Freedom from Within

A Brand New Me

"Tala, if you could just turn off your alarm and come down here. Remember you have doctor's appointment today. Dr. Sanders is waiting for you."

I just groaned to the sound of grandma's voice. Her voice is more annoying in the morning than the voice of T. Pain and Whiz Khalifa in 5 O'Clock, which is my alarm tone.

It's been five months since Fatima died, and my situation is not really getting better. I started drinking and smoking two months ago. I was barely eating. I got into bar fights, which I entered illegally with the help of my best friend, Cress. (Yes, Cress lived in the US longer than I had. She was a childhood friend in the Philippines, but her family moved to the US when we were eight, back when her father petitioned them.) But anyway, forward with the story.

It was a good thing I moved to the US before Fatima died. In here, I don't have enough things to remind me of her. What's more, getting access to a shrink is easier, because it's a pretty normal thing here; unlike if I were in the Philippines, I would surely get disgusted stares and unending rumors of why I was seeing a psychologist.

At the clinic, Dr. Sanders was patiently waiting for me.

"Hello, Tala," I love how he says my name. His accent makes me smile all the time. "How have you been?"

"Dr. Sanders, you know I went here last week, right? Nothing's new; I still get nightmares about her."

"Nightmares? Are they the same? What are they about?"

"I call them nightmares. Most of the time, they're about the moments we... Fatima and I, spent together. Like our first and only anniversary. Or the times we went out to the park and have picnic. Or the times we spent in the library discussing a new book we read about. However, the dreams end usually at the time I receive a call about her passing." He seemed to be taking notes of everything I was saying. I really feel comfortable around him. Maybe all psychologists are like that? I don't know, but I consider Dr. Sanders a friend.

"How about the bad ones?"

"Sometimes, they're about her parents blaming me. Or it is her blaming me. Or like, seeing her do it in front of me and dying there while looking at me. Sometimes she looked like hanging while smiling at me. Or she would stab herself to death while looking at me. Or she would say she loves me before downing all the contents of the bottle." My voice quivered. Tears are threatening to come out. Again.

This time, Dr. Sanders took my left hand. He inspected it for new cuts. However, he wouldn't find anything, because I stopped cutting myself there. I started cutting just below my armpits so the scars would be hidden from his sight since I usually wear sleeved shirts.

Just then, he took my right hand. He did the same inspection. Again, he did not see anything.

"Doctor, what are you—?" He just pulled my sleeves up along with my arms. Great, he's really a smart guy.

"Tala, how many times did I tell you that cutting is not going to help?"

"Doc, I told you, cutting helps release the pain. I am tired of crying. Alcohol is not helping me anymore. Even cigars don't help. Maybe weed or meth could help me."

"Don't even think about turning to drugs, Tala. I swear, I would hit your head a hundred times if you do that. And I will send you to rehab right away!"

I raised both hands as if to surrender. "Doc, chill out. I'm kidding about drugs. But really, I'm tired of crying and feeling the pain."

So, that was how our weekly sessions over the course of a year went by. I told him what I feel and he gave me pieces of advice. He gave me pills, Prozac, which I call the "FBH pills" or the "Fuck Being Happy" pills. Toward the last sessions, we talk like best friends do. Once in a while, I visit him to tell him about my life, and I could tell that he was happy about it.

'*'*''*'*'

"Oh, baby," a random girl moaned in my ear as I pumped in and out of her. "Stop teasing me, Tala... Oh. Hmmm. I want you now."

I smirked. "Scream for me." Then, I increased my speed. I fucked her hard and made sure to drain all her energy. The next minutes were all about her screaming and moaning my name.

If you were wondering what happened to me, all I could say is that this is the brand new me. I fuck random women from the clubs Cress and I went to. I never entered a serious relationship since the incident with Fatima. I was a happy-go-lucky type of person when it comes to women.

If you think I became worse, I beg to disagree. This was my way of coping; besides, Cress was a lot worse. Ha-ha! Cress get into relationships then walk away with the hearts of the women she was involved with. She's a bitch; I mean a witch.

By now, I finished my master's degree in business management, and am working on getting another degree, maybe I will take up economics. After college, I started working for my mother's company here in the US. It's in one of the international branches of Alfonso Real Estates. If I was a jerk in my personal life, it was a complete opposite in my work; I am very serious with my career. I work hard for the company because I want my mother to be proud of me. I know how much she was hurt when I became depressed and this is what I can do to make her happy. I want her to feel loved and this is the only way I know how.

One afternoon while I was having my afternoon tea with Cress, my phone rang.

"Hello? Mom. How are you?"

"I am doing great, honey." I can hear the nervousness in her voice.

"Are you sure you're okay? I can hear you trembling."

"Tala, tell me, are you ready to come home?"

"Is something wrong with the company perhaps?"

"Nah, I just want to retire early, my dear. I want to travel and enjoy what little time I have left. However, I want to know if you're okay with it."

"When can I come home?"

"Anytime, Tala. Your home is here. Let Cress handle the company there."

"Hey, that's not fair! Tita, I will come with Tala. I want to see if I can handle the Philippines. I need a change of surroundings."

"Oh, honey, I didn't know you're with Tala. When are you two getting married?"

We both know mom was joking, but we can't help but feel disgusted with the thought. "Eeww!"

"Yuck! Mom, you know that would never happen, right?"

"Just kidding, lovelies. All right, just give me a call when you two are coming home and I will arrange everything."

"Thanks, Mom. Love you!"

"Love you, Tita Araw. See you soon!" Cress said her good-bye and I clicked off the phone. "Tala, you sure you want to come to the Philippines?"

"Cress, don't you think it's time? I mean, it's been what, five years? I want to be with mom. She's old; and just like what she said she wanted to make her remaining years count. I want to be there for her as we lost years together when I moved here."

"Just making sure you're really settled."

"I never really liked this serious side of you."

"You know that you're a sister to me, right? I will always take care of you."

"Gee, Cress. You're really serious," I punched her shoulder. "Thank you for always, Cress."

"Right on! Philippines, prepare for the mighty Cressida Santos!" And all I could do was shake my head.

***

This time, I guess we only have Tita to define. Tita is a Filipino term for "Aunt."