Mental health

Telepsychiatry – Skyping a Psychiatrist for Help

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“I lie in bed, motionless. Fixating on the wooden propeller of the ceiling fan turning in circles, I lie in bed, emotionless. I can hear the fishermen yelling at the top of their lungs, trying to sell their latest catch, and the relentless lapping of the waves against the shores of Lake Tanganyika. I haven’t been to the market in three months… or more. I can’t tell. The flies are now roaming freely around the house; I couldn’t care less. The place is filthy, but it’s the best my husband could do while his worthless wife was lying in bed. Another healer is at the door. Many have come and gone, trying to find the cure, to extract the demons that have sentenced me, my three beautiful children, and a devoted husband to a life fallen in depths of an unfeeling abyss. No need. I am not worth it. The razor by the mirror is calling my name: Aude. Aude. Aude…”

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