Reincarnation. Book 1.

Part 8. Relaps.

Take my hand, I have so much to show you... You want to know what goes on inside my mind? The cruel and crippling thoughts, the things that make me not want to get out of bed. Before we get to my mind you need to see my soul... It's like a beautiful rose surrounded by thorns... Keep me in... and keep you out. So I'll let you roam around the entrance, but that's as far as I'll let you get. I'll let you in when I am ready. You see, my soul is a fucking mess! Letting you in too soon will be a hazard to my health. Not now. Not when... I'm so messed up... So fucking fragile.

For years, I hated absolutely everything about myself because I didn't deserve to live, I didn't understand why I survived and they didn't. Years went by and I still couldn't forgive myself for it. I cried myself to sleep every night. At one moment I was thinking, it was around three in the morning and I thought, would she blame me for it? Did Maxim want me to hate myself? Kenneth would have slapped me in the head for thinking like this. The answer is No because they loved me. They saved me and saw me on my worst when I was only 12 and had an overdose. She was there, when my whole family disowned me, they helped me to survive. They believed in me.

Ever since that night, I tried to end the pain and gradually got better. It didn't happen in a snap or a flicker in a light, it happened over a long time. The thing is when I tell people about this story, they ask who made me realize that it wasn't my fault. "Who inspired to get better? Did you do it for your mom?" I never told anyone about how I was feeling back then. No one knew. No one inspired me to get better. Nothing at all. I did. I inspired myself to get better. Looking back, telling someone would have been the right thing to do. I needed help. I was lucky I got out by myself.

My driving instructor pushed me even harder after he heard my story and that was the best response I could have hoped for. He didn't look at me differently, didn't give any breaks and finally, I was driving around in the city. I was super proud of myself. I'd accomplished more than I could ever hope for. A challenge was brought to me one day, we were driving around the town when a car came from the right side, speeding and thanks to my quick reaction, I manoeuvred quickly out of the way and prevented an accident. My teacher was super shocked and proud, I stayed calm.
"You're ready." And I went for the exams.

Anders and I were good again, for a while. The companies 5-year anniversary was coming up. So he decided to take me with them, to celebrate. We drove around the city, talked and goofed around. Anders, Michael, me, one friend and the driver. Ironic was that Anders didn't remember any our anniversary, not to mention my birthday but everything that involved the company or Michael, he remembered in his sleep. The night was fun though, basically, we talked about cars but I wasn't against. They are the reason I had so much knowledge to go to school and learn this speciality. Time was getting really late, almost 5 in the morning and it was time to go home. It was workday but he didn't care. Anders didn't want to come. They took me home and drove away. I was in no condition to go to school. And work was off.

Around 9 o'clock in the morning, Michael called me and told me that Anders is wasted and they are at the company. He is making a scene, that I should come and get him. Great. I called Anders, tried to reason with him. At first, it was smooth talk, but then someone said something to him in the back that changed his tone.

"Yeah, you know what? If I was sober, I would have dumped you long ago!" After that, I heard a laugh in the background, a woman's laugh. I ended the call.
When he finally arrived home, he didn't remember anything about that morning. So he acted like everything was normal and when I tried to talk to him, he told me to shove it, that I'm lying, he wouldn't say something like that. Something inside of me clicked - what am I even still holding onto? A body to sleep next to at night? Have I become that insecure about myself, and that desperate for even the smallest amounts of affection, that I've deemed myself only worthy of a fake love and a life of daily disrespect? Am I that afraid of sleeping alone, that I'd rather sleep beside someone who constantly hurts me?