He considers this. "The mind is deeply complex. Sometimes, what can be seen as simply depression or anxiety has far-reaching consequences. Sometimes, it's so much deeper. Sometimes, it's the inability to shut your mind off from playing and replaying the things that once hurt you, or the inability to shake off intrusive negative and harmful thoughts that consume you. Maybe it's continually telling yourself that you're not good enough, that you're an awful person."
I hate to admit it, but it sounds a lot like me. I just hate putting a title to what I've been feeling my whole life. He can diagnose all he wants, but until he's lived it, would he truly understand what I am living with? What plagues me every single day?
"My son has ADHD and OCD. He's had it for most of his life, and at first, it angered me that I'd studied long and hard about the mind and nothing I ever did could help him."
“I read some of the material you sent me.” Hearing him speak of his son makes me see this situation differently.
“It took several years to get my boy to a place where he could accept and live with his illness; and it is an illness, like any other which can be treated.”
“What happened with him?”
“He’s just graduated law school,” he says with pride. “I’ve considered all you’ve said to me, and I haveto believe you have one or both those conditions.” He looks at me intently, wanting to gauge my reaction. I have none.
I shake my head. “So, what do I do?”
“You’ve already started doing something by coming to see me again, and by acknowledging there is something to be done,” he reassures me. I wish I was as optimistic as he is.
"For one, I'd like to start you on a shallow dose of medication. A nonstimulant, so apart from the normal side effects of starting a new medication, you shouldn't have anything to worry about."
“Medication? I don’t need pills. Isn’t there any other way?”
"We can try some cognitive behavior therapy, cognitive breathing, and see how that goes. I know these are new terms but I’ll be working with you throught this. I'll need to see you more regularly, work through certain techniques that might be useful to you. But the medication is a must. Just give it a try, and if it really does bother you, we can look at it again."
I run my fingers through my hair, a nervous habit that helps calm my nerves.
“And we’re going to need a list of areas you need to work on. We’ll prioritize them and work on them individually,” he continues.
“This sounds like a hell of a lot of work.” I shake my head, sitting forward in my seat.
“I’m not going to lie to you. It is hard work, but most things in life are. This isn’t something you can cure. Nine times out of ten, you’re going to need ongoing treatment. But if you’re committed, I have no doubt we can manage this.”
We chat more about the condition, and I become more convinced that he's right, that I have OCD, a chemical imbalance in my brain, and ADHD too. It frustrates me. It sounds farfetched, an excuse for my slacking, an excuse for the fact that I'm not successful. I bet that's what my asshole father would say.
I climbinto my car and sit staring at the building in front of me. After a while, I lay my head against the headrest. I'm such an idiot. What makes me think I can have a normal life? Kenzie doesn't need this kind of complication in her life. I have to sort this shit out on my own and not drag anyone into my chaos. The way I did Jax. Dr. Willis shared some options. I’m not sure I’m ready for any of them. But I feel on edge. I want to rid myself of this gnawing feeling of inadequacy.
I pull out my phone, and there are ten missed calls from Jax. My brother will likely be in my apartment when I get home. We've not talked since the day I left his house, and he has tried to contact me every single day. He's been at my apartment too, and I haven't let him in. He'll find a way to contact me soon.
I should go speak to Kenzie. Hopefully, Jax will leave after realizing I am not coming home. I'm in no mood to talk about what happened. The way I see it, he wants to make amends with the old man, and I don't think I can ever forgive that. I will always love my brother, but that doesn't mean I will allow myself to be anywhere near that bastard father of ours. Not even for Jax.
The rain peltsagainst my window, and I snuggle deeper into the blankets. I can hear the shouting downstairs. Jax hasn’t stirred, not even when the door slams. I wonder if the sound of the rain blurs out the madness below us. My mother’s voice cannot be heard. She never speaks, she never retaliates, no matter what he says or does. She just sits there or cowers beneath him. She never sobs either. I wonder whether she is still there, behind those blank eyes.
Our father is nothing but a lying, cheating scumbag.
The shouting stops, and I hear the sound of his heavy footsteps as he takes the stairs and drags himself into the bathroom, which is located just opposite our room. I hear a thud, and the door closes. I cover my head with a blanket and find myself drifting off.
The next time I open my eyes, it’s to the shrill of my brother's screams. I jump out of bed and dash out the open door. Jax continues to scream, and I take the stairs two at a time, following the sound of his scared voice downstairs.
And that is when I see her feet dangling. I look up, and she is suspended from the ceiling, a rope around her slender neck. Her pale skin now a bluish purple, her hair hanging in clumps, dried blood on her cheeks from where he must have slapped her. She has on a thin nightdress and the scars on her hands are visible.
"Mama," I howl as I run forward and reach out for her legs, but not before Jax grips me by the shoulders, pulling me back.
"No, Kace, not like that," he weeps in my ear, and I struggle to get free.
“What’s the commotion about?” I hear my father descend the stairs, and I spin my head around to find him staring at the scene in front of him.
“A pity. I expected her to get it over with a long time ago.” He shakes his head.
"You bastard!" I yell and lunge at him, hitting him square in the jaw. I pound his face until Jax pulls me away and drags me upstairs. "He is not worth it, Kace."
