Away We Go • 2 • Formula One

Chapter 49

i feel like i need to start off all my chapters with an apology bc i am so inconsistent... so, sorry!

as always, please please please leave your comments throughout and don't forget to vote. also, if you could read the a/n at the end of the chapter and give me your thought that would be very appreciated, too! the important bit is in bold.

(vote and comment xoxo)

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My plans to fly to my home in Switzerland at the first possible opportunity were thwarted by a phone call. Just as I was packing my bags from Max's Monaco apartment Monday morning in preparation for my afternoon flight, none other than my therapist, who I had yet to meet, decided to give me a call so that we could arrange our first meeting. I would've postponed the meeting if I could, however Max had been standing close by and heard the conversation. He refused to give me my phone charger until I arranged a date for this week. I knew better than to argue with him, so the date was finally agreed for early Wednesday morning.

I learned three things from my phone call with my therapist: her name was Doctor Lauren Davis; she was very eager for us to commence our sessions; she only had mornings available at the moment. Everyone in my life knows that I am far from being a morning person. It's still debated whether or not there's a time of day I actually enjoy.  I was very skeptical at my ability to open up if I'm going to be grouchy at waking up at six o'clock on a day where I usually wouldn't rise until nine.

I found myself coming up with excuses even before I stepped foot on the flight home Tuesday afternoon. The one I kept coming back to was, 'Sorry, I overslept', however my chances of getting past Max were almost zero. Although I knew deep down (probably not even that deep down) that I needed these sessions, the thought about opening up about everything with a stranger was daunting. All it takes is a slip of the tongue to a colleague and my secrets are spilled. Being in the position I'm in is tough enough without the added pressure of the public judging the fact that I'm in therapy. People like to put drivers on a pedestal away from everyone else. When we're vulnerable in any way, it contradicts what they expect from us, therefore deeming us unworthy of the very same pedestal they put us on, as if we asked to be on there in the first place.

My mental health wasn't in a good shape. Only a fool would argue that fact; I am no fool. I didn't want help, but I needed it. Gosh, I needed it. Even if I was coping with everything that had happened to me, which I wasn't, it'd be in my best interest to attend therapy sessions - for my sake, for Max's sake, and for my own future's sake.

Max had been reluctant to talk about his own problems, however I knew better than to force it out of him. He had been raised in a way that made him ashamed of showing any sort of weakness or vulnerability, although I could argue to the ends of the Earth that struggling with your mental health shouldn't be labelled a weakness. I don't think I could ever forgive Jos for that. I'll love Max, regardless, and be by his side to help him through this dark spell.

My alarm sounded at six o'clock on the dot early Wednesday morning. My entire body ached with fatigue, my sleep being plagued yet again by nightmares. I was grateful to have Max by my side. He didn't ask questions when I would wake him up needing comfort, however he always looked concerned and reassured me that I could talk to him when I'm ready. This was a completely different Max to a year ago. I was more than relieved that we reconciled, our relationship now infinitely healthier and stronger than our previous one.

Max was kind enough to drive me to the therapist's office for eight o'clock. It was a pleasant coincidence that it was only twenty minutes from his house, however I wasn't overly fond of how quickly I had to start facing my problems. I made sure to wear clothes that wouldn't draw too much attention to myself - black jeans, a grey cardigan, minimal makeup, and sunglasses. Whilst I'm sure one day I'll feel comfortable enough to be open about all go this, I didn't want any rumours to start spiralling until I could tell the truth. Sponsors will be the only thing keeping my seat at Mercedes when Toto inevitably loses faith in me; I couldn't afford to lose them, too, with an over-the-top scandal of any kind.