Dear Diary, page 4
My mission was to prove wrong those who questioned my sanity. They would see that I was a regular person. Sad, but regular.
First, I did what my mother always encouraged. I sought the Kingdom of God. After a long, deep prayer, she’d often splash oil around. Being that Clara was a pescatarian, she had plenty of it handy. I grabbed some from the kitchen and rushed back to my room before she noticed.
I knelt beside my bed, rested my knees on top of a plush pillow, and squeezed my hands together. For some reason, I was afraid that if I broke my prayer stance before I said, “Amen,” my words would fall back down to earth. My request had to be heard.
“Dear Lord. Please fix me. If you can’t fix me, then please fix those who look at me weirdly instead of as the beautiful girl you created me to be. Amen.” I unfolded my hands and saw stars when I opened my eyes. But then I remembered something important. I returned to my praying position. “Lord, I miss my mother and brother so much. If it’s not too much trouble, can you please tell them hello for me? Thank you. Amen.” My heart ached not having them around, especially Michael. I wasn’t as sad when he was here.
Feeling good about what I had accomplished, I splashed some oil around the room for finality. For days, my room reeked. And for days, I waited. Nothing changed. Despair still surrounded me, and spectators’ eyes still judged. Then I remembered how skilled my mother was when praying, and if it didn’t work for her, it wouldn’t work for a novice like myself.
On to plan B. I decided to take matters into my own hands. Uncle Bobby and Clara were kind to me, and I wanted to be equally kind to them. I wanted to be that girl they never had due to complications Clara experienced after giving birth to the twins. I figured I could just double up on my meds to make it work faster. I started taking two pills every day instead of just the one prescribed. Although things changed, it wasn’t the change I had hoped for. My appetite decreased while the amount of sleep I got increased. And instead of racing the twins downstairs to the breakfast table each morning, I lagged, if I came out of my room at all. The desire to live faded, and what people thought of me was no longer any of my concern.
The pills weren’t working. After doing a little research to find out why my meds weren’t making me happy, or at minimum, less sad, I learned suicidal thoughts were a side effect of certain antidepressants. What kind of sense did that make?
I felt as if I had entered a lonely place. It must have been the same place my mother entered when she lost her kids. I didn’t just feel like I wanted to die. I had a plan. A combination of Uncle Bobby’s blood pressure meds mixed with whatever Clara took and something over the counter would do the trick. It would be painless. I would drift off to a permanent sleep and not feel the emptiness anymore. Plus, I’d be reunited with my mother and brother, where I belonged.
The thought of what my death would do to the people who had taken me in made me sick to my stomach. I knew the pain of losing a loved one to suicide, and I didn’t want to hurt anyone else like that, but what choice did I have? Uncle Bobby and Clara deserved better, and I was too ashamed to ask for help. I was better off gone.
Unlike my mother, I didn’t leave a note. Notes made things worse.
My suicide attempt failed.
Clara came into my room and found me with a faint pulse. She called the ambulance and remained by my side while I was in the hospital.
“The Lord just placed it on my heart to check on you before I called it a night,” Clara said right before I was transferred from the bed to a wheelchair. Her words were soothing through her always-soft-spoken voice. I knew she cared for me, and I knew it hurt her to find me unresponsive. “We are going to get through this.” She gently rubbed my back as I was wheeled away to the psychiatric part of the hospital.
My stomach burned from being pumped. That alone should’ve been a surefire deterrent to suicide. Admittedly, it wasn’t. Even with the outpatient follow-up care that the hospital had arranged for me, I still wasn’t happy. The new medicine didn’t work either. Every time I alerted the clinic staff, they’d say, “Give it time.”
I gave it time.
And more time.
Years later, I still struggled to be right. I had accepted defeat and gave up trying to convince everyone, including myself, that it was “just depression” and that I would somehow grow out of it. Disorders of the mind weren’t accepted or understood and never would be.
I’d let Uncle Bobby and Clara down so many times that I was surprised they hung in there with me. I just knew that when my eighteenth birthday came around, they’d have my bags packed and waiting at the door. Only, they didn’t. Then I became convinced it would happen on my twenty-first birthday.
“Happy birthday!” the four of them screamed when I finally emerged from my room for dinner after sleeping all day.
I broke down in tears. “Thank you,” I said, relieved. I had been anticipating which park benches I’d sleep on and what shelters would take in a person like me. If all else failed, I’d purposely go crazy. At least at the psych ward, I’d have a bed and food.
Clara hadn’t changed a bit. She was right there to console me. “Oh, dear. It’s your birthday. You can’t cry on your day.”
“Tears of joy,” I said. There was joy in knowing that I’d still have a roof over my head.
Uncle Bobby pushed a small, neatly wrapped box in my direction. I’d never seen him smile so hard, but he exposed his new set of dentures. “Go on, open it,” he encouraged me.
My heart pounded, and my hands shook, thinking the contents inside would be an eviction letter. I nervously held it until my uncle instructed me to open it again. They’d always celebrated my birthday and gotten me something, but this time seemed different. They’d never been this excited. The twins even jumped up and down. Was everyone ready for me to leave?
“Hurry up!” one of the twins shouted.
A Toyota key stared back at me when I flipped the top open. I gasped, thinking I understood, but I was not quite sure I understood. Was the car my new home? “What?” I shook my head, confused.
“Surprise!” everyone shouted in unison.
“A car? You guys got me a car?”
Clara folded her hands under her chin and beamed.
“But . . .” I covered my mouth and gurgled the rest of my words. “I don’t go anywhere.”
“We are hoping that will change,” Uncle Bobby said.
Clara’s long, bone-straight black hair swayed with her nod. “We think you need to get out, smell the air, make some friends, and live. There is so much more to life than being cooped up in a tiny room all day, looking at the same four walls. You’ve done that long enough.”
Maybe there was more to life for them. They were regular and could function. I was not.
I was surprised to hear Clara say that anyway. She and Uncle Bobby made a lot of decisions to ensure I stayed away from harmful people. Isolation became my comfort zone. Because of my issues, Uncle Bobby and Clara felt homeschooling was the better option for me, so I never made friends, and even before my life changed, Michael was my only friend. The back porch was the closest place I went for fresh air. And if I left the neighborhood, it was always with my family. I was comfortable being inside. I felt safe. I felt unjudged.
“I don’t know what to say.” I wept into the collar of my pajama shirt.
“Wanna take it for a spin?” Uncle Bobby asked.
“Let me change real quick.” I dashed upstairs, took the quickest shower, sprayed an abundance of peach body mist on, and even combed my hair for the first time in weeks. I had to look right for my first time driving my own car.
About thirty minutes later, Uncle Bobby hopped in the passenger seat while Clara and the twins piled in the back.
I drove us to get ice cream, and after I whipped the car into the driveway, lightly bumping a shrub in the process, I ran to my room and dove into my bed, kicking my legs like I was treading water. If my mother hadn’t taught me to drive or taken me to get my license before she died, that car would have been a waste. I smiled harder, reminiscing over the many times my brother snuck and let me drive our mother’s car even before she did. I sighed at the thought of missing them.
“Congratulations!” interrupted my celebration.
I froze for a second. I didn’t recognize that voice, and who would be in my room at this time of night? I shook away that thought after I looked around and didn’t see anyone. All the excitement had me tripping, but then it happened again.
“Congratulations! Happy.”
I jumped from the bed and tiptoed to my door. “Twins?” I whispered through the crack out into the hallway.
“No,” the unidentifiable voice answered, sounding like it was at a distance.
My eyes widened. “Who’s in here?” I asked as I clicked on the light and ran to turn on my desk lamp.
The voice giggled. “A friend.”
I bolted into the hall and stayed there for hours. Whatever I did, I knew I couldn’t tell Uncle Bobby and Clara. My car would surely be my home. Once I calmed down, I eased back into my abode to grab a pillow and blanket. Even though I had shifted to the couch, I still felt a need to watch my back. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep, only to be awakened by another faint whisper.
“Eva.”
I jumped up, swinging, and caught Uncle Bobby in the arm.
“Whoa! Whoa!” he shouted, trying to hold my arms.
When I realized it was him, I fell back onto the sofa, panting and sweating.
“Bad dream?” he asked, breathing hard himself.
I nodded. “I’m so sorry. I would never—”
He held his hands up to silence me. “I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” He hugged me tightly.
“So you’re not kicking me out?” My lips were pressed into his armpit, so the question came out muffled.
Uncle Bobby looked hurt by what I asked. His head hung low and moved from side to side. “What? What would make you say that? No one is kicking you out. You can stay here as long as you want or need.”
I hoped he meant that, because I never saw myself being on my own. Lord only knew what would happen to me after he and Clara transitioned. “Thank you, Uncle Bobby. You and Clara have been so good to me, and I know I’m not the easiest person to deal with.”
Uncle Bobby laughed. “Nonsense. Continue to work hard to stay healthy, and things will turn around. Speaking of which, the pharmacy called the landline. They finally got everything worked out with the insurance. Your refills are ready.”
Then it hit me. Because of a mix-up between the pharmacy and insurance company, I hadn’t had my medicine in a few days. That explained the voice.
“Why don’t you drive that new car of yours to the pharmacy and pick it up?”
If my eyes weren’t attached, they would have popped out of the sockets and rolled around the floor. “By myself?”
“Why not? What’s the point of having a car if you can’t just go?”
“Oh, my God, Uncle Bobby. Thank you so much.” I almost cut off the poor man’s circulation with how hard I squeezed his neck. I had a license, but I had never driven anywhere alone, always supervised. I was scared but more excited than anything. They really did trust me and love me.
“Be careful. Signal, and double-check your blind spot,” Uncle Bobby reminded me.
“I will,” I yelled. I was almost to my room before he got it out. Funny how the excitement made me forget all about the monster that had whispered to me the night before.
Entry 6
Dear Diary:
“Eva Moss?” I was greeted from behind.
I knew who it was before I turned around. His voice was still recognizable. When I turned around, he stepped back and took in every essence of my being. My five-foot-seven-inch, size-six frame hadn’t changed much since we last saw each other. There was a little weight gain because of the antidepressant, but it was nothing to frown upon. By the way he looked at me, I could tell that he still hadn’t lost his lust for me after so many years.
For the first time, I felt something too. It was an immediate attraction, but not because of his good looks. What attracted me to him was the way he made me feel inside. “Myles,” I finally uttered. I was surprised by his attire. No animals. No flames. Nothing immature with what he wore. He looked fancy in the gray Italian-cut suit, blue dress shirt, and matching tie. His cologne swiveled around my nose even at a distance.
“How have you been?” he asked and tried to lean in for a hug, but I took a step back.
It took me a minute to answer. A burning sensation lurked inside of me. It felt like Freddy Krueger himself scratched to be freed. It hurt and felt good at the same time. The whispering monster was back. I tried my best to ignore it, but I didn’t know how much longer I could hold on.
“You look amazing. I didn’t think you could have grown to be prettier than you were in high school, but I have never been more wrong,” Myles added when I didn’t answer the initial question.
My heart felt as if it would burst through my chest. “Um . . . I . . . um . . .”
The intercom sounded. “Pickup for Moss.”
Without a goodbye, I turned and rushed to the counter, hoping Myles would have disappeared, but when I finished my transaction, he was still there. I attempted to walk past him as if I didn’t see him, but he stopped me.
“Hold on a second.” When his fingers touched my forearm to slow me down, a surge went through me. I thought I was going to pass out.
“I’m sorry, Myles. I really have to go. It was good to see you, though.”
Dismissing him didn’t work. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, just like before.
“I thought I’d never see you again.” Myles took a step back. “You are even more beautiful now than you were back then,” he told me again.
Although my face wore a frown, my heart smiled. No one from the opposite sex had ever complimented me like this before.
“You know I’ve had a crush on you since school,” Myles added. “And seeing you today, it hasn’t changed.” Myles smiled, and when I didn’t say anything, he continued talking. “I’ve tried looking you up on social media, but I couldn’t find you. You were private back then, so I figured it was the same now.”
I awkwardly rocked from side to side. “Yeah, I’m still pretty private.”
“You still live in this area?”
I stole a glance, nodded, and then returned my attention to the triangle-shaped floor tiles. This man sent electric shocks through my body, and if I didn’t get away from him, he would be picking me up off these triangles.
“That’s cool. I’m visiting my parents and stopped in to grab their medicine. I figured you would have moved away too with all that happened.” Myles realized his slip. He bit his lip and tightly closed his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, shaking his head.
All that happened. He meant because he killed my brother. Everything around me seemed to stand still. My eyes strayed back to the floor and traced over the shape of the triangles once more. Or does he know I am crazy?
“I’m sorry about your mom, by the way. She was the best.”
If he knew about my mom, then he knew about me.
“I’m sorry if this is too forward, but can I call you?” he asked. “Maybe we can catch up.”
“I don’t have a phone,” I lied.
Myles nodded and pointed. “Well, what is that in your hand?”
Dang.
“Look, Myles, I appreciate the interest—”
“Uh-oh.” He took a step back. “Let me down easy.”
“I don’t think it would be a wise thing to do, that’s all.”
“I understand. But still, take my number in case you want to catch up.”
I sighed out, “Okay.”
“Can I program it in that phone that’s not yours?” he laughed, and so did someone else.
I spun around and kept spinning, trying to see who was listening. It was just Myles and I from what I could see. “Did you hear that?” I asked.
“What? The sound of rejection?”
I ignored him and peeked down the aisle to the left and right of us.
“Is everything okay?” Myles asked.
“Say yes,” someone instructed me.
I gasped and jumped back, knocking over the endcap bookcase. I didn’t bother to clean it up. I had to get home.
When I rushed off, the pharmacy aisles became a maze. I was a mouse trying to find my way out. HAND AND BODY LOTION. SKIN CARE. ACNE. The large white lettering that sat atop a gray background, accented with red numbers, that hung from the ceiling only confused me more. This CVS was practically my hangout spot, yet I couldn’t navigate my way out.
“Where’s the exit?” Sweat snuck from underneath my bra. The ten rolls of deodorant under each arm were no match for the perspiration that immediately had me smelling like mildew.
I turned down another aisle. “Allergy. Children’s health. Cold remedies.” Everything was hazy. I kept going. “Deodorant. Bath care. Sanitary.” There was the pharmacy again. I reversed my feet and backed into Myles.
My hands fumbled the white paper bag, and my heartbeat amplified. “Jesus, Myles, you scared me.”
“I’m sorry.” He bent down and picked up my two medicine bags, which were stapled together. “What are you looking for? I can help.”
One of the bags ripped when I snatched it from Myles’s hand. “I got it. I don’t need anything from you.” I didn’t mean to snap, but those bags held sensitive information and were none of his business.
A worried expression spread across his face. “Are you okay, Eva?”
What was I supposed to say? “I think I hear voices, and I’m lost in a square space that has one way in and one way out”? A blind person could have made it to the exit before me. All I had to do was face the opposite direction of the pharmacy and walk outside as I had done many times before. For some reason, my brain and body wouldn’t coordinate.
“Well, can I at least walk you to your car?”
