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17

The few hours after my dad's lecture were filled with nothing short of absolute mental anguish. Max had left after about ten minutes to partake in the post race conference to which I pretended him leaving was something I had longed for. I on the other hand could stay in my drivers room for another good 30 minutes since I would be partaking in the second conference. I was dreading my portion of interviews since I was not sure wether or not I would be able to handle the grilling questions I would surely face after such a fiasco. As weird as it it to admit it I actually felt relieved to not be alone, even if that ment spending time with Max. He had been unusually tolerable, either asking polite small talk questions or simply enjoying the silent calm my driver's room provided.

Though the second he left the thoughts came creeping back in, just as I knew they would, just as they always did. Being alone after having one of my episodes always ment that my head would be an utter mess. My hands would shake for hours even after I had calmed down and the pressure inside of my head could stay for days after, as could the feeling of not really existing. It's one of those fun quirks of my mental issues, whenever I'd get an episode the day before and days following would be filled with a sense of not really being real. Like I wasn't actually living but rather watching my body from afar, like there was a glass wall between me and the rest of the world. It is scary as hell.

I hated being alone after one of my episodes but I also hated asking for help. That is what I had my brother, Kevin and Marcus for. For as long as I can remember having the episodes I also remember the boys. By now they have identified and memorized my tell tale signs to the point where they usually notice and oncoming attack before even I do. The most of the time they just sit by me and let me cry, they know not to touch or talk to me since it would only escalate me. Though some times- only when necessary they will help me regain control of my breathing before I pass out.

It is this weird unspoken agreement between us. They get to stay by my side as long as they keep out of my space. Sometimes I think that I don't tell them often enough how much they mean to me. The boys have always just made me feel safe. Ever since I was around nine or so they would never leave me alone, always keeping a watchful eye on me. The whole body guard thing continued all the way until I entered f3, by that point they had progressed far enough in their own careers as to where it would be impossible for them to watch over me every second of every day. Though they do still try.

***
I watched the clock tick on untill a gentle knock could be heard from the door, only seconds after it Vanessa poked her head through with a gentle smile. "Conference starts in eight, we have to leave in five- just a heads up" She probably decided against pushing me to leave early, given the concerned look she was sporting I guessed that I looked a wreck and would have to do something about it, fantastiskt åh vad jag älskar mitt liv, inte.

After the door had been closed again I let the big sunglasses I had been wearing fall off my face and down onto the cushion next to me. I pushed off the couch with a sigh, running my right hand over my puffy face and started to walk over to the desk situated by the window for the perfect natural light. As I looked in the mirror I understood why Nessa had looked so worried, I looked like shit. My face was puffy and cheeks still red with tear stains, my hair was also a frizzy mess after me frustratedly pulling at it. After switching on the lights surrounding the mirror I reached for the small beige makeup bag that was resting against the wall.

Getting ready only took about three minutes, I touched up the flaws of my tired face with some light makeup and quickly threw on some jeans and a RedBull t-shirt. After having one final look in the mirror I decided to put my hair up into a ponytail since I was quite roughed up and I did not have the time to look for my hairbrush.

***
The conference was quite slow going. To my surprise the questions were mostly focused on Carlos and his surprisingly good outcome seeing as the Ferrari had been predicted to struggle with even making it into top five, the victorious Spaniard who was currently tiptoeing around answering some backhanded question that had the objective of making him look arrogant.