The Convict

The Foundation

In the five years Dakota has been in jail the past three have been the hardest for both of us. When I initially reached out to her, I kept good on my word. Visited often, wrote, called, and while Dakota was finally getting better. Finally, off suicide watch and out of solitary, I declined.

It's like when one of us is doing good, the other isn't. Visiting her so much was taking a toll on me. There I was on book tours and talk shows telling everyone how Dakota tried to kill me and how scared I was, then turning around to visit her in prison. My mind started to get confused again.

Which was true?

Was I her victim, a poor girl traumatized beyond repair by a horrible monster?

Or was I just a girl who fell in love with someone who made some bad choices in life, but wasn't a monster, at least not all the time?

Was it possible that both could be true at once?

It was that third year of her being in prison that everything came apart for me. I started seeing Antonia again on the book tour, at first I didn't tell anyone. But then I started having panic attacks again and freaking out. I told BB first, then everyone else after. I stopped visiting Dakota for a while, took more counseling, more medication, and spent more time with family and friends.

The visions would slow down, but I also have been diagnosed with PTSD. Sometimes something stressful will take me back to that year and I get confused again. Transported back in time to that traumatic time in my life.

Dakota got sad I stopped visiting her and tried to kill herself again. That was her fourth year in prison. I had to sit down and have a long talk with her, about my wellbeing, about her wellbeing, about the two of us needing to get better. After that, I resumed limited visits and limited calls and letters. That seemed to be a good balance for both of us.

While neither of us was 100% we were managing, and that was good enough. Or it was...

But my mind can't tell if it wants more Dakota or no Dakota. All these emotions and feelings are so confusing and overwhelming. This past year our letters have really increased and taken a turn into forbidden territory.

These backslides I have, have become too common. Lucky for me, I have a sturdy foundation to fall on.

The Foundation

Every time I have a backslide, I have to gather my family, and Lesly, and tell them. I do this for two reasons, the first is so they know and will keep from mentioning that year of my life or my book, which they hardly do anyway. No one wants to forget that awful year more than my family.

The second reason is to hold myself accountable. By telling them I can't pretend it's not happening, can't lie to myself. My therapist is the one who told me to start doing this, and it helps. Because then my family starts hounding me to go to therapy and take my medication and I start doing good again.

"Sorry to call you guys here on such short notice," BB says to everyone.

Today both my parents are present, and so is my brother, but not his wife, and of course Lesly is here too. We are all meeting at my grandmother's house, the one I am expected to buy. I sigh and sit down on the coffee table, running my hands down my face.

"Melony, what's wrong baby," Mom says in a worried tone.

Instantly I want to cry. I sob silently into my hands and shake my head. I always feel so ashamed when I have to say this.

BB sits next to me and rubs my back.

I hear Lesly sigh sadly.

"Mel?" my brother Marcus says.