CHAPTER 5 A horrendous day
Nerang (1), Gold Coast, November 1992
Luke:
The new house in Nerang was wonderful. It was in a quiet street. It had a brand-new kitchen and a huge living room at the back which looked out on a large backyard. It was ideal for the kids. I was also much closer to work and Jenny closer to the shops and other facilities. There was a medical centre about two minutes up the road.
The changes seemed to have a good effect on Jenny’s mood. She always loved changes and became alive when we moved to a new environment. She’d shop for all the bits and pieces we needed to make the new house livable and she’d move furniture around almost daily until she was satisfied that it was perfect. Although her behaviour was a bit obsessive, it was a great relief that she was more cheerful. Unfortunately, this didn’t last long and some days it was back to deep depression and “I had a horrendous day.” Her moods began to swing. At times when she was really down, I would sit with her and talk to her to get her to focus on the good things in life.
“You have two beautiful children who love you and they are healthy and happy. This is because of you, because you are a good mother. You’re doing a great job with them. I’ve got a job, I only work until 1.30 everyday and we have enough money now.”
Sometimes I spent an hour before she would finally pick up and smile again. However, it wouldn’t last long. One evening after a long pep talk, we were laughing aloud for the first time in ages. It was a wonderful experience to have Jenny back the way she used to be. We used to laugh a lot together about silly little things and I always loved it that she enjoyed my sense of humour. After this good belly-laugh we got up and Jenny went to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I wondered what she was doing and I looked around the house. I found her sitting in a heap on the floor next to our bed. She was sobbing away and told me that she felt so rotten.
“But we were just laughing. I don’t understand. What happened?!”
I was confused and Jenny’s answer didn’t really explain anything.
Life became increasingly difficult and stressful. I never knew what to expect when I came home from work. Occasionally parts of the house were cleaned up but over the next months it became more and more untidy. I desperately tried to keep on top of the housework but Jenny was so disorganised that it took me the whole weekend to bring some order into the place. I started to find dirty clothes and nappies and wet towels in the strangest places. It seemed that she dressed and undressed the kids and herself all over the house and then left clothes and nappies there. I found left-over food everywhere and even banana peels in between the cushions of the couch. Many things went missing. I couldn’t find some of the kitchen utensils and some of the kids’ toys. I assumed they were somewhere in the stuff on the floor in one of the rooms. Washing-up piled up on the sink and bags of rubbish sat on the kitchen benches for days.
Jenny became very uncommunicative and it was hard to get her attention. When I did and asked her to please wash up, we usually ended up in arguments. She told me she did housework all day long and was tired of it at night. I should do some and see what it was like. She became more and more critical of me. Nothing I did was good enough. One day, I asked her numerous times to wash up and she kept saying she would do it in a minute. She was sitting in the living room on the floor playing with the kids as usual. They were making some kind of cut-and-paste collage. I really needed her to help, because I had so many other things to do and I wanted to cook dinner. I noticed I just wasn’t getting through to her and finally did the huge washing up myself. When I was finally finishing up, she came into the kitchen and looked at the sink. I was just emptying it when she criticised me about not wiping it.
“Look how dirty you leave it. You do this all the time. Can’t you wipe it properly?”
I was flabbergasted. How dare she criticise me, while she does nothing all day? She was the most difficult person I had ever met in my life and I was married to her! I couldn’t cope anymore; this is ridiculous! I told Jenny that if the kids were hungry, she could give them a sandwich and that I had to go for a walk to think. I was so angry – angry with her and angry with God. I walked to a nearby park and sat down at a picnic table. I looked up at the starry sky and screamed in a whisper:
“Oh God, help me! You’ve got to have something better for me than this!”
After I sat there for a while and had cooled off, I walked back home. I didn’t expect anything to happen as a result of this desperate prayer.
What really freaked me out was that I noticed at night lying next to her that she often stopped breathing. I had to remind her to breathe and she would vaguely acknowledge and take a breath but it was usually irregular. Eventually one doctor put her on an anti-depressant and convinced her to stop breastfeeding. There was some improvement but it didn’t last. When the doctor suggested she should see a psychiatrist, she never went back to him. There was no way she was going to see a psychiatrist, she wasn’t crazy. She still believed that she was going through deep personal development.
However, one day I did finally convince her to see a psychiatrist. The problem was that psychiatric help was not covered under Medicare and extremely expensive. One of the doctors had recommended a psychiatrist who was also a General Practitioner so he was able to claim his consultations on the government and we wouldn’t have to pay. We went there early one morning when Jenny was in a very agitated state and waited around in the car park under the building for the office to open. Jenny was pacing and wanted to leave. I persuaded her to wait; it was a quarter to eight and it would only take fifteen minutes. They finally opened the door and we had to wait because there was someone with an appointment at eight. We sat in the waiting room for about twenty minutes and I kept an eye on the door of the doctor’s office. Eventually two men came out and I wondered if I could tell which one was the psychiatrist and which one the patient. One was dressed in badly matched casual clothes with messy hair and a beard and the other in a suit with no tie. His hair was in order and he was well-shaven. Looking at the expressions on their faces I guessed the guy in the suit was the doctor because he looked quite at peace and more together. When they got to the reception desk, they shook hands and the man in the suit left. Oops, I thought, I was wrong. However, I kept an open mind and we were called in. He was a nice enough guy but spent the whole time talking about my background instead of Jenny’s. He said he would get to that later. However, we needed something immediately for her to calm her down. He said he couldn’t just give her anything without finding out more and this would take weeks because he was very busy. He could see us once a week and slowly diagnose the situation. We left very disappointed and never went back.
Jenny:
I was seeing visions, many of which I have forgotten. At this point in my life I suddenly became interested in drawing. I began to draw pictures of demons. Only I didn’t know that they were. I found that I could talk to the children’s toys. Then all at once I heard God say quite audibly that they were evil. I loaded up the car boot with everything and anything that was evil, as I saw it, including some of the children’s much loved toys and Luke’s favourite kitchen knives and tools. I took a drive and decided to take all the stuff to the dump. However, I got lost and couldn’t find it so I ended up stopping on the free way and throwing out everything in the bush.
Jesus appeared to me in a vision. He stood outside the house and looked at me sorrowfully. His image was like that of water quivering as he stood there, and I knew that the only way to be rid of this entire barrage of lies, pain and anguish of living with this intolerable manifestation would be to go and find Jesus. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that only He could give me the answers that I sought.
If you would like to read the rest of the story, order here:
Nerang (1), Gold Coast, November 1992
Luke:
The new house in Nerang was wonderful. It was in a quiet street. It had a brand-new kitchen and a huge living room at the back which looked out on a large backyard. It was ideal for the kids. I was also much closer to work and Jenny closer to the shops and other facilities. There was a medical centre about two minutes up the road.
The changes seemed to have a good effect on Jenny’s mood. She always loved changes and became alive when we moved to a new environment. She’d shop for all the bits and pieces we needed to make the new house livable and she’d move furniture around almost daily until she was satisfied that it was perfect. Although her behaviour was a bit obsessive, it was a great relief that she was more cheerful. Unfortunately, this didn’t last long and some days it was back to deep depression and “I had a horrendous day.” Her moods began to swing. At times when she was really down, I would sit with her and talk to her to get her to focus on the good things in life.
“You have two beautiful children who love you and they are healthy and happy. This is because of you, because you are a good mother. You’re doing a great job with them. I’ve got a job, I only work until 1.30 everyday and we have enough money now.”
Sometimes I spent an hour before she would finally pick up and smile again. However, it wouldn’t last long. One evening after a long pep talk, we were laughing aloud for the first time in ages. It was a wonderful experience to have Jenny back the way she used to be. We used to laugh a lot together about silly little things and I always loved it that she enjoyed my sense of humour. After this good belly-laugh we got up and Jenny went to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I wondered what she was doing and I looked around the house. I found her sitting in a heap on the floor next to our bed. She was sobbing away and told me that she felt so rotten.
“But we were just laughing. I don’t understand. What happened?!”
I was confused and Jenny’s answer didn’t really explain anything.
Life became increasingly difficult and stressful. I never knew what to expect when I came home from work. Occasionally parts of the house were cleaned up but over the next months it became more and more untidy. I desperately tried to keep on top of the housework but Jenny was so disorganised that it took me the whole weekend to bring some order into the place. I started to find dirty clothes and nappies and wet towels in the strangest places. It seemed that she dressed and undressed the kids and herself all over the house and then left clothes and nappies there. I found left-over food everywhere and even banana peels in between the cushions of the couch. Many things went missing. I couldn’t find some of the kitchen utensils and some of the kids’ toys. I assumed they were somewhere in the stuff on the floor in one of the rooms. Washing-up piled up on the sink and bags of rubbish sat on the kitchen benches for days.
Jenny became very uncommunicative and it was hard to get her attention. When I did and asked her to please wash up, we usually ended up in arguments. She told me she did housework all day long and was tired of it at night. I should do some and see what it was like. She became more and more critical of me. Nothing I did was good enough. One day, I asked her numerous times to wash up and she kept saying she would do it in a minute. She was sitting in the living room on the floor playing with the kids as usual. They were making some kind of cut-and-paste collage. I really needed her to help, because I had so many other things to do and I wanted to cook dinner. I noticed I just wasn’t getting through to her and finally did the huge washing up myself. When I was finally finishing up, she came into the kitchen and looked at the sink. I was just emptying it when she criticised me about not wiping it.
“Look how dirty you leave it. You do this all the time. Can’t you wipe it properly?”
I was flabbergasted. How dare she criticise me, while she does nothing all day? She was the most difficult person I had ever met in my life and I was married to her! I couldn’t cope anymore; this is ridiculous! I told Jenny that if the kids were hungry, she could give them a sandwich and that I had to go for a walk to think. I was so angry – angry with her and angry with God. I walked to a nearby park and sat down at a picnic table. I looked up at the starry sky and screamed in a whisper:
“Oh God, help me! You’ve got to have something better for me than this!”
After I sat there for a while and had cooled off, I walked back home. I didn’t expect anything to happen as a result of this desperate prayer.
What really freaked me out was that I noticed at night lying next to her that she often stopped breathing. I had to remind her to breathe and she would vaguely acknowledge and take a breath but it was usually irregular. Eventually one doctor put her on an anti-depressant and convinced her to stop breastfeeding. There was some improvement but it didn’t last. When the doctor suggested she should see a psychiatrist, she never went back to him. There was no way she was going to see a psychiatrist, she wasn’t crazy. She still believed that she was going through deep personal development.
However, one day I did finally convince her to see a psychiatrist. The problem was that psychiatric help was not covered under Medicare and extremely expensive. One of the doctors had recommended a psychiatrist who was also a General Practitioner so he was able to claim his consultations on the government and we wouldn’t have to pay. We went there early one morning when Jenny was in a very agitated state and waited around in the car park under the building for the office to open. Jenny was pacing and wanted to leave. I persuaded her to wait; it was a quarter to eight and it would only take fifteen minutes. They finally opened the door and we had to wait because there was someone with an appointment at eight. We sat in the waiting room for about twenty minutes and I kept an eye on the door of the doctor’s office. Eventually two men came out and I wondered if I could tell which one was the psychiatrist and which one the patient. One was dressed in badly matched casual clothes with messy hair and a beard and the other in a suit with no tie. His hair was in order and he was well-shaven. Looking at the expressions on their faces I guessed the guy in the suit was the doctor because he looked quite at peace and more together. When they got to the reception desk, they shook hands and the man in the suit left. Oops, I thought, I was wrong. However, I kept an open mind and we were called in. He was a nice enough guy but spent the whole time talking about my background instead of Jenny’s. He said he would get to that later. However, we needed something immediately for her to calm her down. He said he couldn’t just give her anything without finding out more and this would take weeks because he was very busy. He could see us once a week and slowly diagnose the situation. We left very disappointed and never went back.
Jenny:
I was seeing visions, many of which I have forgotten. At this point in my life I suddenly became interested in drawing. I began to draw pictures of demons. Only I didn’t know that they were. I found that I could talk to the children’s toys. Then all at once I heard God say quite audibly that they were evil. I loaded up the car boot with everything and anything that was evil, as I saw it, including some of the children’s much loved toys and Luke’s favourite kitchen knives and tools. I took a drive and decided to take all the stuff to the dump. However, I got lost and couldn’t find it so I ended up stopping on the free way and throwing out everything in the bush.
Jesus appeared to me in a vision. He stood outside the house and looked at me sorrowfully. His image was like that of water quivering as he stood there, and I knew that the only way to be rid of this entire barrage of lies, pain and anguish of living with this intolerable manifestation would be to go and find Jesus. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that only He could give me the answers that I sought.
If you would like to read the rest of the story, order here: