Learning How to Bend

February 12

It took four days of agony for me to realize how wrong I was. I did not have any food in my fridge, so I constantly had to pay for delivery. I tried working on things for AI for a couple hours each day, but anything more sent my head into a dizzy spell. Not to mention the ache which never lessened, only grew stronger with each passing moment I spent standing up. For those four days, it was all I could do to roll out of bed in the morning. My day's activities mostly included taking care of Chelise—although not walking her once, much to her dislike—and trying but failing to adequately function despite the pain in my head and in my chest. The first day after Joe left me, I tried to act like everything was normal, but it was not. My apartment felt cold, and not just physically. The air was stuffy and tense, and I felt like claws were closing around my heart, constricting it until it could no longer pump blood through my body except to make everything hurt. I tried taking aspirin, but it did not even take the smallest bite off the pain. I was shocked to find myself wanting the prescription pain medication, but I could not take it. I did not know how much of which to give myself, and I did not want to overdo it. I may have been depressed and scared in the past, but not anymore.

There was only one good thing out of any of this situation: my dreams. I never thought I would say that. I had what I suspected was the worst nightmare of my life that first night I was completely alone. I woke up sweating and trembling, my adrenaline coursing through my muscles and causing my whole body to pulse like my heart in my ears. I stood from my bed, ignoring the throbbing in my chest, and started pacing my living room back and forth until I could not feel my feet and worried I would narrow a rut in my floor.

At some point, I fell back asleep on the couch. I did not know what time it was, nor did I care. In the resulting dream, both Marcus and my childhood demon were there. They saw me as weak, as miserable, as easy prey. For a time, I cowered in the fetal position in the corner of my mind, allowing them to kick and punch me with their fists and their words. I had done this to myself, they told me. I had allowed them to take control of my mind in my sleep by shoving everyone else out of my life.

They were right about one thing: I allowed them to do it. What I had given, I could also take away. That night, I stopped letting them abuse me. I stopped seeing myself as a victim, one who could never recover. I was a survivor. Of trauma both mental and physical. When I stood firmly before them and defended myself not with words but my actions, they both lost their authorities over me. Marcus's words became unfortunate memories I wished I could forget, and the demon, I trapped in a cage.

No longer would my dreams have control over me.

I would control them.

The next time I slept, I did not let either of them intrude. Instead, I focused my mind on the good things in my life.

Susan.

Kat.

Joe.

Chelise.

Thaddeus.

The more I counted my blessings, the easier it became for me to keep Marcus and the demon locked in the darkest abysses of my mind, prison doors shut tight with no possibility of escape. I was throwing away the key. They would never be able to wreck my sleep again, I swore. Because ultimately, they were not real. Marcus was a living, breathing person, yes, but he was far, far away, and he could not get to me. By letting him interrupt my dreams, I was letting him win, just as I was doing when Thaddeus was away in Japan. I would no longer let him do anything. Real Marcus or nightmare Marcus.

I was done.

After that first night, I slept peacefully until the fourth day of my solitude. I was hungry for more than food. I desired companionship past my dog. I wanted someone to comfort me and help me with my wounds, because it was considerably difficult when I could not see any of the scratches on my face or where I might have had anything else wrong with me. I missed the warmth and love of my friends, and I needed both back in my life. They were right. I could not do this on my own anymore. My ego was gone, and I no longer cared. All I wanted were Joe, Kat, and Thaddeus back in my life. Especially Thaddeus. He had been wrong, yes, but I was no different. I needed to apologize to them all.