Dying to know

Porcelain doll

"Excuse me?" Frank asked, clearly surprised. His posture shifted more towards me, indicating I had his full attention once more.

"Marcus asked me out. Kinda. It was weird," I pondered, replaying the moment in my mind. If the dude would just quit his job, he could have the relationship he'd always wanted.

Let's be honest, if he found a girl who was totally okay with it, she might be a little too openminded. Did he really want a girl like that? Oh, you kill people for a living? That's hot.

I told Frank the entire story about what happened. Surprisingly, he didn't write that much, he just listened, nodded and asked questions when things weren't clear or when my attention suddenly focused on something else.

Somehow, this journey towards killing myself lead me to two cute but totally unavailable men. Maybe starting a dating business would be the way to go. It would be unconventional but hey, whatever works, right?

I decided not to pitch that idea to Frank.

"You know, Frank, we can go on and on about ways I've tried to kill myself but to be honest ,it's not really leading us anywhere. You know my routine," I uttered.

"So, I'll make a deal. I have two more stories for ya. One where it almost worked and one that failed miserably," I continued.

"You're suggesting we get through these stories and then we move on to a new phase?" Frank shot back.

"Yes! I've tried many things, you get that now. I think the last two stories could be of importance but the rest isn't anything new," I said while Frank nodded.

"I wanted to suggest to wrap it up after this session so we can start the actual treatment. We can talk about those two attempts today and next time. In six weeks, we'll start with a treatment plan," Frank said. I was glad we were on the same page.

"Right, so this is one I'm not too proud of. It was a bad decision but to be honest, it was at a time where I was getting desperate. I actually put a lot of people in danger," I confessed.

This happened early on. I wasn't researching like a maniac before and I didn't know what I know now. I could've told Frank this story way earlier on but I felt ashamed to do so. This wasn't me and I didn't want that to be his image of me.

Frank knows me a little better now and he knows how I usually do this so he'll recognise the desperation.

"I had a busy day at work. I usually feel energised when I get home because sometimes pitching ideas to clients is the ultimate adrenalin rush and I love it. That day, I hated work. The clients were rude, uninterested and demeaning," I sighed.

Those arrogant bastards really fucked up all of our moods that day. They were full of negativity on a project where we worked on so hard. My bossfriend Jada had to leave early that day so I couldn't rant that much. I ranted to my colleagues but they were frustrated too. I needed a peptalk that nobody could provide.

"If I remember correctly, I was also PMSing like a motherfucker. I had this 'I-hate-the-world-and-everyone-in-it' moment," I said without any shame.

"You men are so lucky you don't get your periods! It's not fair. Every month we get superhormonal which kinda fucks up all of your plans. You just have to sit at home and munch chocolate while crying because you saw a video of a cat. It's horrible. The only thing men have to deal with is us while we're in that state but trust me, it's worse for us," I ranted.

"Although, my ex usually had a few days each month where he was in a bad mood. Maybe men do have some kind of PMS but whatever, no sympathy for them. At least they don't bleed an entire week out of their crotch-"

"Mila..."

"Yes, I know, that's not what we're talking about. And I know what you're thinking," I sighed, "Oh, she's stalling because this attempt is hard to talk about blah blah."

Frank sat in front of me, being silent. His look was serious but there seemed to be an amused glint in his eyes. That sneaky bastard! It made me wanna laugh all of a sudden. Oh God, was I PMSing right now?

Sometimes I just blame everything on that. Oh, you have some kind of emotion? Must be PMS.

Inhaling deeply, I mentally prepared myself to go back to that moment.

"Okay," I said calmly and a little softer than usual.

"A bad day and PMS. Not the greatest combo in history and it makes for bad decisions. Another hateful thing that happened was I couldn't find any parking near my building, so I had to walk a block before I actually got there. Luckily it wasn't raining because I would've totally lost my shit," I explained.

"I had to cross a hectic road because I live in the middle of the city. Traffic can get crazy during rush hour and that day it wasn't any different. So I had this intrusive thought," I told Frank. As usual, he was writing the important parts down.

"What if I just... crossed the road? Just like that. I'd cross the road without looking. People can't drive during rush hour. They're too occupied by getting home to actually pay much attention to the road. Their patience is as good as gone. So would they even see me on time? If I'd just walk down the road?" I explained.

I realised this was stupid. The most stupid thing I've ever done in my life.

"So I did it. I crossed the street with a steady but slightly slower pace than usual. I looked straight ahead, probably because I was too scared to look at the fast approaching cars," I said monotonously. I was back there. I still think about that moment sometimes. It was really fucked up.

"I heard some honks and people yelling, as they should. I probably would've done the same. And for some twisted reason, I managed to cross the road without any harm being done. The only good thing about that attempt was that I didn't feel angry anymore because I had a bad day," I snorted.

Afterwards came the realisation that I could've hurt so many other people. I'd been selfish and impulsive.

"I'm not proud. I could've caused a serious accident with a lot more people hurt than just me," I concluded.

"And after that attempt you developed a routine that's the opposite of what happened that day?" Frank asked.

"Yes. There had to be a safer way to commit suicide," I uttered, realising how odd that sounded.

We talked a little more about the incident but my mood had been affected by the story. I didn't want to talk about it anymore but it was necessary. Frank needed to know more and I decided to cooperate.

Later, I went home, feeling a little down. I needed some Jada time and texted her that I wanted to go out for drinks.

I really wanted to because my sister had already asked me earlier that day if she could come over. I definitely needed to make plans because I did not feel in the mood for the pity party my sister always brought.

Sometimes, you don't wanna talk about serious stuff and need to blow of some steam. Jada was the perfect person for that. My sister was the opposite. She approached me like I was a fragile porcelain doll.

Well, this porcelain doll needed a drink.

"Heeey, sorry can't! No babysit, the hubby isn't home tonight :( some other time!"

Shit.