Kill, Love, Repeat

Chapter Trés

                                                                                             (PAST/ PRESENT)

Three years have passed since I stopped going to a psychologist but I do attend some times to therapy sessions. I missed telling my problems, being a narcissistic selfish kid to Anne Rhodes, my favourite psychologist/therapist. She did not only listen to me. She would advise about everything. She gave me the best care physically and emotionally. I remember the many times I was in a hospital bed because I wasn't fed properly when I was little but having her by my side, made me feel happy and safe, I was hesitant as to what that might feel bit it was definitely different from I experienced being with my real mother. 

According to the doctors who treated me for my past head injury, they also discovered I had difficulty identifying and experiencing emotions. They called it alexithymia. Well, no kidding! I  didn't need a diagnosis, I knew something was wrong with me the minute I got out of the basement. When Anne found out about my disability, she got me into a weird programme where they were enhancing that part of the brain with a mix of technology and science. She said it would be worth it being on the trial. And so I did, I had multiple surgeries. I would wake up feeling drained and with a terrible headache.

As soon as I opened my eyes Anne was there, every single time. We had some memory and social exercises I had to do to test that all parts of my brain were working properly. Sometimes I failed. Sometimes I felt like I wasn't even there. I think she was the closest thing that I had to a real mother-daughter relationship. 

All I remember was Anne making sure I ate properly. She would be there before and after the surgeries, I asked myself why was she going through all the trouble. I was capable of taking care of myself.

After trying so many times, it turned out the surgeries did nothing to me. They never worked, I was still the same emotionless person. Again, not a surprise.

There was one day when I cried but I didn't know what made me cry. Anne was my best therapist and yet I never told her, I knew it would make her happy, but I never did. I wonder why?

She once said to me, "I felt disappointed when we found out that you won't be able to fall in love or love someone ever." I was aware that she cared for me but I couldn't express myself either with words or actions. And then I thought, the outside world had mixed signals about love. Sometimes it was pleasant, but sometimes it would make people like Romeo and Juliet die? I mean, I am not up for that, I guess I dodged a bullet. 

But now? I feel different. It's probably the place it makes me feel better. Or so I thought...And now, the present time makes me want to put into practice of what I learned from her. I stopped taking my meds, I didn't need them anymore. I am feeling way better though. Or so I thought...

"Dear diary or to whoever sees these pages first;"

*I can't believe that even though I no longer have to go to psychology, I continue the habit of writing in a diary like when I had to show it to Anne. Pathetic.

Living in Hackfall, North Yorkshire for some time now has been amazing. England is so beautiful. I love nature so much. I feel like nature speaks to me. I feel comfortable, walking or running through the green forest. Or like I would describe in my sessions "the green paradise". I would take a deep, deep, very deep breath and feel the fresh air running to get in my lungs. I'd hear the sounds of animals or silence. I somehow feel more connected to animals than humans. That's why I always have Mackie with me. I love her so much and maybe I spoil her too much. I feel like I finally left everything behind. All of my past is still inside my mind, but not in my life. But not everything was gone...