✅ A Dose of Humiliation

80. Turning a Corner

Somehow, I went back to school. It was hard, not knowing what my friends would think of me. It was hard knowing that I needed diapers as well; but somehow a pack just showed up at the hotel room. I tried not to think about it. I knew that Serena was the one supporting me, but I could hope that Clint was telling her the bare minimum to make sure that I was safe. I'd felt so disgusted with myself that I didn't want to see any of my friends again, but I knew after a while that they were still supporting me.

At times, I hated the people who were clinging to me. I felt like they were trying to force me to be the person I'd been before, and not caring about how much I had grown. Like they didn't really care about me; they just liked this weird mask that I had always put on, pretending to be the perfect friend who would do whatever they needed. But when Clint was there, I couldn't lash out at him. I don't know why, I just wanted him too much, I guessed. Or maybe there was more than just lust there. I wanted to tell myself that there was no way I was capable of starting a normal relationship now, because the drugs were trying to turn me into the opposite of myself. But then I thought about all the things I hadn't done when I was theoretically in control. Having a boyfriend was one of them; because my parents had brought me up to believe that I wasn't ready, and that I shouldn't consider dating until they told me I was old enough. I was Daddy's little princess, still a child even if I was an adult in the eyes of the law. That made me angry when I thought about it. But seen from a different angle, it might also mean that the drugs had just knocked down the barriers against doing what they said I shouldn't.

Maybe I wasn't turning into a really terrible person. I was just breaking all the rules I had so easily accepted from my parents. Which was a bad thing when those rules were there to keep me happy, but could actually be a positive when those rules were just Dad's efforts to control me like his own parents had said a man should. Right now, I had no idea how I could tell which rules were the ones I was supposed to break, but Clint had promised that he would help me to work it out. And things that made my friends happy seemed to be a good point to focus on.

I still felt weird being around other people. They wanted me to be who I'd been before, and they were just hoping that when I could get this antidote, I would go back to being such a good girl. I didn't know how I felt about that. Because there were things from the last few months that I really liked, and some of the changes felt like positives. I couldn't tell whether they were really good for me or not, but they felt okay to me. And then there were the bad things. Addiction surely wasn't something I should be celebrating, but I didn't know if that would go away so easily. I couldn't get through the day without a drink now, and I didn't believe that I would just be able to stop. My friends acted like I could; like that was some kind of overlay that the Punishment Pill had slapped on me. They had forgiven my drunkenness, and showing up to school or to social events drunk or hungover, because they were sure it wasn't really me. Would they still be supportive when I got my own mind back and couldn't stop myself continuing the same habits? That was the whole point of the drugs, after all: The changes they made were supposed to be permanent.

So I was scared to even see my friends. I certainly didn't want to go back to my family. I deserved to be alone, because I knew they would only abandon me when they realised this wasn't something I could just put behind me. But I couldn't let go of Clint. Even when I knew that sooner or later he would realise I wasn't worth his time, I couldn't ask him to leave. I tried, but I couldn't stand the thought that he wouldn't be there. A voice inside me kept on telling me that I was setting myself up for more pain sooner or later, but when I tried to push him away I just couldn't do it. And perhaps this was one new impulse that would actually prove good for me in the long run.

He stayed with me. I didn't know how his family felt about that, but I was glad for his presence. He seemed to bring out a different side of my craziness, one that wasn't quite so self-destructive. He would take all the verbal abuse I could throw at him until I broke down and sobbed on his shoulder. And that was how he had convinced me to go back to school.