It was perceived abandonment fears that clued me in, and so I asked Rachael if she thought that I was intending on leaving her the day she drove to the bridge, and as I did the
air in the room was suddenly so thick you could cut it and so overwhelming that there was no mistaking what it was, the air was thick with shame. As tears gushed down my darling girl’s forlorn face I knew it was Rachael's shame that I was feeling, that
evoked emotions of such profound sadness and pity as I have ever felt for another human being.
“You are ashamed of yourself aren't you Rach, why sweetheart?”
"When you get to know me you will see how awful I am and leave.”
My poor sweet beautiful darling girl, how she could believe she was worthless was just tragic,
and so I cuddled my best friend and told her how in awe I was of her, how she had changed my life, how grateful I was to have met her and that she was the best friend anyone could wish for and the day I leave her would be the day I die. And that was the simple
We spoke for hours that night and Rachael opened up and shared things about herself she had never shared with anyone. For the first time, she had someone she knew she could trust with her most intimate
thoughts, feelings and fears, who did not judge her but instead empathised with her, a friend on whom she could rely.
"Having stumbled upon BPD should have been the cause
for optimism especially as it was considered treatable. However, the experiences we had had with practitioners up to date warned that progress would be unnecessarily difficult and there was more stress and heartache to come."
A Rose at the Wall
Rachael spent a week in Broadmeadows during which time she wrote all the poetry that appears here. She was interviewed seventeen times by doctors and psych nurses
and no one picked up her BPD, the most well researched and understood of the personality disorders and the symptoms of which she wrote about whilst she was there in the hospital.
A Rose at the Wall is about that day on the bridge and the woman who gently coaxed her down "with dulcet even tones, feathery soft like rose petals, no thorns, just the delicate scent of understanding." She was Rachael's Rose on the wall.