Drowning

by Margaret McHeyzer

  “She was sick?” I can’t get over this. My head is reeling, and I’m barely making sense of anything. “I’m not sure how to feel.” But my body is responding the way it wants. I turn to the Elizabeth and plead with her to help me. “I don’t know what to feel,” I say again.

  “Ivy, do you need a moment?” she asks, her notepad balancing on her knees.

  “I need you to tell me more,” I say turning back to Dad.

  “We kept on top of her problems. But it’s not as easy as just popping a pill or two and everything will be fine. There were so many factors affecting her. We managed to control them all, one at a time. But…” This ‘but’ sounds painful. And I suspect, it’s going to hurt bad.

  “But?” I need him to tell me everything. “It’s okay, Dad. I have to know.”

  “Something changed for her. She got worse, and nothing was helping her. She’d stay in bed all day and cry. I’d wake in the middle of the night and she’d be talking to no one. When I tried talking to her, she’d stare through me like I was talking a different language. One night I was going to cook dinner, but she took a knife out of the drawer, and slit her wrist in front of me. She told me the man beside me told her to do it. There was no one other than the three of us in the house.”

  The man standing beside Dad. Was Azael Mom’s demon before he was mine? I clutch at my chest as I listen to his words. “Go on,” I croakily say.

  “It was getting bad. She told me she needed to cleanse herself for all her sins. She got worse and worse. She’d try to hurt herself every moment I wasn’t watching her. The drugs her psychiatrist put her on ended up causing her to sleep most the time. But the good thing was, when she woke, she had her clarity. But that was short-lived because the drugs were so strong they’d make her drowsy.”

  “Ivy, are you okay?” Elizabeth asks. I nod, but I feel like shaking my head and running out of this room. But I have to know. I have to know everything. “Go on, Stephen.”

  “She’d tell me how she couldn’t live her life in fear of her voices wanting to kill her again, or them telling her to kill one of us. She hated living the way she was. She’d tell me sleeping for eighteen hours a day was not what she wanted for her family. I did everything I could. But her days were eclipsed by darkness. It seemed endless. I thought if I took you and your mother out to the lake, she could feel the sun on her face and maybe that would help her to fight her battle.”

  “The lake?” Flashes of my dreams keep playing in my head. “Was she wearing a white dress?”

  Dad nods. “It was a dress she bought when she was healthy, and she wanted to wear it on one of our date nights. But she rapidly declined after she bought it, and we didn’t get a chance to have another date night. I brought the picnic basket, but forgot the blanket in the car, so I ran back to get it.”

  Hot tears stream down my face.

  “I was only gone for a couple of minutes.”

  “She stood up and walked into the water,” I say.

  “Yes, she walked into the water, and kept walking until her head disappeared under it. She couldn’t swim.”

  “She was screaming for me, Dad. She was calling for me to help her, but I thought she was waving to me.”

  “She wasn’t screaming for you, Ivy. She was telling you how much she loved you.”

  “She loved me?”

  “She loved you so much she thought you’d be better off without her. I saw her in the water as I was coming back with the picnic blanket. I dropped it, and ran until I hit the water. Then I jumped in and swam out to her. By the time I reached her, she wasn’t breathing. I got her back to shore, performed CPR. I got her breathing again for a moment. She made me promise to only tell you the good about her, and not the bad. She never wanted you to know about her mental illness.”

  “Why? Was she embarrassed?” My sobs are making it difficult to speak intelligibly.

  “Ivy, she begged me to leave her. She even packed up and left just so I could move on. She couldn’t cope with her schizophrenia. She didn’t want you to know, because she didn’t want you to think she was weak.”

  “Weak? Dad, she wasn’t weak, she was ill.”

  “Sweetheart, you need to know she loved you with everything in her.”

  It strikes me like an arrow to my heart. “Dad, please tell me I didn’t do anything to make her like that. Please tell me on that day, I didn’t cause her to want to drown herself?”

  “You were perfect. Never think otherwise.”

  “Ivy, mental health problems present themselves in varying ways. What happened to your mother was certainly not your responsibility,” Elizabeth interjects into this intense conversation Dad and I are having.

  In a way, I’m really happy she’s here, but also, I wish she wasn’t. Now that she knows Mom had these issues, she’ll probably look at me closer than I want.

  And even though I’ve only spent this time with Elizabeth, I know she’s really proficient at her job.

  “Dad, why didn’t you tell me these things before? Why leave it until now?”

  “Because of what you did to yourself,” he says. Both our gazes travel to my arms, and I let out a long sigh. “And because of your dreams.”

  “Tell me about your dreams, Ivy,” Elizabeth says.

  In under an hour my life has drastically altered.

  I came here today with all intentions of skating by, giving Elizabeth as little information about myself as I could.

  Even though a small part of me feels betrayed by Dad for keeping this from me, I also understand it. Dad wanted to protect the image I had of Mom, and not tarnish it with words such as ’schizophrenia.’

  But really, I’m the one who’s letting him down by not telling him about my demon and how when he comes to me, he promises me sanctuary if I cut myself.

  I ignore Elizabeth’s request. This is the right moment, “Dad, there’s something I need to tell you, too,” I say. I close my eyes and reach for every ounce of strength I have in myself. I can’t keep letting him down. I can’t let this ruin what Mom died trying to protect.

  The only thing keeping me quiet is my fear of Azael. But the time has come for me to tell Dad what’s happening inside my head.

  The fallout may be hard, but I will never be alone as long as Dad is by my side, supporting me.

  “What is it, sweetheart?”

  The room falls silent.

  I can hear my heartbeat echoing in my ears.

  This is a defining moment in my life.

  One single second can change the path I travel on.

  “Dad…” Breathing in and tightly closing my eyes I say the words I’ve never thought I’d be saying aloud, “…I’m a cutter.”

  Dad gasps.

  Since our first appointment with Elizabeth, we’ve each been having a session privately, and one together each week.

  I haven’t said anything to Tobias or Jared yet, but tonight I’m going to tell them.

  They’re both coming over for a barbecue and we’ll talk about everything. It’s needed, for all of us.

  I want them to know I’ll be there for them, no matter what we go through.

  “How are you, sweetheart?” Dad asks as he begins preparations for dinner.

  Chopping the salad, I nod. “Good. I’ll be truthful, I was expecting you to react differently. But then again, I had no idea about Mom and her…” I stop to search for the right word. Mental illness isn’t right, it implies someone is sick and needs to be fixed. So, I decide to call it what it is. “…her schizophrenia and bipolar disorder.”

  Elizabeth explained the difference between depression and bipolar disorder, and the more she told us about it, Dad confirmed Mom wasn’t depressed, she had bipolar disorder. She would swing from happiness to an extreme low. If she had depression, she’d be on the low with no sight of relief.

  Individually, they come with their own challenges. But being schizophrenic along with bipolar disorder, man, that’s just fucked. Really, there’s no other word that can
be substituted.

  “But it doesn’t mean it has to ruin your life. There are plenty of people who suffer with these, and who manage to live. True, it’s incredibly difficult for them, but it can be done.”

  At our first session, I opened up about everything. And even though I’ve only been seeing Elizabeth for a short time, I feel like I can cope with telling them. I can’t keep running from Azael, I need to confront him face to face, and I need to let him know I’m going to fight. I can’t let him control me anymore.

  “I know,” I say as I slide a cucumber over to the chopping board and begin cutting it into slices. Dad watches me intently, but he tries to hide it. “I won’t hurt myself,” I tell him wryly. His face says everything I need to know.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know I was staring at you, and I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

  “Dad.” I lay the knife down and lean against the kitchen counter. “You need to understand, I don’t have a constant need to cut.”

  “I know. It’s when you find times difficult.”

  “It’s my coping mechanism. It’s a way to release the hurt inside me.”

  Dad hugs me and kisses my forehead. “You’re beyond your years, Ivy. You understand so much more than a normal eighteen-year-old girl.”

  I chuckle at his words. “Really, Dad? Normal? Show me someone who’s normal and I’ll show you a three-headed alien.” Dad laughs and nods his head. “Normal is subjective. What’s normal for you, may not be normal for me.”

  He lovingly pinches my cheek. “You are so smart. And right. I wish more people think the way you do.”

  “There aren’t enough psychologists and psychiatrists in the world for that.”

  Dad’s eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment he stares at me. I can’t help but laugh at myself. Dad’s still unsure, until I see his lips break into a smile. “Thank God you were joking.”

  “Who says I am?” I mumble under my breath, but I keep smiling. Dad heard me, and he was supposed to. There’s a knock on the door, and I move to open it. “Jared!” I almost screech. It’s so good to see him again.

  “Hey, girlfriend,” he says as he enters.

  He’s looking much better, but he still has bags under his eyes. His cheeks have filled out, and not quite as sunken as they were. But the dark rings under his eyes tells me he’s still not sleeping. “You look okay.” I hug him tight against me.

  “Hey, Mr. J,” he calls out to my Dad.

  “Jared, how are you, son?”

  “Hanging in there.” He walks over to Dad and gives him a hug.

  For a long time, Jared’s been a staple in my home. He’s welcome here no matter what time of the day or night he wants to come over. Dad’s always been accepting of him. When Jared came out and told Dad he’s gay, Dad’s response was, “About time you told me.” He knew, and has never had a problem with it.

  I mean, why should he? It doesn’t affect us in the slightest. Jared will always be Jared regardless of who he decides to be with.

  “You know, it’s been a while since you’ve crashed here,” Dad says to Jared.

  “It’s gonna be a while ’til I crash here again. With everything that happened, I’m still struggling with the outside world. My safe haven is home. Coming here was a challenge, but I know I’m safe.”

  “And don’t forget, you’re always welcome.”

  “Thanks, Mr. J. You’ve always been good to me.”

  “You’ve been good to my daughter. I respect the people who respect her.”

  Jared’s ears turn pink as he lowers his head and stares at his shoes. “Thank you,” he whispers.

  “Wanna help with dinner?” I ask.

  “I’ll go clean the grill,” Dad announces as he heads out the back door.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  “You know, your dad is really cool. I’ve always liked him, but I really like him now.”

  ”Dad’s great. He’s always been chill with everything. I’m lucky to have him.”

  “He’s lucky to have you too. You could be out partying and doing drugs and shit, and you aren’t.”

  “Yeah, I suppose. But I’d rather stay in the shadows than be known as the person who’s always out partying. It’s just not my scene. I’d rather be behind a camera then behind a drink.”

  Jared is quiet for a second as he passes me the lettuce . “What time is Tobias coming over?”

  “Not sure. He said he’d be here, so I guess whatever time he can.”

  “I like him, Ivy. When he jumped on you to protect you, I fell in love with him.” I swing my head to the side to look at him. “I don’t mean like in love, I mean he won me over. He was willing to sacrifice himself for you, and that did something to me. He’s a good apple, you should keep him.” He cheekily winks at me.

  “Yeah, I’m in no rush to get rid of him… yet.” I wink back to Jared, and he knows I’m totally joking.

  There’s another knock on the door, and I know it’s Tobias. I rush to open it, and the moment I see him, excitement floods me. He has a calming effect on me when he’s near. “Speak of the devil,” I call to Jared then throw myself into Tobias’s arms. I kiss him before he has a chance to say a single word to me. He still hasn’t told me about this secret he’s hiding. I haven’t asked again. At the moment I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, because I need to fix myself first before I can tackle anything he may throw at me.

  His arms snake around my lower back, and he brings me closer to his body. I can feel the effect I’m having on him, and I love knowing he’s into me as much as I’m into him. “Miss me?” he asks and places a gentle kiss to my nose.

  “You have no idea,” I answer honestly.

  “I missed you so much.” He kisses me again. “I’m so happy I’m here.” I step back and my eyes go to the erection in his jeans. “And this is going to be complicated.” He pulls his t-shirt down. “I’m going to sit.”

  “Good idea, cause Dad’s here.”

  “Not how I want him to see me.”

  “Not how I want him to see you, either.”

  We head into the kitchen where Jared’s finishing the salad, and Tobias sits on the bar stool, covering his… happiness. “Hey, you made it.” Jared holds his fist out to Tobias and they both fist bump. I roll my eyes, such boys.

  “Yeah, how you going, Jared?”

  “You know, getting through. I needed this though.” Jared waves the knife around, implying tonight.

  “Trust me, I think we all need it.”

  “Wanna help us?” Jared asks.

  I burst into laughter, and Tobias’s eyes widen. “In a minute,” he gruffly replies.

  Jared lifts his head and eyes Tobias, whose smile is wide and brash, then he looks to me. My cheeks are on fire. “Oh. Right. Well, Mr. J is just out back, don’t let him see you in that condition.” He waves the knife around in the direction of Tobias’s pelvic region.

  “Jesus. How about we don’t talk about this?” He shifts on the bar stool in an uncomfortable way. I laugh, and he glares at me which of course makes me laugh harder.

  When the laughter dies down, I give Jared a kiss on the cheek, then I give Tobias a kiss on the mouth. “Thank you. I needed you both tonight.”

  “I’ve got burgers, hot dogs, and chicken,” Dad announces as he comes in from the back yard. “Tobias, you’re here. How are you, son?” I like how Dad calls Tobias “son.” It means he likes him.

  “Good, sir. How are you?” He stands to shake hands with Dad.

  “I’m doing okay. Glad you two are here.” He points to Tobias, then to Jared. “You all okay with burgers, hot dogs, and chicken?”

  “Sounds good,” Jared replies, and Tobias nods his head.

  We grab everything from the kitchen counter and head outside. While Dad cooks, we set up the outside table. Once we’re done, we sit and start talking.

  “Can’t believe we’re in the new year,” Jared says.

  “With everything going on, I didn’t wa
nt to celebrate anything. We didn’t even put a tree up,” I say.

  “Clara and Mom tried, but these last few months have been stressful.” Tobias stares at the glass in front of him. “I couldn’t celebrate Christmas or New Year. I wasn’t in the right headspace.”

  “None of us were,” Jared says.

  “I wonder how many from our class are okay?” I ask. “I don’t want to seem cold or unsympathetic, but I actually don’t want to call anyone.”

  “It might help,” Jared says.

  “Or it might not. I’m barely hanging on by the skin of my teeth. I don’t want to be put into a situation I can’t handle. I’m nowhere near ready for that.”

  “You’re stronger than you think, Ivy,” Tobias says, and Jared agrees.

  “Strength isn’t the issue here. It’s whether I’m ready to hear everyone else’s story. Or even have them ask me how I’m doing. I can’t do it, not yet. And I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready for it.”

  “How’s it going with the shrink?” Jared asks.

  “Really? Shrink? She’s a psychologist. And it’s going better than I thought it would.”

  “How so?” Jared asks again.

  Tobias is quiet, just listening to us talk.

  I turn my head to look at Dad, who’s also listening. He gives me a small nod, encouraging me to tell them. Tobias already knows part of it; he guessed it in the hospital, although I didn’t confirm it then. But Jared doesn’t know. I take a deep breath. “I have something to tell you both.”

  “What?” Jared asks suspiciously. Tobias knits his brows together in question.

  “Please, keep an open mind.”

  “About what?” Jared barks.

  “What I’m about to show you.” Slowly, I lift my shirt, and show both of them the many scars on my stomach. Straight lines run in every direction. Some overlap, some run parallel, some are thin and some are thick. Some of the skin on my stomach is rough and raised where scars are thicker, from deeper cuts. Some of the newest scars are still red.