Part 40 (2/2)
I began to understand that Daniel had been right. At the time when he'd told me that saying, this too shall pa.s.s, I hadn't really grasped those powerful words well enough to take it deep into my heart and make it register in my mind. I'd survived, and so had my family. That terrible time had pa.s.sed, and here we were, normal again. A month later, and time at Bent Creek had done its job. It seemed as though we were beginning to heal.
PART 3.
Eternal Resting Place.
By Kristen Elliott.
It is believed that when you die You go to h.e.l.l.
When in h.e.l.l.
You are made to suffer through your sins Repeating, systematically.
h.e.l.l is a common grave A place of resting.
I will rest In h.e.l.l.
It is believed that when you die you go to h.e.l.l.
When in h.e.l.l You are made to suffer through your sins.
Repet.i.tive Suffering.
h.e.l.l is a common grave A place of resting.
I will rest.
CHAPTER 51.
I didn't want to show any sign of emotion when I returned to the unit. When my family therapy session was over, my group was just getting out of Drug and Alcohol Group Therapy with Dr. Finch and Ms. Mosley. I tried not to let any expression show on my face as everyone scattered and went on to do his or her own thing, as everyone did on Sat.u.r.days. I headed straight for the bedroom.
When I was in the room, I fell onto the bed and grabbed Janine's blanket. I curled up with it under my cheek and I tried to take deep breaths and stay calm. The door opened to the bedroom from the hallway and Mena walked in. She started towards her bed, but stopped when she saw me. She smirked.
”How did it go?” she asked.
I lay my head on top of Janine's blanket and shrugged.
”I had my first visit today. Not on Level One anymore,” Mena filled me in.
I didn't really feel like talking. It wasn't Mena. I just needed some time to take in everything that had happened during the family therapy session. There was a lot to think about and a lot to accept for my family and me.
During the family session, there had been a lot of apologies. Promises had been made that had to be kept, and there'd been confessions and secrets told that had been kept inside for too long. Tears had been shed and poured out from deep down inside of us until we'd run dry. I was exhausted.
Mena didn't realize this, nor did I dare open my mouth to tell her. She sat down on her bed and faced me.
She said, ”My foster mom came to visit. She brought me some clothes. I had asked her to bring me a blanket because it gets too cold in here at night. It is summer time, but it feels like winter in here at night. Of course she didn't bring me one.”
Mena continued to talk about her visit with her foster mom. I wasn't really listening to her. I hugged Janine's blanket tighter and thought back to the time after the smiles and laughter had disappeared, when it had been time to talk and be serious.
Dr. Pelchat had begun to talk about the issue of my diagnosis and what it meant. He'd talked about weekly therapy sessions with me, and had suggested that we have an occasional family session. He was particularly interested in Nicholas, and how he was affected by what I had done, because he was the one who'd found me. Nick had a therapist that he saw regularly, up until about a year ago, when his years of intense therapy had been lifted. It wasn't so intense anymore. He didn't have to go once a week anymore. They had reduced it to once a month. Then he was down to just once every three months.
Dr. Pelchat had been pleased to hear that Nick was healing from what Jack had done to him. It was tough. Dr. Pelchat had empathized, to have it happen to him by his own father. Alison had shed a tear or two, but I could tell that she didn't really understand. All she knew was that her brother and big sister had been hurt, and her whole life was affected by it. She'd opened up to Dr. Pelchat by saying that she missed Jack. She hadn't seen him in the years since he'd been put away, and she had hoped that she would get to see him again soon. Mom had stopped her from saying too much with a hard squeeze that I'd noticed, and Dr. Pelchat hadn't. Mom was probably afraid Alison would've said something about Jack's parole hearing. Then we would have gotten into the deeper issue. She wasn't ready for that yet.
Dr. Pelchat had asked Mom if she had any regrets. Mom had said that her regret wasn't marrying Jack, nor was it moving from California, or having the twins or me. She'd said that her regret was not listening to me when I was trying to tell her, and not seeing that it wasn't just Nick who needed help, but that it was all of us, especially me.
”I didn't know that she was in so much pain,” Mom had said. ”And I didn't know that she was so depressed that she'd want to do something so harmful to herself.” Mom had gone on about how much she loved me. She'd said that if I ever felt depressed like that again, she wanted me to go to her. She wanted me to talk to her instead of cutting.
That's when Dr. Pelchat had asked me if that was something that I could do. He'd put me on the spot, wanting me to answer that kind of question right away.
Could I really try to go to Mom to talk to her when I felt depressed? Would she be able to handle it without getting angry with me for being this way?
I'd told Dr. Pelchat that I would try.
Then he'd made me promise. I'd had to look my mother in the eyes and promise her that I would talk to her when I got depressed and if I felt suicidal again. When I'd promised this, I'd wanted to see how she'd react. She'd kept a straight face as she'd nodded and smiled with no tears in her eyes, and millions of them had fallen out of mine.
I'd wanted to believe that I could go to her if I needed to. I'd wanted to talk about Jack and his parole hearing, but there had not been enough time. We didn't get to talk about what had really made me do what I'd done. We hadn't talked about what I'd seen that had drawn me to the pills in the first place.
Dr. Pelchat knew that I was depressed, and so did Mom, Alison, and Nick. I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. My treatment and moving forward towards the future was what was supposed to be most important.
Dr. Pelchat had said, ”We can't just get everything out and fix it in one session. It's going to take some time, just like it did with Nick.”
Dr. Pelchat had asked me a question when we were near the end of the session. Tears had dried up. Smiles had been back on our faces. Alison and Nick had been laughing again, and Mom had looked relieved. She'd seemed relieved to see that I was doing better, and she had probably been even more relieved when Dr. Pelchat had said that our session time was up.
Before we'd gotten up to leave he'd said, ”I have just one more question that I want to ask Kristen while all of you are here.”
”Yes, Dr. Pelchat?” I had asked.
Dr. Pelchat had asked, ”Do you think that you are ready to go home?”
I rolled over and lay on my side on the bed to face away from Mena. I had Janine's blanket wrapped around me, and I pulled my pillow close. With tears dripping from my eyes, I placed my head down on the pillow gently so that my head wouldn't hurt worse than it already did.
Mena heard me crying. She said, ”What's wrong?”
I looked up and saw Mr. Sharp. He was sitting on the edge of the night table, next to the lamp, sparkling in the beautiful b.u.t.terfly wings. My vision blurred because of the tears. I felt almost helpless. I was never going to be better if I couldn't get everything out that was killing me inside. Mr. Sharp stuck out of the b.u.t.terfly pendant towards me. I didn't want to get it out like that anymore.
”Go away,” I told him.
”Fine,” Mena said. ”It's almost dinnertime.” Mena got up off my bed and stormed away, leaving me in the room by myself.
I didn't bother to tell her that I wasn't talking to her. It wouldn't have made sense to her without me having to explain it all. I didn't have the strength.
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