I'm Here to Fix You - Broken Souls Series #2

He walked out on me

CHAPTER 71 - HE WALKED OUT ON ME

Name: Silvia Banchi

Age: 27

Nationality: Italian

Job: translator/editor

Living parents: Andrea Banchi, Luisa De Marco. No siblings.

Moved to Boston 4 years ago.

Blonde girl is Tess, my best friend.

Dark-haired guy? Why won't he say?

Little to no friend. Boyfriend??

I scanned through my notes over and over again, trying to rake my mind for the flimsiest piece of memory I could find, but nothing. Absolutely nothing. Zero. Nurse Jackie keeps on telling me to be patient, but it's been over two weeks, and I'm still at square one. I remember nothing. Nothing.

It's frustrating. All these people stick around me, all happy to see me, they're all so nice and loving, but ... I don't remember them. Any of them. Not even my parents, damnit. I could tell it was the truth, that they are indeed my parents, only because, once I'd looked at myself into the mirror, I could see a resemblance with the man, and I definitely have the woman's eyes. So those are my parents, yet nothing of what they say sparks up a memory.

They tell me about my childhood, my teen years and everything ... but I remember nothing, nothing. It's ... as if there's something that blocks out every memory. I haven't told them this, but ... the therapist I started seeing yesterday says it might be a trauma of some sort. Not that I hadn't gotten to that conclusion before her, but that's another story.

I mean, there might be some ... trauma in my life, and it's possibly why my brain has decided to block out all the memories. It's like ... a coping mechanism. Like ... I can't go back in time to fix what hurt me, so my brain took the first chance it got to do the next best thing, namely obliterate all the memories. It gives me sci-fi vibes, I know, but ... my own therapist says it happens, it does happen, a lot. People that have gone through a tough trauma often find themselves suffering from amnesia. The more deeply rooted is the trauma, the deeper amnesia goes, the more memories are blocked out, the harder it is to bring them back.

I could spend years not knowing who the heck I am. I could spend the best part of my life just trying to recollect memories of who I was. But I won't. No. I will not waste away my youth in some semi-unconscious state. I will not surrender to these games my mind plays, I will take back my memories, all of them.

I've written down a timeline, you know. Nurse Jackie says I should take step by step, but I've never been much of a patient woman, which is funny to say, because how can I know my character if I don't know myself? But either way, the point is, I've written down a timeline, split memories and phases of my life, so that I can spend a precise amount of time on each, without wasting one minute.

I'm not gonna spend years trying to remember who I was. I'm gonna do what the books I know I have read taught me: I'm gonna investigate. Say hello to Detective Banchi, she just got a new mission.

***

"Ugh, damnit!" I cursed when I tried to stand on my own. I started physiotherapy the other day, and I seemed to be getting better, but no, I still cannot freaking walk on my own legs. Ugh! It's so frustrating! Especially because, apparently, it's psychosomatic, namely, it's all in my head. There's nothing wrong with my bones, they're perfectly fine, yet I still find it hard to walk on my own, or eat with my own hands, because I feel maimed, or rather, my mind tells me I'm maimed, and consequently my body acts as if it were maimed.