaking, wrote a single goal.
Get better for Jane.
"Now, when we think about goals we want to follow the SMART model," the staff member continued. "Specific. Measurable. Attainable. Realistic. Time-based. The number of your goals doesn't matter to me—I would much rather prefer one or two really SMART goals as opposed to a lot of goals that aren't well developed."
The pencil still in her hand, Maura stared at the 4 words written in her notebook. She knew the goal she had written didn't fit the criteria set forth but it was the only goal she wanted to accomplish.
Everyone in the seats around her reached for their pencils almost simultaneously, a hint that the care assistant had stopped her explanation and allowed the residents to begin the independent aspect of the goal setting before no doubt being asked to share.
"Get better for Jane," the staff member read as she paused next to where Maura sat. "That's not a very SMART goal, Maura. Let's take a look to see how we can make it better."
"It's the only goal that matters to me," Maura said softly. "I don't think there could be a better goal."
"Okay," the woman replied as she pulled out the empty chair next to Maura and sat down, facing sideways to face the doctor. "We don't have to change the goal, but we need more specifics. Can I ask who Jane is?"
"The most important person in my life. My best friend and…" she trailed off. "Someone I hope to begin a romantic relationship with when I return home to Boston."
"Okay. And what does being 'better for Jane' look like, specifically?"
Maura remained silent, trying to imagine a life with Jane that wasn't marred by the drowning sensation that had plagued her for months. She smiled softly as she imagined waking up with Jane's arms around her every morning and Jo Friday yapping to greet her every night upon return home.
"Things would go back to how they were, but better," Maura replied. "She would move in and we would start our lives together. We would travel the world and start a family and-"
"That sounds like what things will look like once you're better," the woman interrupted. "I want to know what specifically you think needs to happen to get there."
Maura sighed heavily, wishing the woman would just leave her alone and move along to someone else in the group.
"I don't know, but when it happens I will know."
"That sounds an awful lot like trying to score a goal in a goalpost you can't even see."
"It's not," Maura countered.
"'I'll know it when I see it,' sounds an awful lot like blind faith. If this really is the only goal you want to focus on-"
"It is."
"Then you'll need to think about specific tasks or attainable milestones to get you to that goal. Let me rapid fire some questions: does getting better mean taking your medications every day, eating 3 square meals, and sleeping 8 hours a night?"
Maura brought her elbows onto the table and cradled her head in her hands, the thunderous sound of white water rapids rushing in her ears.
"Do you want to be discharged from high intensity treatment and only seen on a, say, weekly basis by a treatment team in order to be considered better?"
The staff members tone, once kind and genuine, slowly morphed into a condescending tone as she continued to press Maura despite the blonde's bets efforts to shrink herself down.
"What sort of time line do you want to accomplish this goal by-are you rushing to finish before the New Year, or is this something you want to finish by, say, spring time?"
By now Maura could feel the eyes of the other residents slowly turn to focus on her and the staff member who continued to press her. She closed her eyes and pleaded silently for the woman to stop.
"What is it that you are currently lacking that you feel you need to be better for Jane?"
"I don't know," Maura managed to reply, emotions bubbling inside of her.
"They're tough questions, but we need to endure tough questions-"
The patronising tone was too much for Maura to listen to anymore.
"I said I don't know!" she snapped angrily, rising to her feet and looking at the woman who had questioned her. "I don't know what I need to do, I don't know anything other than the fact I want to get better to be the woman Jane deserves! That's obviously why I'm here!"
"Okay, Maura," the staff member tried to soothe. "It's okay to not know. Let's step out in the hallway so we don't disturb the others who are working."
"They're not working!" Maura laughed angrily. "Most of them stopped working to watch as you questioned me and refused to let up even when I was visibly upset!"
The staff member looked around and realized most residents had blank notebooks in front of them and pencils lay unused on the desks, evidence they had in fact been observing the two of them.
"Take your ridiculous SMART goals and patronising attitude and shove it," Maura said, tears falling from her eyes as she grabbed her treatment notebook and stormed out of the room.
The short journey through the dayroom and down the corridor to her room was marred as tears filled her eyes and the staff woman's incessant questioning repeated on a loop in Maura's mind. She shut her door loudly, painful sobs escaping as soon as she was alone.
"I want to go home," Maura gasped as she braced her hands against the wall and tried to gulp down air. She looked at the wall in front of here where one of the photos her mother printed was taped to the wall-she and Jane's laughing faces at the previous year's Isles Christmas Party looked back at her.
Her door gently opened to reveal a nurse, usually stationed at the medication counter, and a different care provider.
"Please just leave," Maura begged as she turned and slid down the wall, her head swirling as she desperately tried to keep afloat.
"You know we can't do that," the grey haired nurse said gently.
"Yes you can!" Maura shouted as she grabbed her treatment notebook and began to shred the papers. She didn't understand the destructive urges coursing through her but she felt as if there was no other way for her pain to escape than through physical means. "I'm trying but apparently it's just not good enough!" Maura continued, throwing her notebook across the room. "I'm going to drown regardless!"
The two women spoke silently to each other as they watched Maura slide her slippers off her feet and throw them in the same direction as the destroyed notebook.
"I just want to get better!" Maura cried out, slamming her back against the wall as the pain she had kept back for months overwhelmed her. "It's not fair," she sobbed, taking her head in her hands and pressing her nails into her scalp.
Never had the drowning sensation felt as crushing to Maura as it felt in that moment. In the midst of the pain and lack of air, Maura felt herself panicking and lashing out just to try and keep hold of something solid.
The nurse turned and ran back to the nurses' station, leaving the care assistant to watch and Maura struggled to catch her breath.
"I hate who I've become," Maura cried out, finally vocalising the anguish inside of her. "Please, just let me go. I don't want to do this anymore!"
The nurse came jogging back into the room with a small syringe and a doctor who stood observing from the doorway.
"Maura, I have something here that's going to help," she soothed. Unlike the woman leading group, her voice was calm and genuine.
"Please, leave me alone," Maura sobbed as she rocked herself back and forth, head hitting the wall each time she came into contact with it. "I can't do this. I'll never be better."
"Oh, hush now," the older woman soothed. "It's only been a few days. I can see you're a fighter."
"I don't want to be," Maura replied. She moved her hands from the sides of her head to the front, the heels of her palms resting on her forehead. It took only a few moments for her to use the heels of her hands to repeatedly hit her head, as if the pain could be knocked out as easily.
"Okay, we can't have you hurting yourself," the nurse said. "You'll feel a sharp scratch, okay, Maura?"
In an instant, the nurse brought the syringe to Maura's arm and swiftly injected the sedative.
"Let's get you into bed so you're comfortable," the nurse instructed as she stood up and, with assistance from the care assistant, helped Maura to her bed.
"I can't do this," Maura cried softly. "Please. It's too much. It hurts. I'm drowning."
"Hurting means you're healing," the nurse replied as she pulled the blankets up and over Maura.
"I just want to see Jane," Maura admitted, her words slurring as the medication entered her system. "Be better for her."
With the medication in her system, Maura allowed a deep sleep to claim her for the first time since her arrival. The nurse and doctor left shortly after, and the care assistant tidied up the mess of papers before pulling up a chair and starting her watch.
The following night, just a few minutes before midnight, Maura silently walked from her room to the nursing station.
"Heading off to the conservatory?" the kind nurse asked upon seeing Maura come to a stop in front of her.
"No," Maura replied softly, her voice hoarse from disuse. "I was wondering if I could have that tablet to help me sleep?"
"Of course you can, darling," the nurse smiled. "Let me just scan your bracelet and I'll get that right up for you."
Maura held her wrist out, allowing the nurse to scan her medical bracelet barcode. A drawer on the medical trolley popped open and, with gloved hands, she popped a tablet into a small medicine cup. After a few more scans of barcodes, the nurse placed both the small medicine cup and a paper cup of water in front of the blonde.
"Thank you…" Maura trailed off, realising she wasn't sure of the other woman's name.
"Letitia," the nurse filled in. "But you can call me Tee."
"Thank you, Tee," Maura smiled softly as she picked up the cup.
"I'm just glad to see you're taking care of yourself," the nurse smiled.
Nodding, Maura took one last look at the small, non-descript pill before closing her eyes and tipping it into her mouth. She took a large sip of water to wash it down and was greeted by a smiling Tee.
"It's true what they say that the first one is the hardest," Tee said as she cleared the small cups into the bin. "But with some good sleep and good food, you'll be on the right track in no time."
"I'm not sure the food here would be considered good," Maura laughed softly.
Holding a finger up, Tee disappeared behind a dividing wall and returned with a plastic container. She opened the lid and tilted it so Maura could peer inside.
"Home-made samosas," the nurse smiled. "I always make too many. Help yourself."
"Oh, no," Maura tried to refuse. "I couldn't take your lunch."
"I'm flattered you think I could eat this many," Tee laughed. "They don't reheat well so they need to be eaten tonight."
Maura took a moment to contemplate before reaching into the container and pulling out a triangular samosa.
"That's a good girl," Tee smiled as she picked up her own and raised it in a toast to Maura. "Cheers. We're gonna get some meat on those bones. Just you wait."
For the first time, Maura's smile was genuine.