CAPTAIN COPENHAGEN

Captain Copenhagen tells the story of Helen and her daughter Leonie. After Leonie is diagnosed with depression at 14 years old, Helen decides that they need to move to the country that has been attributed as one of the happiest countries in the world, Denmark. Her hope is that she can use the country, culture and everything Danish to “cure” her daughter and make her happy again. Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.

This blog is a work of fiction. It includes comedic episodes from Helen’s perspective as she tries to navigate Danish life, and more subdued episodes from Leonie’s perspective as she tries to navigate her mother.

All episodes can be found at www.captaincopenhagen.co.uk.

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TRIGGER WARNING: Captain Copenhagen explores the topic of mental health.

The Birthday Present

Helen, Mother

It was the most important day of the year. The day that I would not let pass without the biggest of all fusses being made.

It was my daughter’s birthday.

The official day of Leonie day.

And I was going to spoil her rotten.

Looking in my purse, I knew I would be limited. It contained all the money I had which wasn’t as much as I would have liked. We’d been living off my savings since we moved here but I could only stretch them so far and, my god, was I stretching them. My finances felt like a pair of size 8 super skinny jeans on my most definitely not size 8 super skinny-jean-wearing legs. 

But none of that was important to me right now. I wanted to make my daughter smile on her birthday.

I would get her the greatest gift.

It would be heartfelt. It would be expensive. And it would be Danish.

Now, about a week ago I had been engulfed in an all encompassing vision of hope. I believed that Leonie had experienced an awakening, that something had blossomed within her and she would soon start getting better. Remember? If not – about a week ago I believed that Leonie had experienced an awakening, that something had blossomed within her and she would soon start getting better.

But despite all that optimism, despite all that hope, she had just gotten worse.

And…

And I didn’t know why.

She had been in bed for five days, but today was her birthday and I wanted her to get up, to give life a go, and so I simply asked her…

‘Could you just try? For me?’

A slight guilt brewed in my belly, but I had to do something.

I was surprised to see her slowly rise up, obediently complying in true Star Trek Borg fashion. I knew that it was sad that she had trapped herself away and it would be nice if we could get out there and spend her birthday together, and in turn, spend lots of money. But even though she was out of bed, she looked as if she was still mentally in her duvet cocoon. Getting out of bed seemed like the most difficult thing she had ever had to do.

But…

She was up.

I was not going to waste this opportunity.

We embarked on a shopping trip into the city. The plan was simple. I would get her a necklace. A heartfelt, expensive, Danish necklace, so the Danish values of happiness would forever be close to her heart. Any low feelings that were growing within would be squashed and vanquished by the ever present Scandinavian spirit. 

That would be my gift to her on her birthday.

….

I was starting to get my bearings a bit more walking through the city. We turned down the Ho…yo…vede…rede…vag…te..de…se…ga…ba…ra…de which I pronounced flawlessly, and I knew exactly where I wanted to take her. I had found the perfect shop. Danish design, yes, quirky enough to fit her style, yes, expensive enough for it to be special, yes yes most definitely yes. I was so proud of myself. This felt right. This definitely felt right.

Just as we were about to walk past the shop, I grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face the door.

‘Surprise! Happy Birthday my darling daughter!’

Her expression didn’t change. I think if anything, it dropped. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach, spilling all my hope into a pile on the floor. I scooped it up and shoved it back in. Five second rule after all.

‘Today, you can pick out a little piece of Denmark. That way you will always hold a piece of Danish happiness close to your heart’. I repeated the goal. The mantra.

What did I have to do to make her smile?

I gave her my purse.

‘Use whatever you want in that purse.’

Still no change of expression. I willed her to say something. I just wanted some kind of reaction. Just some hint of happiness. Just…

She took the purse and started obediently walking into the shop.

‘You can wait out here’, was all she said.

Which slightly hurt. 

I found a nearby bench. And waited. And began to feel a little upset. Which surprised me.

I don’t get upset, I had inherited my robotic emotional control from my dad and it had served me well. My WD40 way of solving problems, way of living. But if I’m being honest with myself, all this stuff with Leonie, her depression… was getting to me.

I looked up and saw my reflection in a window. I had not succeeded in holding back tears. I quickly wiped them away just in time to see her leaving the shop. I wasn’t going to let her see me upset.

She was wearing something around her neck. She had found something that she liked, something that made her happy. I did take comfort in that. Maybe this was actually a win.

I allowed myself a small smile.

‘That was fast!’ I said.

She sat down beside me. I was curious to see what necklace she had chosen. However much it cost, I didn’t care. 

It took me a couple of seconds to fully realise what she was wearing. On her neck sat a 1 Danish Krone coin, worth 10 pence. Danish coins have a hole in the middle for reasons that I don’t understand, and they always make me hungry and remind me of ringed food: doughnuts, hula hoops, doughnuts, party rings, doughnuts. I really like doughnuts, I wanted doughnuts, but now was not the time.

She had threaded the coin with a long piece of cotton that had been dangling from the zip inside my purse that she continuously complained drove her mad. It seems she had taken great satisfaction in finally tearing it out and fashioned it into the world’s first one krone cotton threaded necklace.

She had clearly taken the ‘use whatever you want in that purse’ instruction a little too literally.

Had she not understood that I had wanted her to buy something? I started to rethink what I had said, I knew that I wasn’t the best at explaining what I wanted, hence the rogue tattoo on my right thigh that shall never be discussed.

She sat down beside me and handed my purse back. 

I opened it to see exactly the same amount of money that had been there before, minus only the 1 krone coin.

‘I thought… Danish happiness… close to your heart-’

‘You there is fine’, she responded, her quiet matter of fact tone unchanging. 

What? I didn’t understand but my chest ached.

I put my arm around her and pulled her close.

‘I’m tired’, she muttered.

I kissed the top of her head, baffled by everything, all the questions that I wanted to ask her spinning around my overwhelmed brain in a tornado of torment. Unable to articulate any of those thoughts, I simply asked her the only thing I could.

‘What would you like to do with the rest of your birthday?’

She didn’t look at me.

‘I…’

There was a long pause that I fought the urge to fill. I wanted to hear what she had to say.

She continued to look down at the ground.

‘I…just want… to be sad. I’m sorry…’

My chest ached even more.

I took her hand. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. The tears came to my eyes again, but I used every ounce of strength that I had to hold them back. Captain Copenhagen does not admit defeat. Captain Copenhagen does not cry. Captain Copenhagen regains all her robotic strength by talking in the third person.   

We sat there for a few minutes and then started to head home. We spent the rest of the day sitting quietly together. Her watching quiz shows, me watching her fight the urge to crawl back into bed. 

My daughter spent her 15th birthday being sad. The cost of the day totalling ten pence. And it broke my heart.