✅ A Dose of Humiliation

61. Maternal Instincts

"Can we help?" Mum asked, and I could only shake my head again. I'd known all this before, it wasn't anything new. But it was finally hitting me that my problems with this drug weren't as simple as all the issues with Mrs Miller. There was no magic incantation we could say to the courts that would make this go away; no way to actually win this battle. I was stuck with a monster who would always be living in my head, no matter how many times I overruled her, and that was more than I could cope with.

Mum leaned closer and hugged me, like she had done when I was a little kid. Somehow that made it just a little better. I did my best to explain, and she listened calmly.

"I know you're in a tough place," she said. "To lose yourself is a very abstract fear, that I don't think many even think about. You're having to face it as a reality, and I can't imagine how terrifying that must be. I'm really sorry we've put you through this, and I promise that we will do whatever it takes to help you. But you're tough, and you're determined. And I hope you know that we're all still here for you."

It would have been a touching moment, if I didn't have to interrupt Mum's hug to go to the bathroom again. I wondered if I was perhaps being a little too over-cautious, but I figured that if I got into the habit of going whenever I felt the urge, it would reduce the risk of this thing causing any more problems once I got back to school.

"It makes you pee more often?" Mum asked, when I returned. I could see that she had the extra information pages for Floodgate open on her tablet when I got back. But she wouldn't have had time to read most of it yet. It meant a lot to me that she was letting me choose between telling her, and letting her learn it for herself. I was sure that there were some kinds who would have been mortified by either option, so it would be good to have that decision.

"It..." I started, not sure how much detail I needed to explain. "There's some threshold, some critical level of pressure, measured in the nerves that carry signals from my bladder to my brain. If it goes over that level, it numbs me. Like it switches off those muscles without warning. I don't know what the threshold is, and that's not something I want to experiment with. So... I'm going as soon as I feel the slightest urge. I'd rather not find out the hard way how long I'm allowed to hold it before the Punishment Pill kicks in."

"That sounds terrible. I never would have let them do this to you, if I'd known it could do something so disruptive. I swear, I never thought it was something like this. I thought it was just an embarrassing punishment, something to make a rebellious kid have second thoughts. I didn't take it seriously until it was too late."

"I know," I answered through gritted teeth, and tried not to hate her. I knew deep down that all the things happening to me weren't her fault. All she'd done was believe what Becker told them. Maybe she could have fought back against Dad's decision, but neither of them were inclined to distrust a respected pillar of the community, no matter how racist. I didn't want to blame her, but I couldn't quiet the little voice at the back of my mind insisting that if they'd just gotten a second opinion, I would never have had to go through all this.

"We should have trusted you," she said again, and I nodded. But thinking back about it, I knew that I could have made better choices as well. I could have told them what happened, instead of believing them when they said they knew about it. Any kind of debate would have revealed that we were working from different versions of the story. And even if Dad refused to listen to any argument, I could have tried to justify myself to Mum.

If I'd just asked for a copy of the forms they were handing in, I would have known that what they'd written wasn't true. I was sure that Serena's lawyer friend would have made short work of that. But then... if I hadn't ended up in this state, would we have Serena helping us? Would we have been able to get Marcie and Cecelia out to safety, without painting a target on my back for Mrs Miller to take advantage of? And maybe that was where I could find a little leverage. The Anti-Lorna in my head wanted to hate my parents, and to blame them for everything. But one decision had led to all kinds of unforeseen consequences, and not all of them were bad. There was nothing to be gained by asking 'What if?', and I didn't want to get hung up on those kinds of thoughts any longer.

"I guess I have to tell Dad about this as well," I muttered. I was a lot less confident about that. He seemed so determined to disbelieve me lately, as if searching for something that would justify his actions. I could understand that; he'd done something terrible to me, and he wanted to be able to see himself as the hero of his own story. But it was so easy to be angry with him, and imagine that he just wanted to hurt me. I tried to see it from his perspective, and it was so hard. How would I cope, if I had to face the fact that I was the villain now? I'd come so close so many times over the last few weeks, and it was always a struggle to recognise my mistakes, and to fix them. Especially when it came to Josh.

"Don't you worry about that," Mum's words pulled me out of my introspection. "I'll tell him. And I'll make sure that he understands how hard this is for you."

"Thanks," I said, and then had another second thought. This conversation was making me think about uncomfortable things now. And faced with negative thoughts, my impulse was to make whatever excuse was necessary to drop the subject, go up to my room, and seek solace in a bottle until I didn't remember what had gotten me so upset. And that wasn't a good way to deal with any problem. It might be just as bad as telling myself that I'd been right all along, and anyone I hurt deserved it.

"One more thing," Mum's voice turned me around before I could go up to my room. "I didn't say this properly before. But when you were in a situation so terrible I can't even imagine, you helped your friend. That takes real strength, and that proves to me that you're still you. Thank you. I'm proud of you."

Faced with that, I didn't think there was anything more I could say.