Silenced 2: The Overtaking (Silenced Series) (16 page)

“
It's me. You still mad at me?” I ask, worried.

“
I wasn't mad at you. I’m angry that you’re hurting and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I didn't even recognize it. What kind of person am I? You’re hurting so bad, you're to the point where cutting yourself seems like the only answer.”

“
I cut before I moved here. This isn't your fault.”

“
It partly is. If I would’ve done things differently, you could’ve stopped before it went as far as it did. I could’ve been there for you more, therefore making you feel you could absolutely trust me. I didn't even know you were hurting. Why didn't you talk to me?”

“
It's not that simple. I feel lost, and alone. I figured if I told you, things would have ended badly for us. I honestly thought you’d leave me and still do.”

“
That's crazy. If I leave you which I'm not, I might as well take the razor to you myself. It’d not only hurt you, but it would hurt me. Amber, I love you, and I don't want to see you hurting. I wish I could take everything away and make it all better.”

“
I'm working on it. It's my battle, not yours. I've always let someone battle for me. That's why I ended up the way I did. I began to rely on this artificial thing that doesn't help me. At first it seemed like it did, but in the long run, you're left with horrible looking scars and people look at you differently. They look at you like you are crazy.”

“
Who does that? I'll take care of that.” He says, in an angry voice.

“
No, you won't. I know how to handle it.”

“
How?”

“
Jesus. He might be my answer. A girl in my group Kristen told me about how she gave her heart to Him and is living her life the right way. She says she puts all of her reservations in His hands, and He takes care of them. She told me he helped her through cutting and recovery.”

I decide not to say any
more until I hear his reply. After a few moments, he doesn't say anything.

“
Are you still there?” I ask thinking he may have dropped the call or something.

“
Yeah.”

“
What do you think?”

“
About what?”

“
Kristen and what she had to say.”

“
I don't know. If that's what you feel you need to do, then that's your choice.”

“
I was actually thinking that maybe both of us could try it.”

“
Nah that stuff isn’t for me; I'm more of a physics and scientific type of a guy. You know...evolution.”

“
Well, whatever floats your boat, but at least think about it?”

“
I will. I'm heading off to bed. Love you.”

“
Okay, love you too,” I reply knowing he only wants to run away from where the conversation’s going.

I recline on my bed thinking about how
nice the life Kristen described would be. I wish I had someone within my family to do this with me. It’d be awesome to have someone else I know walk this journey with me. We could use each other as support and make sure we stay on track. Being happy and not cutting inspires me. The anticipation begins to get the best of me, and I have to talk to someone about it.

“Hey Mom, do you have a minute?” I ask looking around the room seeing what she's up to.

“
Sure,” she says as she places her book on the stand.

“
I've been thinking about something since this afternoon. I'm not really sure about it,” I explain, leaning up against the door frame, “Kristen, a girl in group, told me about Jesus today and how He's helped her. I think I want to follow Him too.” I finish smiling, hopeful.

“
That's great, honey. It seems maybe Kristen is a great influence on you.”

“
I like her. But do you really think what she’s saying is true?” I ask, feeling my heart flutter.

“
I gave myself to Him when I was younger. Although I've been backsliding, I still agree with what she’s said.” She replies.

I feel a jolt of happiness flood my body.
“Would you want to do this walk with me if I decide to try it?”

“I think I would.”

That’s awesome! Happiness and delight surge through me, causing my body to feel shaky and tears escape my eyes. I skip over to mom and give her a hug.

For th
e first time in a long time, I’m feeling the happiness I once felt and I hope it lasts forever. We let our arms fall down to our sides and look at one another, while silence takes over between us.

I c
an understand everything my mom’s feeling because I’m feeling it too. I feel at ease with the world.

I
t occurs to me that it would take us to the next level if Landon decides to join as well.

Chapter Twenty

“Welcome back Amber,” Lily says as I sit in a chair getting comfortable, “glad to see you return.”

“
Thanks,” I smile at her.

“
It's great to see you smile. This is our third session. We have ten more to go. I think things are progressing well. Have you had any urges to cut lately?”

“
Yes,” I say without hesitating.

“
Did you give in?”

“
No, I didn't. I met someone at group. When I felt I couldn't beat it myself I called her.”

“
Good job. Did you write it down in the notebook?”

“
I did. Although I was too angry to write it at that moment, I did end up writing it down later, after Kristen calmed me down.”

“
That's fine. Keep up with writing, and eventually you’ll learn your triggers. Afterward, you’ll be able to avoid them.”

“
Oh, something occurred to me the other night regarding the doctors in North Carolina. They weren't all that positive on their diagnosis. One told me I have bi-polar, and the other claimed I have depression. Which is it?”

“
Let me look at their notes. Perhaps they figured it out and didn't tell you,” she says, picking up a file folder from the side table.

I watch her flip through the pages
while skimming the notes. She comes to an abrupt stop and her attention focuses on the page in front of her. I watch patiently while she does her research, hoping she’ll come back with an answer. Not knowing the exact disorder I have confuses me. How could it be hard to see if someone is happy or sad?

“
I see where you're confused,” she finally answers. “The physician noted bi-polar and the psychologist noted depression. I can do some tests. I'll ask more questions about your personal and family history. I’ll compare the symptoms we find to the guidelines. We can focus on that now. I’m wondering if they prescribed you the right type of medication. What medication did they put you on?”

“
Prozac and Klonopin.”

Lily
stands up, puts the papers on the dark oak stand, and walks over to the gray file cabinet. “Okay, let’s get started on the tests.” She says, pulling a few forms out.

Grabbing the forms, I notice it’s
the same questionnaire I filled out in the hospital. I grab a pen and begin answering them again. Ten minutes later, I hand them back.

“
I need to do a few lab tests. I’ll get the referral paper ready for the lab. Go down and hand it to the receptionist. They’ll take care of you. I’m going to call the hospital and talk to the doctors.”

“
Okay. What are the tests for?”

“
Help us rule out other causes for your mood swings. We’ll examine them to be sure everything is all right before we move to the next step.”

“
How long will it take to get the tests back?”

“
It shouldn’t take more than about forty minutes. Is this going to cause a problem?”

“
No, not at all.”

“Okay.”

****

My hearts racing as I make my way to the lab. The waiting room isn't hectic. There are two people sitting in the corner to my right. A television plays loudly while they watch. It’s a good distraction for me because I hate getting blood drawn. A huge neon sign hangs above a wooden desk, instantly grabbing my attention. “
Sign in Here and Have a Seat”
, it flashes in blue, pink, and purple colors. I look under the sign and a touch screen computer sits directly below.

Tapping lightly, I fill out the information and submit it. Suddenly a loud printer sound
goes off and the small black box beside the screen spits out a slip of paper. “Patient number 867”.

Looking around the room, I notice a number displayed in bright red, 865.
It looks like my wait isn't going to be as long as I thought.

Walking towards the
waiting area to take may seat, I notice several chairs have something on the cushions. Changing my mind, I walk to the opposite side of the room and find a clean chair. The guy in the corner whispers to the woman beside him, and they both glance at me. In response, I begin drumming my foot against the floor in anticipation for my number to be called.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the couple continue to whisper. Each time they glance at me, I feel panic raise
, causing me to check my makeup and hair in the mirror. I am thinking the wind or something messed up my hair. Everything looks fine. My dark eyeliner is in place and not one strand of hair has escaped my ponytail.

As I close my pocket mirror, the bandage on my wrist catches my eyes. This must be what they are looking at. The gauze
is beginning to show bits of blood here and there. Instantly, I pull my sleeve down to cover it and the couple looks away.

The ting of the door bell pulls my attention to the door.
A woman with three kids comes in. The kids begin fighting and pulling each other’s hair, while their mom yells at them to stop.

They sign in
, and take a seat directly across from me. The kids continue to glare around the room yelling and carrying on. Seeming annoyed, the woman pulls out her cell phone and begins playing with it. The boys take off towards the magazine rack, pulling them out of their little cubby, and throwing them on the floor. The third sits quietly beside her mother watching every move the younger ones make while yanking on her moms shirt. The woman doesn't glance up to settle her kids.

I shuffle in my seat and lean back, crossing my arms over my chest. The kids continue to be loud which
is giving me a headache. I catch myself taking glances at them to make sure they aren't coming in my direction. I take a deep breath and hold it in. After a few seconds, I slowly let it out hoping my number would appear on the small square box hung on the wall.

The loud speaker beeps and a
man’s voice fills the room. “Now taking number 866 in the lab!” The sign changes the number. A small wave of relief washes over me. I'm next. I glance up and catch the little girl staring at me. Looking up at her, I fake a short smile. She begins babbling like she's trying to talk to me. I nod like I understand while impatiently waiting for my number to be called.

The two stray
boys running around in a circle catch their sister talking to me. They run over and plop in chairs to my left and right. I pull my purse closer to my chest as they begin asking me questions.

“
What's your name? What are you doing here? Why is your makeup so dark? Are you getting blood taken, too?”

I open my mouth, preparing to answer when a beep fills the room
. “Now taking number 867 in the lab!” I jump up and rush through the double doors marked
LAB
. Whoa, that was close. As soon as the doors close, I take a breath of relief.

“
May I help you?” I hear someone ask to my left.

I shuffl
e over to the counter. “Yes, I’m here for some blood work.” I say not waiting another minute for this to drag on.

“
Name?”

I give him my name and verify my information,
“Please follow the hallway into the main room. Take a seat in an empty chair. They’ll be with you shortly.”

Th
is chair isn't as comfortable as the last. The arms widen and the other rests in an upright position. A pleasantly plump woman comes waddling into the room.

“
Hey Hun, I'll be right with you. Let me grab my kit.” She says as she rushes into a small room that sits adjacent to this one. A moment later she waddles back over while pulling a small stool on wheels. Seeing the blood kit, I begin to feel panic strike once more.

“
My, my are you a pale one, or are you worried about the blood?” She asks, concerned.

“
Both,” I say taking another deep breath and letting it go loudly.

“
You'll be fine. Don't hold your breath and focus on taking deep breaths in and out.”

She grabs a huge rubber band and wraps it around my arm, causing it to begin tingling. I can feel my muscles tighten up and my stomach drops. The woman grabs a needle. I look away feeling my hear
t racing and hear pounding in my ears. My mouth goes dry and I become dizzy feeling like I’m about to pass out.

“
Done. You made it. I'll get you an orange juice. Sit tight and I'll be right back.” She says, gathering up the trash and throwing it in the bin beside us.

A few seconds later she waddles back in
. “Here’s your orange juice. You’re free to go.”

“
Thank you,” I reply, grabbing the cup.

****

The results take forever. I sit in the same chair I normally do, flipping through the same magazine. If I don't get moving soon, I may fall asleep. I glance up occasionally watching each person that comes into the room hoping it’s the doctor with the results. Time seems to pass by slower than a turtle while waiting. I hate waiting.

Forty minutes into my wait, the receptionist yells my name, forcing my attention in her direction
. “I have your paperwork here. You can leave now.”

“
Do I take it back to Dr. McKinley?”

“
Yes.”

I grab the paper and
head to my shrink. I don't wait for the receptionist to allow me back; I walk right through her office door.

“
I finally got the paper work. It felt like it took forever.” I say wanting to get this over with.

“
Okay, let me finish up with this patient and we will continue.” She replies, nodding towards the door.

I head to my favorite seat and wait, once again.
Several people are waiting this time, while a doctor talks to a family off in the corner. I hear a little girl softly talking to her mom, while another is loudly chewing on gum. Kids are annoying. Another woman sits next to me while checking her make up a million times within the few minutes I've been here. I think some people need to realize they're not Barbie and there is no use trying.

Dr. McKinley calls me back.
I jump out of my seat and follow her into her office. I hand her the test results. “I hate getting my blood drawn and waiting. That place didn't have many people there, but the kids that came in made me want to beat my head against a brick wall.” I taking my seat.

“
Kids can be rowdy at times, especially if they are fed a lot of sugar or have some type of attention disorder. Let's look at your results.”

I lean all the way back in the chair, resting my back and head. Glancing down at my watch, I realize this appointment went from a scheduled hour to almost three. I'm feeling exhausted and want to
lie down. I keep glancing over to her, and she looks deep in thought, while glaring at the results.

“
I've had a chance to look over your questionnaire and talk to the other doctors you saw. I’ve come to the conclusion you have clinical depression, which is known as major depression.”

“
What’s that, and am I on the right medication for it?” I ask, biting my nails.

“
It's where you feel really sad or low at times. You may have experienced a decrease in the interest in activities you once enjoyed. By adding in the self harm, this would fall into feeling worthless or your way of handling the pain. It's not uncommon, and there are ways to handle it. Common triggers are grief, social isolation, major life changes, and personal conflicts within relationships. Often, it's also seen when there is some kind of abuse. This is a serious illness, but like I said, it's treatable.”

“
Where do we go from here?”

“
You're medication is fine. By watching your body language and hearing you talk, you have an anxiety disorder. This explains the Klonopin the other doctor gave you. I want you to continue to take them and write in the notebook. Finding your triggers will help both of us with your treatment. How are the medications working for you?”

“
I'm not sure. For the past few days, I've had a dry mouth and was nauseous at times. Other than that, I'm as good as I'm going to get.”

“
I want you to take them for about a month. Sometimes it takes a while for them to get into your system before noticing a difference, and for the side effects to go away.”

“
Okay.”

“
I would like to read your notes about your last episode.” She says holding out her hand for the notebook.

I dig in my bag, grab it, and hand it over. She takes a minute to read through my notes before she looks back up,
“You and Landon got into an argument?” She asks.

“
Yeah.”

“
Do you want to go into detail? If you do, I can help you figure out what may have caused the episode.”