Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
She gasps at the other end of the line. “Jesus, Penny, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Can anything be done for that?”
“Apparently not. Months ago, when I first tried to get off the meds, I tried cold turkey, and that was a huge mistake. I got incredibly sick and ended up right back at Tranquility for weeks. I didn’t know I couldn’t just stop taking them. This time, I’m slowly tapering off them, but every day feels like hell. It’s like I want to go back on the pills just to make it stop, but then I’ll feel worse in different ways. The medication they put me on completely changed my personality. I can’t write, paint or draw at all. They make me a total numb zombie. And don’t even get me started on the weight gain and mood swings. Now I have terrible insomnia and when I do sleep, I have nightmares. I wish I’d never even started any of these medications.”
“That’s horrible. I can’t stand the thought of you feeling so sick. I wish there was something I could do to help you.”
“I do, too. I talked to my friend Londyn, she’s been through this before and she said all I can do is ride it out and not give up.”
“Do you think maybe if you were here, it would be easier? I know you don’t feel overly comfortable there with your parents. If you came here, you’d have me and my dad. You’d have your little art corner in the studio. You could sit by the lake and just enjoy the quiet. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”
I close my eyes, squeezing them against the tears that threaten to fall. I want to go home. My heart is tethered there, always pulling me.
“I appreciate that so much, Lily, but I can’t do that. You have the baby to take care of, and your dad’s career is really taking off. I don’t want to be a burden to you guys. I can’t even work right now, I feel too sick.”
I refuse to live off their generosity. And I refuse to let Alex and Lily see me like this. Vomiting, dizzy, shaking in the corner, chewing my fingernails, pacing all night, raking at my skin. I don’t want little Brian—who knows me as Aunt Penny on video chat—to be scared of me.
Absolutely not.
“We love you,” Lily says. “We don’t mind.”
We. Lily has no idea that me and Alex were—are?— also a we. An us. But what are we now? We haven’t spoken in so long. Every time I get the urge to call him, I don’t let myself. What can I possibly say to him? Hi, I’m a fucked-up mess. How are you? He still texts me a photo every night at midnight. A flower. The moon. Shadow. Always with the same words typed beneath. Still thinking of you. And I always reply. Still thinking of you, too.
It’s limbo. And I hate every second of it, which is why I refuse to give in to this torture and go back on the medication. I’m determined to be me again. An even better me. I want to be a successful, independent woman. I want to be a good friend. And I want to be a woman who can love Alex without it being a secret and without being haunted by a voice and visions in my head.
“Penny.” Lily’s voice pulls me back. “We’re here for you. We want you to come back home.”
“I promise, as soon as I’m feeling better, I’ll come back.”
“I hope so. Please don’t shut us out. You don’t have to go through this alone. I could come out there—”
“No,” I say quickly. “That’ll be too hard with the baby. Just know that I really appreciate you. I’m sorry for being so difficult, I just don’t feel like myself.” My voice cracks and I have to take a breath to compose myself. “I have to go now, my mother made dinner. If I don’t force myself to eat some of it, she’ll be on me all night.”
“I’m calling you in a few days to check on you. I’m not letting weeks go by without talking to you anymore.”
“Don’t worry about me. In a few days, I’m sure I’ll feel better. I’ll talk to you soon. Kiss the baby for me.”
Every night, when I eat dinner with my parents, I feel like I’m going through an evaluation.
Tonight is no different.
I feel bad for my mom. She tries so hard to make my favorite meals every night, only to watch me take small nibbles and push my food around my plate like a five-year-old. It’s not just the constant nausea that’s stopping me from eating, it’s that nothing tastes good anymore. Everything is flavorless on my tongue, like eating cardboard.