“Please speak to me any way you want. Whatever you want to say, I'll listen. And I'll always walk with you, Sadie.”
“Okay. Thanks. I have to go. See you tomorrow,” I gasped hanging up the phone.
And suddenly, I started crying again.
Actually, I sobbed. I felt good and bad, miserable and happy. I felt torn. I felt even more unsure of myself than I ever had before. I felt conflicted and sad. I didn't know if I was making a mistake trying to rejoin the world, or if this kind of sobbing reaction was normal for someone trying to live.
I felt everything in the span of that evening, and when I finally stopped shaking and crying, I fell asleep heavily on my couch.
Afterward, I remember being stunned that I had slept through the night without my nightly ritual, which I had never missed except for the times I was in the hospital. I was stunned that I had a day old uncleansed body, and that I wasn't as freaked out by my dirty feeling body as I thought I would be. I was stunned that I was awake, alone and functioning at 7:25 in the morning.
But I did think of my stranger. I would be lying to myself if I said I didn't wonder if He had come to me in the night to watch me. I would be lying if I said I didn't want to see Him still. I would be lying if I said I didn't still love Him, because I did.
Getting up eventually, I made coffee, hopped in the shower, and applied makeup to my hollow looking face. Afterward, I dressed as best as I could with my ugly, loose-fitting clothing while I made another huge decision.
Reaching for my living room phone, I made another huge step when I made a call to Dr. Synode. Leaving him a desperate sounding message, I asked to see him again. And after I hung up, I was pretty proud of myself again because I knew I had made a few huge steps in the course of 2 days. I was trying, and I was surprised by how easy these steps actually felt to me after I committed to them.
I was still freaked out, and neurotic as hell. Insecure and totally paranoid of my safety. I was sad, and hopeful. I was struggling, but I was also kind of thrilled by the reality of my attempt to live.
I felt; which was pretty new for me at the time.
At 9:30, an hour before I was going to leave for school, my phone rang. Waiting out the rings, I finally jumped for it at the last second, and I listened as Dr. Synode spoke quickly and abruptly. Telling me he had spares all morning, and a TA to cover his 12:30 class, he wanted me to come see him as soon as I was able. So I agreed.
Driving to the campus, admittedly, I was nervous. I had spoken to Dr. Synode about most of my issues before, but not all. He knew the Patrick fiasco, and he knew my suicidal tendencies, but he didn't know the true depth of my issues. He didn't know about the brutality of my attack, and he didn't really understand my stranger. He knew about my life in point form, and strangely, I was looking forward to telling him about all or part of it in depth. I remember knowing I needed to speak with someone to help with all my confusion.
And so I did. Within 2 1/2 hours of walking into his office at 11:00, I had spoken more to him than to any other person on the planet. And it was weird. It was a floodgate-type scenario. I sat in a chair across from him in his University office and I spilled my guts. I spoke endlessly; and I made sense sometimes, and other times he had to try to reason what I was saying. I spoke quickly and quietly, and with upset and devastation. I spoke with a tragic sense of loneliness deep inside me. I spoke about it all for 2 1/2 hours.
In hindsight, I find it amazing that my life fit into the span of 2 1/2 hours, but it basically did. I told Dr. Synode about everything I could. I told him about my years and years of waiting, and loneliness, and restlessness, and pain. I told him everything, sometimes in graphic detail, and sometimes simply breezed over. But I spoke while he listened intently.
And never did he rush me, or ask invasive questions. He rarely pushed me for further explanations. He never seemed to judge me, nor reprimand me for the things I had done in those years to myself.
Rarely did he speak though, which left me to just spill my secrets. All over his office, I spilled everything that made me me. I told him the details and events which slowly created this shell of a woman. I told him why I felt the way I did, and what made me feel the way I had felt for the better part of my life. I spoke honestly for the first time in my life about my life.
By the end, I was absolutely exhausted. I felt an unbearable heaviness on my chest, wrapped in fear and confusion. I felt weak and lost. I felt like total shit, actually.
Afterward, Dr. Synode looked over the notes he had scribbled down throughout my 2 1/2 hour spillage and placed the phone back on the cradle. Watching him, I had a vague memory of the phone ringing once, him picking it up, hanging up, and placing the receiver back on his desk. I think he thought I was important enough to ignore all calls, which was actually a wonderful feeling, because I realized I was important to him in that moment, and I needed that.
After he glanced at his notes quickly, the silence of the room started to close down on me and I found myself shaking and breathing with difficulty, but quickly he looked at me and leaned forward across his desk to take my hand. Rubbing his thumb back and forth across the back of my hand he looked at me, and started breathing slowly in and out dramatically until I found my body copying his movements breathing slower in and out.
“I want you to come see me tomorrow morning, Sadie. I want you in my office at 9:00 tomorrow morning. Can you do that?” He asked me calmly.
“Yes...” I replied just as quietly.
“Okay. Go home now. Don't attempt classes today- you're not ready today. I want you to go home, get comfortable, make yourself a healthy dinner, and I want you to try to sleep tonight in your own bed as early as possible. I want you to sleep Sadie, but if you can't sleep don't stress out about it. We'll deal with any sleep issues tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“I have a series of issues I need to explore with you before I can help you, but we need to talk more. I need a few answers to some important questions-”
“Like what?” I interrupted.
“Not today. You're done for today. You have made remarkable steps today speaking with me, and I want you to stop for the day. If you have anything important to add, I want you to write it down in a journal tonight so we can go over it tomorrow morning. But you are done for today. I need you to go home, make yourself comfortable, eat a healthy meal and I want you to sleep. Can you do that?”
“I'll try,” I promised. “Will you tell anyone anything I told you today?”
“Never. I promised you multiple times today that I would never repeat anything we discussed, and I meant it.” I didn't remember him saying that to me.
“I didn't know.”
“I told you multiple times that I would not repeat anything we discuss. I told you that I had privilege as a practicing Psychiatrist at this University hospital and that I was taking you on as a patient, therefore confidentiality is not only implied but legally binding.”
“I didn't remember you telling me that.”
“But I did. And I will continue to do so each time we meet until you remember.”
“Thank you, Dr. Synode,” I mumbled. “I'm scared of talking.”
“I know. But I plan to help you learn to speak. You have many issues to work through and many issues to deal with. But I plan to help you. We'll meet frequently at first, and we'll discuss medications and therapies along the way. As for today, I just want you to go home, get comfortable, make yourself eat, and try to sleep. That is the only requirement for today. Will you do that, Sadie?”
“Yes,” I agreed. And I would.
When Dr. Synode slowly stood from his desk, he walked around until he was standing in front of me. But feeling overwhelmed, I pushed my chair back slightly, until he wasn't hovering over me.
“Sadie, I will not hurt you ever. You are my patient, and I will only help you from today forward.”
“Okay,” I whispered as I rose from my chair. Taking a step backward, I didn't like Dr. Synode so cl
ose to me, but I also didn't really feel afraid of him. I was just uncomfortable as I made my way to his door.
“One last thing for today. I want you to change the code on your alarm when you get home. I want it changed tonight, Sadie. Will you do that?”
“Okay,” I answered confused. “What time do you want me here tomorrow?”
“I told you I want to see you at 9:00am. Will you be here, Sadie?”
“Yes.” And as he nodded at me while leaning against the front of his desk, I knew that I would. I liked Dr. Synode for some reason, and I wanted to have a doctor help me. I needed a doctor to help me because clearly I was unable to help myself.
Suddenly crying as I tried to leave his office I asked, “How do you live, when you’ve spent your life waiting alone?”
“I don’t know yet Sadie, but I’ll try to help you find that answer,” he nodded.
“Thank you, Dr. Synode,” I mumbled from the doorway as I opened the door to leave.
“I'll see you tomorrow, Sadie. Have a good night.”
And I left him.
CHAPTER 20
Leaving the Psych Quad buildings on campus I remember feeling absolutely exhausted. Walking slowly to my car in the bright sunlight of mid-afternoon, I had hundreds of memories slamming into my brain with each step I took. I was overwhelmed and exhausted at once. I was crying and confused. It felt like it took me an hour to reach my car, but eventually I did.
5 steps away from my car, I saw Alexander leaning against presumably his own car. Looking at him, he smiled at me, then looked surprised, then upset the closer I walked to my car.
Jumping toward me, Alex made the mistake of grabbing at my arm, which made me freeze, because I didn't want to be hurt suddenly when I had felt like I might be helped. But I think he understood his mistake quickly enough to release my arm just as quickly as he had grabbed me.
“Are you okay? What happened? You look horrible, Sadie. Did somebody hurt you?” Alexander asked a little manic sounding.
“I'm okay. I have to go home, make myself comfortable, eat a healthy meal, then I need to sleep in my own bed,” I answered automatically.
“Can I drive you home, Sadie?”
“Okay...” I mumbled, because realistically, I was barely more than a walking dead woman at that point. Actually, I don't know how I answered that question, and I don't think I had time to think about my answer or the ramifications of having Alex drive me home. I just said okay, and that was it.
“Let me help you,” Alex offered, and I remember babbling something like, I wish you could to him.
Later that day, I remember being shocked by my surroundings.
I was sitting at my dining room table at 4:00, with a towel wrapped around my hair, wearing a pair of sweats and a heavy sweater as Alexander dished me out some spaghetti and a piece of chicken.
I didn't remember stopping at a store for groceries, and I didn't remember showering. I didn't remember anything that led up to that moment at my table, but there I was being served by Alex a delicious, healthy meal in my own home.
And feeling suddenly overwhelmed, I began to cry as I tried to spin my spaghetti on a spoon while attempting to eat. I remember my vision so blurred that I couldn't see what I was doing. I remember trying to open my mouth for food, but an awful sound of crying exited my throat as I fought the sadness that choked me, until Alexander took over.
Gently, he took the fork and spoon from my hands and whispered, 'open your mouth, Sadie,' until I did. Filling me with food, Alexander acted like I wasn't the absolute freak show I felt like. I was nearly comatose and I knew it, but even as I knew it I couldn't change it.
And so I allowed Alexander to feed me until I thought I would throw up from the excessive amount of food my body wasn't used to. He even lifted a glass of water to my lips when my hand shook too badly to lift it.
And when I had had enough to eat, I remember shaking my head no, and the food stopped. Helping me rise, Alexander began walking me to my bedroom, but I didn't want him to go there. It was too soon to try to sleep in my bed. It was too soon to attempt to sleep throughout the night. And it was way too soon to have Alexander near my bedroom.
Stopping him, I touched his cheek and begged quietly, “Would you please leave me now? I have to get comfortable and watch some television until nighttime so I can sleep in my own bed tonight because that's what I'm supposed to do.”
“Are you okay to be alone, Sadie? I can stay outside if you want? I just want to make sure you're okay tonight.”
“I'm okay, but I need you to leave now. Thank you for the wonderful dinner. I haven't eaten in a really long time, so that was delicious. Thank you very much. You cook very well. Thank you. But can you go now? Please?” And then on a gasp I remembered my alarm. “You have to go Alex so I can change my alarm code. I have to! I have to change it now. Please go!” I yelled.
“Okay. I'll see you tomorrow?”
“Okay. I'll be on campus sometime in the morning, but I don't know when I'll be finished and I don't have a class until 2:00, so I don't know when. But you have to go now. I HAVE TO change my alarm.”
“Okay. Good night, Sadie. I'll see you sometime tomorrow. Call me if you want to talk or if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay. I will,” I said quickly, but I think we both knew I wouldn't.
Walking Alex to the door, I practically pushed him out as I turned for the security panel. Looking at the panel I had to concentrate so hard to remember how to change codes. It was weird that something so easy was going to be so hard for me, but then it hit me and I remembered. Punching in the current code, plus the counter codes, following the instructions on the panel, I finally did it. I chose a new 4 digit code, and I even had the sense to write the number down right away because I was likely to forget it by morning.
And then it was done, and I knew why I did it. I knew why Dr. Synode wanted me to do it, and I knew what it might mean.
I knew He would still find a way, but at least I could admit to myself and even to Dr. Synode that I had tried to stop Him from visiting me. I tried to stop my dear stranger for the first time in 7 years from taking any more of me. I tried, which was a huge step for me.
Eventually, after watching multiple TV shows which I was barely aware of, I made my way at 8:00 to my bed. It was still light out in September, but with my dark blinds I made it feel like night as best as I could.
Crawling into my bed I remember allowing the mental exhaustion to claim me. I felt the pull of sleep, and I sank into it deeply. I said good night to the audacious world, and I said goodbye to my stranger. With tears and a heavy heart, I said my good bye as I felt sleep pull me away from the lonely life I lived.
Remembering that day and night, I think that was truly the beginning of my life.
CHAPTER 21
Thinking of Alex, I remember his sweetness to me always. He just had a way about him that was so undemanding, and light, and kind, and even a little fun. He was never intense or dramatic and he never pushed me too hard.
In his special way, Alex guided me into becoming a better, healthier Sadie. He guided me with his kindness into the life I had always wanted to have.
So the following day after my horrifically honest day with Dr. Synode, and my sleeping release from my stranger, I started over again.
There is no other way to describe it. I started over. I met with Dr. Synode every single weekday for a month, I attended classes when I was able, and I walked with Alexander when I was well enough to do so.
And he never asked. Alexander met me when I was on campus and he walked me when I told him I would be there, whether for class or for my appointments with Dr. Synode.
Eventually, the pattern continued until it was just that- a pattern. Dr. Synode and I had scheduled our therapy visits around my classes, and Alex and I had scheduled our walks around my therapy sessions and classes.
And I made it this way daily until Christmas.
My parents of course had contacted me fr
om time to time before Christmas, and I told them what they wanted to hear. I told them school was good, my apartment was nice, my car was running without problems, and my life was well.
So when Christmas came, I finally saw my parents for the first time since the summer. And I knew my appearance concerned them, which I could see all over their faces, but neither of them acknowledged it, therefore, it's like I wasn't this ugly, skinny little sallow Sadie. My mother did however tend to put more food on my plate Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, which I guess was her passive-aggressive attempt to tell me I looked like shit without actually saying it. And I appreciated her silence.
Christmas night I returned to my apartment to a huge gift sitting at my door, and I was thrilled. I could tell from the 'Sadie' on the bag card it was from Alexander, and I was excited.
He and I continued to walk to class every single day. He spoke and I mostly listened, though once in a while I did respond or ask a question about his funny tales. But that was it. We never physically touched, nor did he ever kiss me again.
Alexander made a point of cooking me dinner every Friday night, no matter what my mood was like that day, and I always enjoyed myself regardless of what that mood had been like before he made me a meal. And after dinner he always left me. I never had to ask him to leave, he just knew to leave after the dishes were cleaned up, which was a relief.
I wasn't ready for Alexander to be more than he was then. I wasn't ready for more than the friendship and comfort he had become for me. I wasn't ready for more of anything with Alexander and I knew he understood without me having to explain my emotional inability to be more than companions.