Anxiety Girl: Meet Sadie Valentine...

by Lacey London

  ‘You really scared me last night…’ Aldo lies perfectly straight and stares up at the ceiling.

  Seemingly frozen to the spot, I keep my gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

  ‘Did you want really want to… you know… do it.’ He asks, his voice so low I can barely hear him.

  Do it. It sounds so blasé, so innocent. Did I want to go to sleep and never wake up? Yes, of course I did. Did I want to take my own life by overdosing on super strength sleeping pills? I really don’t know.

  ‘Shirley, you’re going to have to talk to me…’ Aldo throws back the sheets and swings his legs over the edge of the bed.

  ‘I don’t know.’ I manage, wrapping my arms around my knees. ‘I honestly don’t know what I was thinking…’

  Pushing himself up, Aldo marches up and down the bedroom for what feels like an eternity before coming to a stop by the window.

  ‘I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.’ He has his back to me, so I can’t see his face, but I can tell from the tone of his voice he is close to tears. ‘I thought you had gone. I really did…’

  ‘Aldo, I’m so sorry…’ I stammer, looking down at the ground as he carries on talking.

  ‘There were so many pills on the floor… You couldn’t talk… You couldn’t stand up…’

  My heart pounds with shame and I try to hide behind my hair. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you…’

  ‘Then what the hell did you mean to do?’ Aldo spins around and stares at me, his brow taught with fury. ‘Go on, tell me. What did you think you were doing when you locked yourself in the bathroom and knocked back a handful of pills? How many did you even plan on taking? One bottle? Two?’

  ‘I only took three pills. I swear it was only three…’

  ‘You did just take three, I counted them, but only because I got there in time! Five minutes later and you probably wouldn’t be here right now!’ Anger seeps out of his every pore as he throws his arms in the air. ‘How do you think that would have made me feel, Shirley? How would I have lived with myself if I would have found you dead in there?’

  A lump forms in the back of my throat as I realise I wasn’t thinking. In that moment, I didn’t have a single thought for anyone else. My only concern was to end my own torment.

  Aldo takes a deep breath and sits on the foot of the bed. ‘I thought I could handle this myself. I thought I could fix whatever had gone wrong in your mind with champagne and shopping trips.’ He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs sadly. ‘You need help, Shirley. As in now, today. I’m making an emergency appointment with your doctor…’

  My bottom lip starts to tremble and I give him a tiny nod in response. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. I do need help. Whether I meant to leave this world or not isn’t the issue anymore. The fact I even contemplated it is enough for me to acknowledge things are spiralling out of control. I have tried to pretend this isn’t a big deal, that I can keep it to myself in the hope that it eventually goes away, but the truth is I can’t fix myself. This is bigger than I or Aldo can deal with on our own.

  ‘We can get through this, Shirley.’ Aldo attempts a small smile and pulls me towards him. ‘We might not have everything together right now, but together we can get through anything…’

  * * *

  The waiting room is just like I remember it, beige, clinical and full of sick people. Only this time, I am one of them. Aldo is right by my side, holding my quivering hand with a steely expression on his face. I don’t quite believe this is my life that I am living. How did I end up here? You hear about people having episodes, don’t you? You just never think it will happen to you.

  A high-pitched ding pops my thought bubble and I look up to see my name emblazoned on the screen above. Aldo gives me a nod and I reluctantly stand to my feet. I feel the rest of the people in the room staring at me discreetly as Aldo leads me towards a door labelled Surgery 3.

  ‘Everything’s going to be okay…’ Aldo whispers, clearly sensing my fear as he knocks on the dark, wooden door. ‘Just tell her everything.’

  ‘Everything…’ I repeat, my blood running cold at the thought of telling a complete stranger my life story.

  A muffled noise comes from inside as Aldo releases the handle and leads me into the tiny room. Stacks of papers surround a lady in a white coat, who is busily scribbling on a notepad. Motioning for us to sit down, she clacks at the keyboard and pushes a pair of glasses up the bridge of her nose.

  ‘I shan’t be a moment…’ She presses a few more keys before folding her arms and turning to face us. ‘How can I help you?’

  Not being able to bring myself to say anything, the palms of my hands sweat profusely as I look down at my legs.

  ‘Shirley…’ Aldo brushes my hair out of my face as the doctor leans across the desk.

  ‘I… I think I need some help.’ I whisper, struggling to contain my tears. ‘I’ve not been too well…’

  ‘Okay…’ The doctor slips her glasses into her blonde curls and frowns. ‘Define not well?’

  ‘I’ve just felt so low. I guess it started when my fiancé left me and I’ve gradually been feeling worse ever since. I tried to pick myself up and carry on, but each day just got harder and more difficult to get through…’

  ‘Go on…’ She presses gently, not taking her eyes off me.

  I feel physically sick as I recall the past few weeks of my life. The tears that seem to be permanently running down my face make a return as I look at Aldo for help.

  ‘She’s had a bit of a rough time, aside from the breakup.’ He explains, rubbing my back encouragingly. ‘An establishment dropped her art work, then she discovered her biological father and started having panic attacks… It’s been one blow after another.’

  ‘And how does all that make you feel, Sadie?’ The doctor’s voice is calm and reassuring as she waits for me to respond.

  ‘At first I felt sad. I was angry and completely devastated.’ I mumble, fidgeting with the cuff of my sleeve. ‘Now I just feel, nothing. I’m not depressed, I’m afraid. I have this dread, this fear inside me that something terrible is going to happen.’

  ‘What do think is going to happen?’ The doctor exhales quietly and picks up a pen.

  ‘I don’t know. I really, really don’t know. I just feel hopeless, like my life has no purpose. I feel empty and scared all the time. I have no interest in the things that I enjoy anymore. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I just want to stay in my bed. That’s the only place I feel safe…’

  ‘I’m very sorry to hear that.’ The doctor smiles sympathetically and scribbles onto a notepad. ‘Have you ever felt suicidal?’

  I immediately look at Aldo and mentally beg him not to say anything. My heart sinks as he shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

  ‘She took some pills last night…’

  The doctor pauses with her pen in mid-flow and waits for him to elaborate.

  ‘I didn’t want to die.’ I whisper, praying she realises I’m not suicidal. ‘I just wanted to stop feeling like this. Even just for one night.’

  She nods in response and bites her lip. ‘How many pills did you take and what were they?’

  ‘I took a couple of painkillers for a headache and then I spotted my mother’s sleeping medication...’ Bile rises in my throat as the memories come flooding back. ‘I didn’t take many, just three.’

  ‘She was sick immediately after taking them.’ Aldo adds, wrapping an arm around my hunched shoulders.

  The doctor turns her attention to the computer and starts to type.

  ‘I won’t do it again. I promise I won’t.’ Tears stream down my face, creating a damp patch on my creased shirt. ‘I just wanted a break…’

  Clearing her throat, she looks at Aldo and places her hands face down on the desk. ‘Could you give Sadie and I a moment alone, please?’

  Aldo gives me a sideways glance and I hesitantly give him the nod to leave. Sliding out of his seat, he gives me a quick hug before he
ading to the door and disappearing back into the lobby.

  ‘Okay, Sadie. I’m going to ask you some questions and I need you to answer them honestly…’

  Chapter 18

  Climbing into the car, I feel weirdly numb as I look down at the pamphlets in my lap. After establishing that I wasn’t a danger to myself, the doctor booked me an appointment to meet with a counsellor and sent me on my way. She did gloss over the various anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medications available, but we both agreed to try counselling before exploring other options. Between you and me, the idea of relying on a pill to trick my brain into thinking everything is alright makes my anxiety worse than it already is. Taking medication is like admitting that I do have something mentally wrong and the thought of that petrifies me.

  One thing I have had to accept, is that the events of late have sent me into somewhat of a depression. The doctor used a whole variety of scary words, which I chose to block out, but her general diagnosis was that I am suffering from anxiety, depression and panic attacks. I wanted to yell at her that she was wrong and that I will be back to normal in a couple of days, but deep inside I know she is right. I just feel ashamed that I have let myself get this out of control over seemingly nothing. I feel weak, too fragile to cope with the things most other people shake off and move on from.

  Letting out a sigh that makes my bones ache, I rub my face and try to loosen the knots in my tense shoulders. The sun is shining brightly onto the car and despite the clear skies, people are still walking around with thick coats and fluffy scarves. Resting my head on the window, I watch a family make their way towards the woods. A couple of dogs walk by their feet as a little boy runs ahead happily with his ball.

  How are people just carrying on with their lives? How can they not know how horrendously low I felt last night? Regardless of what horrendous things happen to you, people might offer a few sympathetic words or an understanding cuddle, but they continue with their lives no matter what you’re going through.

  ‘Well, what did she say?’ Aldo manages finally, fidgeting in his seat as he drums his fingers on the dashboard.

  ‘Nothing, really.’ I mumble, taking the leaflets and stuffing them into the glove compartment. ‘She just asked me a bunch of questions and said somebody would be in touch about a counselling appointment.’

  ‘And that’s it?’ He takes the information pack back out of the glove compartment and flips through the pages.

  ‘Apparently so.’ I turn away and look through the window. ‘She also gave me a number to call if I feel like things are getting too much…’

  When I walked into that surgery, I had a tiny glimmer of hope that I would be finally be cured. That the pretty doctor behind the big desk would take one look at me and tell me she had the exact remedy to take away the pain. Unfortunately, it seems anxiety and depression aren’t as easy to fix as a headache or a nasty cough.

  ‘Alright, if that’s all we can do here let’s get you home.’ He starts up the engine and puts his foot on the accelerator when his phone starts to ring in his jacket pocket. Cursing under his breath, he pulls on the handbrake and opens the driver’s door.

  ‘Sorry about this…’

  He slams the door shut and I watch him wander around the car as he talks into the handset. The radio is playing quietly, but I can still hear every word he is saying.

  ‘I can’t just leave her, Edward…’

  ‘She needs me right now…’

  ‘I don’t know. A week, maybe, two…’

  ‘This isn’t about us. It’s about friendship…’

  ‘She doesn’t have anyone else…’

  ‘What the hell is the matter with you?’

  ‘Well, maybe that’s not a bad idea…’

  Kicking up a pile of gravel, Aldo picks up a stone and throws it in frustration.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ I murmur, giving him a sideways glance as he jumps back into the car and pulls out into the stream of traffic.

  ‘Everything’s fine! Totally fine!’ Aldo stammers as he indicates right and swings the car into the fast lane.

  ‘You don’t need to stay with me. If it’s causing problems with you and Edward, please don’t feel like you…’

  ‘Edward isn’t my concern at the moment, you are.’ Aldo places a reassuring hand on my knee as we fire down the motorway. ‘All I am interested in right now is getting you better.’

  Guilt rushes through me as we continue on our journey home. As bad as I feel that Aldo is getting grief from Edward, if I didn’t have him around, I would literally have no one. My mum is more interested in topping up her tan and as for my girlfriends, Piper made it clear she thinks I am pretty pathetic and Ivy is getting busy with my ex. I think it’s safe to say they’re not going to be the best support network.

  We stop at a set of traffic lights and I glance at a bustling bar. Am I hungry? Thirsty? What am I supposed to do now? Until I get this appointment, I just don’t know what I’m going to do with myself. The impending doom that has tormented me for weeks is still very much with me. It hasn’t decided to subside just because I sat in front of a doctor for half an hour. Panic starts to buzz in my ears as I wonder what exactly awaits me in counselling.

  ‘I don’t want to go to counselling…’ I whisper, unbuckling my seatbelt as we enter the gates to the apartment block.

  Aldo doesn’t answer, choosing to reply with a sad look instead. Following him into the building, I avoid the mirror as we step into the lift and ride up to our floor. This building has become like my prison. It’s the only place in the world I feel like I’m allowed to be. Every time I leave I feel like I’m violating my probation. Like I am escaping my capture. A capture that I fear I’m beginning to become attached to.

  I slide the key into the lock as Aldo buries his nose in the pamphlets I was given at the surgery. Noticing the words mental illness, sectioning and psychotic on the page he is reading, I excuse myself to take a shower and slip into the bathroom.

  As I strip down to my bare skin, I repeat what the doctor said over and over in my mind. It’s official, I’m mentally ill. Not only do I have to cope with panic attacks, I’ve now been diagnosed with having anxiety and depression, too.

  I sit on the edge of the tub and watch the water fire out of the shower head. I’ve never really thought about the health of my mind before. I take vitamins, watch my weight and stay away from cigarettes, but there’s no daily supplement on the shelves to keep mental illnesses at bay.

  Dread washes over me as I realise I might have a long, hard road ahead. The doctor warned me that although help is available, the path back to mental wellness isn’t always an easy ride. The question is, am I strong enough to survive the journey?

  * * *

  Roughly drying my hair with a towel, I quickly brush my teeth and wrap my dressing gown tightly around my body. The sun is starting to set in the sky, casting my usually bright and airy room in shadow. Dropping my towel into the laundry basket, I wander over to the balcony and throw open the doors. The evening air pinches against my wet skin as it whooshes around my body. Not being deterred, I lean over the balustrade and look down at the forest below. The trees have finally lost their leaves. One by one they have turned brown at the edges and gently floated to the ground. Like a snake shedding its skin, the trees just let go of parts of them they’ve carried for so long.

  I find myself quietly transfixed on the scene, mesmerised by how much I can relate to it. Detaching myself from all the bad energy that has been weighing heavily on my mind and clouding my judgement is exactly what I need to do. Just accept the past and embrace the future. No fear, no anxiety, just let it go. If only it came as naturally as the seasons do. Out with the old and in with the new.

  ‘What are you doing out here?’ Aldo steps out onto the balcony and zips up his jacket. ‘It’s freezing.’

  ‘I was just getting some air.’ I turn to face him and take a seat in one of the rattan loungers. ‘Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to throw mysel
f over…’

  He shoots me a glare and I immediately feel bad. ‘Not funny, Shirley.’

  ‘Sorry…’ I mumble, pulling a cushion onto my lap. ‘I was just trying to make light of the situation.’

  Aldo doesn’t respond and takes a pamphlet out of his pocket, quickly becoming engrossed in the text.

  ‘This is bullshit.’ He mutters under his breath, his brow creasing into a frown as he holds the page an inch from his face.

  ‘What is?’ Shuffling around in my seat, I cross my legs to get comfortable and turn my back to the breeze.

  ‘It says here it can take weeks if not months to get a counselling appointment.’ He pulls out his phone and starts to tap at the screen.

  A mixture of relief and fear rushes through me. On one hand, I am thankful for escaping the dreaded counselling for a while longer, but on the other, I’m scared of what might happen in the meantime.

  ‘Hold on, look at this.’ Aldo clears his throat and passes me the handset. ‘There’s an Anxiety Anonymous meeting in Wilmslow tomorrow night.’

  ‘Wilmslow?’ I repeat, my mouth becoming dry as butterflies flutter in my stomach.

  ‘What’s the problem with Wilmslow?’ He asks, adjusting the waistband on his jeans and reaching for the ashtray. ‘It’s just around the corner.’

  ‘That’s the problem.’ The hairs on my arms stand on end as I picture our neighbouring town. ‘It’s so close to home. Cheshire’s a small place, people talk.’

  ‘I don’t think now is the time to be bothered about idle village gossip, do you?’ Not accepting my protests, he stuffs the leaflets into his jacket and shrugs his shoulders. ‘You’re going tomorrow and I’m coming with you…’

  Chapter 19

  How did it come to this? Blinking back tears, I tap my fingers on the dashboard and try to keep calm. All the way here I have wanted to pull on the handbrake and race back to the safety of the apartment. A part of me hates Aldo for making me do this, but inside I know running away from my problems isn’t going to help me one iota.