Surviving

eighteen

I've been in withdrawals from cocaine for about a week now, and in that time I've maybe slept a total of eleven or twelve hours. It's killing me not being able to get a fix, which is ironic considering the fact that the cocaine is what would effectively kill me if I kept going. It's just hard, really hard.

Big Ash never got a funeral, not that I'm surprised. The Scorpions would have taken his body back to their space as proof. I don't even like thinking about what happened after we left, it hurts too much. That part of my life is over now, and I'm not sure what to do. It was all I'd ever known, and now it's gone. It's just gone.

We've been staying at Dianna's house since the night of the incident. Wilmer's also been here with me the entire time. I don't really know if I could do this without him. He's the one who holds me while my body shakes from the lack of poison entering my system. He's the one who calms me down when the paranoia sets in. He's the one who will kiss me so I stop rambling about how much I need a fix. He's my new fix, in some way.

I'm trying really hard to get better, not just for myself but for Nova. She's the most important person in my life and I made a promise to her that I'd fight. For a twelve year old girl, she's seen and gone through so much in her life, and I don't want her to God forbid find me in a bath of my own blood one day, or out cold from an overdose. I need to change. I need to get through this.

The withdrawals are the worst though. My mood is constantly changing, and it's never to a happy place. I feel low, or I feel lower than low. Sometimes my mood can change so quickly that the only thing I know to do to try and handle it is pull at my hair or hurt myself. It's an automatic response. The sadness changes to anger in a split second and all of a sudden by brain will remind me of every single shitty thing that's happened in my life and I want nothing more than to disappear. The nausea is just as bad. I've lost a lot of weight in the week of being in withdrawals due to the fact that I can't bare the thought of eating any food, and when I do it can't stay down. I've abused my body so much that it's lashing out now that I'm finally trying to take care of myself.

Dianna and Wilmer both tell me that I clearly have a severe case of depression. Dianna, well, I guess I should call her mom now, she told me that when she was younger she suffered from depression and an eating disorder and that it's nothing to be ashamed of. I don't feel like I have an eating disorder though. Yes I skip meals and yes I'm aware of how much fat is in my food, and yes I sometimes purge, but that doesn't mean I have an eating disorder. Does it? I always thought it stemmed from my drug use - the lack of food intake - and maybe it did, but I'm still continuum in those behaviours. Am I sick? Maybe I am.

Mom also reminded me about my birth father's mental state and she told me that an appointment has been booked for me at their family doctor to see if I may have what he had. I guess when I told her about the paranoia and hallucinations I'd been having, the alarm bells went off in her head and she got the appointment.

I've to get out into the fresh air every day - mom's orders - and it's kind of developed into me becoming the audience for Maddie and Nova while they work on their aerial. Maddie's been teaching Nova all the beginner steps since we got here and she's a little pro at it now.

"Be careful baby, don't fall!" I yell as Nova attempts some sort of leg arch while balancing on the hoop attached to the apparatus.

"Don't worry Demi, I've got her" Maddie giggles in response while holding onto Nova's body from below.

I smile back at Maddie, our eyes locking for a couple seconds before she focuses her attention back on Nova. I take the time to really look at Maddie, my little sister. I can't help but think about how much I missed out on. I never got to see her after she was born, never got to teach her right from wrong - but then again, I still don't seem to know that - and I never got to watch her grow up. It sucks, and it makes me mad that I was deprived of that. I know there's no use holding onto all my anger about being taken away from my family, and I have to keep telling myself that if this hadn't have happened, I would have never met Nova. I don't even want to think about what might have happened to her or what she'd be doing right now if things were different.

"Hey, what's wrong sweetie?"

I look up to the source of the voice, and see mom staring at me with a sad smile and a glass of fresh orange juice in her hand. I simply shake my head in response, not even noticing the tears that have been falling down my face until she wipes them away for me.

"Here, take small sips of this. It'll help, promise" mom whispers in my ear before wrapping an arm around my body, pulling me closer to her.

"Thank you" I reply, my voice hoarse.

I continue to watch Maddie and Nova while taking sips of my juice, trying to calm myself down as well as my mind, but it won't stop. I'm mad at mo- Helena. I know she wasn't well and that she lost her own baby, but that gave her no right to steal me away from my pfamily. I could have had a better life, I could have known what it's like to be loved properly, not by some sick guy with a fascination in younger girls. I could have been shielded from so much pain. She stole me. She stole my life.

"Hey, Demi breathe for me" mom says, and only they do I notice how tight my hand grasps my cup, and the tension in my chest. "I know that you're angry, and I know you're feeling all of these emotions, but baby girl you gotta let it out. You can't keep bottling it all up inside of you.."

I look up at mom with a confused expression on my face. "How do you know that's what I'm feeling?" I ask quietly, almost embarrassed that I can be read so easily.

"Oh sweetie, a momma always knows. Even when you were gone for all those years, my heart was hurting and I just knew that something wasn't right; that you weren't okay. It killed me to know and not be able to actually do anything. I know that you're mad at her, and I know you're also mad at yourself for being this way, but baby girl this isn't your fault. You were trying to cope. I don't blame you. My eating disorder was my way of coping, and this was yours. But please, no more hurting yourself. Don't hurt my baby anymore, she's been through enough. You've been through enough.."

Turning my body into my mom's, I cry on her shoulder. I cry for the little girl who was raped. I cry for the girl who was forced to sell her body in order to live. I cry for Amber. I cry for Big Ash and Nova. I cry for every single person who's experienced the trauma I have. I cry for me.

"There there, that's you. Let it out" mom whispers in my ear as she slowly sways us in a calming movement.

I cry until I can't cry anymore. I can feel my body growing weaker and weaker. The last thing I remember is my cup being removed from my hand, and a kiss placed on my forehead before I fall into my first deep sleep in days.

Or so I thought.