Authors Notes
I need to show my love for Jill and Charlotte who as always are there when I need a swift kick up the ass and a massive 'welcome to the team' my new Pre Reader Sarah.
This Chapter is dedicated to my beautiful best friend Rachel, who over the last twelve months has proven to me that a person can overcome almost anything… love ya!
Well obviously I don't own twilight or the characters, but I do own the plot and all Lovestrong related ramblings! This Fic is rate M for a reason: for the Motherf#*king bad language, the Mind blowing future lemons and the Mangled lives of our Bella, Edward and Mallow!
That's all from me... Enjoy!
Lovestrong
Chapter 7. My calm before the storm.
EPOV
Two pissed-off girls stood in front of me, the only reminder that Bella was here no more than five minutes ago. They both look ready to pounce; they can come at me with all they got, for all I care. Bella's reaction was a killer, and I can feel myself dissolving into a shaking, panicky mess. I need to get the fuck out of here…and I have to speak to Garrett. On autopilot, I somehow remember my original mission. Bending down to pick up the bag of cat food for Mallow, I can hear the two girls debating on whether to 'kick my ass' or leave me alone with my misery… that obvious, is it girls? I think to myself. Looking up I notice they have made their decision-they are following in Bella's footsteps and leaving my sorry ass to wallow in pity.
Hurrying to the checkout, the need to get home, being alone is becoming suffocating. I pulled my black t-shirt loose around the collar… "God… It's getting warm in here," I murmur to no one. I don't even look at the girl as I pay her for Mal's food. It doesn't go unnoticed that everyone is watching me, more than likely waiting for me to flip out; not giving them the satisfaction, I grab the bag and rush out to my truck, panting with unease.
Standing next to the truck, I keep my eyes on the ground. I try focusing on something…anything, but my skin still begins to feel like its burning, a sure sign that my anxiety is creeping in. Fighting to remember the way Garrett taught me to calm down; I hold on to my wrist… count the beats, Edward. It's working; I can feel my heart beat slow. Leaning back against the truck, I raise my head in time to see a black Audi roaring out of the parking lot. But it's not the Audi that catches my eye; it's the look of longing and pain on the face of the girl in the passenger seat…Bella. As the car disappears from sight, my heart beat has all but returned to normal; she always did soothe me. Looking down where my hand still has hold on my wrist, just above my pulse point, is my constant reminder of my recovery and how Bella was on my mind a lot of the time. It's the second of three tattoos I have, a nautical star wrapped in blue and green ribbons.
Getting into my truck, I know I should really take a minute to calm down before I drive home - just to sit and recover - but my cell phone sings out, disturbing me from my inner thoughts. Looking down at the screen I see that its Alice… of course it is, I have been so long, she probably worried shitless. Maybe I should let her wait; she's interfered enough for my liking.
"Hello Alice," I snapped, answering her call.
"Edward… where the hell are you?" Alice's question comes out as one massive, strung together word.
"I am fine, the store just took longer than it should have; I am on my way back now."
"Thank god…I thought…well I don't know what I thought…maybe, you had seen…Bella?"
Damn Alice…it's like she see this shit in her head before it happens…
"Urmm…no Alice, I just…fuck, I just needed some time by myself," I replied, deciding not to let Alice know what had just happened… she would freak the fuck out and I'd never get rid of her today.
"Right…so as long as you're okay? I am going to head out-Jasper called, and I am meeting him after work, so I need to get my errands done…Oh, Edward? Do you wanna meet me and Mom for coffee tomorrow afternoon? Well, she kinda knows Bella's home, too." Dammit, does everyone in this town know about Bella but me?
"No Ali, I think I might give it a miss, I'm really not ready for that conversation."
"Yeah, I guess so…okay sweetie, then I will see you in the morning… oh and Edward? I am sorry I didn't tell you about Bella sooner, but I just wanted it …to help." I could hear the apology in my sister's voice, but I just wasn't ready to let this shit go. Help or not, now, I was one revelation away from a full-fledged fucking breakdown.
"I know you meant well, but I just wish you hadn't… you piss me off with your interfering, you don't realize what this is doing to me. Alice…I love you but I gotta go… I will see you tomorrow."
"Bye, Edward, I love you too." Alice's voice is strained; she thinks she knows how I am feeling, just like she knows I am hiding something. I will tell her eventually; I was finished with keeping secrets from my family years ago. They did nothing but destroy us, one lie at a time.
I have tried so hard to change the way I see myself, but sometimes I find it so hard to keep my temper under wraps. When Alice told me she went behind my back, worked with Charlie and meddled in both mine and Bella's lives, I was pissed off. I think I went into shock, unable to tell her just how angry I was. I still can't believe she brought Bella back here; did she really expect us both to be able to face each other, and instantly, everything would be okay?
I mean, I can't even imagine how Bella is feeling now, but I am a mixture of emotions; happy, dejected, scared … but mostly, I am ashamed; ashamed that I left her, ashamed that I choose drugs over her, and most of all, ashamed that I let other people have an bigger influence over me then she ever did. Their influences made me make choices that led to our destruction.
While I was in rehab, Garrett helped me realise how much of a fuck up my life had become. Now I can see how it must have looked to everyone in my life-how easy it was for me to turn my back on Bella, on my family but they will never truly understand how deeply rooted my drug addiction had become. Sometimes I sit and thank God, that Bella wasn't around to see me fall, hit rock bottom; it would have been bad enough for her to see me, dying for another fix-I would resort to anything, lie and steal to get my hands on some dope.
But for her to see how Tanya had me wrapped around her little finger, at her beck and call, it would have crushed her. Tanya had become the 'middle man' between me and Mike … she was my supplier; she'd bring the party to me whenever I wanted it. We would get high together, and she would come on to me. I would tell her whatever she wanted to hear, basically conning her into handing the shit to me on a silver platter. I wasn't interested in her nasty ass; I would have never gone there. She kept on bringing me a bigger, better high, a harder drug, every time in the hopes that I would get fucked-up enough to do the nasty with her. It was never about Tanya… it was all about the drugs, I was there for the high. I was so relieved when I came home from the hospital and she was…gone.
Chucking my phone on the seat next me, I threw the truck into reverse, and I headed home; at least I know Alice won't be there, which gives me time to call Garrett. Over two years of therapy has given me the tools so that I am able to recognise the times when I was in over my head and needed him to keep my ass from drowning. Driving home probably wasn't the best time to daydream, but I can't help but think back to when I started seeing Garrett as a friend, and not a massive pain in my ass sent to keep me from going home…I owed him a lot.
Garrett and I have not always seen eye to eye: not long after the doctors felt that it was finally safe to wake me up, Garrett was there; to say I was reluctant to speak to him would be an understatement. I didn't want him in my fucking face; I wasn't ready to step off the self-destruct train just yet. I will always remember waking up; the first person I saw was my mom, Esme. She was sitting at my side, grasping my hand, later I learned that she had been in the ICU the six weeks I was unconscious: through the seizures, the CAT scans, the consultations with the dietician and doctors to get my body infection free and once again functioning even a bit. I turned my head to her, and gave her a small smile; trying to say what I wanted to was hard; my voice was weak, and I couldn't seem to say what I wanted. I was confused; I didn't know where I was, or how I got there. My Mom just tearfully shook her head, leaned over, kissed me and then she stood…and walked out of the room.
To be honest, at the time I was pretty out of it; back then I didn't really get the meaning behind her actions...but now I do. She was accepting that she had done everything she could to save my life, and my family was turning my care over to an expert. That's when Garrett took over.
Two and a half years ago
"Morning Edward, I am Garrett. Your parents have asked for my help with you and your illness, but I need you to be on board as well. I can't help you if you don't want to help yourself." With that, he walked out of my hospital room, leaving me even more lost, more bewildered and alone than before.
It took ten days of intense physical and occupational therapy to be able to build up enough strength to sit up unaided; for God's sake, it took the best part of a week to regain the use of my vocal cords, just enough time for me to be able to tell Garrett, who had showed up every day to check my progress, to fuck off. Not once did he let down his assault on me-he was looking to get a rise out of me, for me to show him I still had some normal emotions left in my drug-warped brain.
"Edward, do you want me to tell you why your mother left you alone the other day?"
"Not…really… I want you… to fuck off… leave me alone, where are my goddamn pants?" I all but spat out.
"Edward, I will not be going anywhere, and neither will you, not in this state. You are not well, do you understand? You overdosed. It resulted in seizures and a medically induced coma to save your life. Edward… You almost died. Your mom only stayed to make sure you were going to be okay physically. She won't be back; no one will be here, not until you decided to work with us and not fight against us. If you decide to leave, they will not be there to aid you; they are not going to help you kill yourself."
This man was standing in front of me, telling me that my family had left and that he was going to help me. I wasn't interested….coke, meth, and smack….now that interested me, but this fucktard in front of me wouldn't drop it. He was talking like we had met before, but I didn't know him. I actually zoned out, he didn't have anything to offer that interested me, unless he could get me hooked up with some grade 'A' dope. Hmm…he's a doctor; he can get the good shit…
"Edward, I know you're thinking about drugs, it's what you've become; it's always about where you are going to get your next fix. I bet you're wondering how you are still able to sit here, when normally you would be climbing the walls if you had gone six weeks without scoring."
This man was driving me insane with his pointless questions that I wasn't going to answer… he left me after a while saying he would back tomorrow….Lucky me.
And come back he did, day after day. I would sit on my bed and he would sit in the single arm-chair next to me, and he would talk about anything and everything; from the weather, to why I felt the need to overdose. My response varied from silence to profanity filled tirades, depending on how badly my body and mind was craving my salvation, my drugs. After several days of just sitting in silence, I actually began to think he was losing interest in me. Until one morning, he got my attention… he found my weak spot. He mentioned Bella…how the fuck did he know about her?
"Edward, I wasn't going to ask you about her, but who is Bella to you?"
The sound of her name, made me recoil back into the bed. My throat and eyes started to itch, I was about to break down; I tried so hard to stop myself from being a pussy, but I crumble right there in front of this stranger. Just at the sound of her name, pain like nothing I had felt before hit me in my chest, my heart… and the last few memories of THAT day had rushed back to me.
…Meeting Mike on the outskirts of town, shaking, craving the numbness that I was addicted to.
…Mike giving me the only dope he had, China White, and his best works…
…Tying off… shooting up, knowing I used more than he told me to.
…The best fucking feeling, I was back with my girl, we were happy, we were surrounded by white…
…Blackness.
…Chief Swan dragging me out of the car and…
Oh shit… I was fucking OD'ing. I was trying to kill myself.
I had lived a lie for the last two years, if not longer; a constant cycle of drugs and depression and pain, but which came first? Had I been slowly trying to commit suicide?
I vaguely registered Garrett clapping his hands together, asking me loudly, "So, are you ready for my help?" I guess this was his plan all along; wear me down and get me to break. Congrats you fucker… it worked.
I had to be sedated because I couldn't stop crying that day. After that session, I started listening to Garrett, and he made me realise that my drug use was something that started off as an experiment, a way to bring some excitement to Forks and in the end was my downfall, my way of shutting the world out. After Charlie had busted me at that party, instead of standing up and being a man, I chose the easy way out: drugs became my easy way out. As a result, I lost the one thing that was good about me, about my life, so there was no reason to stop on the path I had started to head down.
Bella was gone, and it was my fault. I should have let Charlie charge me; then maybe Bella and my family would have stood by me and made me get help before it came to this or maybe she would have made the decision to leave me, but I will never know; what if? Maybe I wouldn't have ended up a junkie, half-dead in the back of an ambulance, and now not even able to get out of bed in the morning, destroyed by addiction and depression. I had done all of this to myself, and I had to accept that the Edward from before was no more.
Things started getting easier. The physical and mental withdrawal from the drugs was intense; Garrett tried to talk me through each stage, but nothing prepared me for the reality. It was about two weeks after I meet him he explained that I had been sedated for six weeks, to let my body recover from the amount of damage I had done through drug use and neglect. Along with the sedation I was given medication to limit the withdrawal symptoms until I had fully woken up. The doctors wanted my body to recover from the neglect I had put my body through before they dealt with my drug addiction and state of mind.
Garrett had reassured me it would get better, but three days after they weaned me off the medication my symptoms were unbearable. I could deal with the physical things; the nausea, the sweating, scratching my skin raw, and even the palpitations but my emotional state was difficult. I became even more irrational, losing it with everyone; even more dangerous, I began to feel even more depressed, the isolation was starting to get to me and all I craved was the numbness that drugs had brought to me. I just wanted… to be gone.
I would see the same handful of people each day, Garrett being with me on and off throughout it all…just talking. Some days I would sit and just look at photos of my family, other days I would lay in bed and talk to myself, telling myself how pathetic I was, or cry to Bella, who visited in my hallucinations; she told me how I had thrown away my life and lost… everyone.
After what felt like years, but in reality was around four weeks, the withdrawal symptoms I had felt started to subside, and I was moved to a different room at the hospital. It was plain, with only a bed and a chair, and a restroom with no door but finally, there was no lock…I was allowed out of my room.
The nurses would let me to go into the gardens. I would go outside at night after I had finished my sessions with Garret and all the many other doctors and shrinks that were there to help me. I would just sit for hours, trying to leave was pointless, there were people everywhere, watching you. I would just sit and watch the stars, talking to the sky…Bella never far from my thoughts. The brightest star in the sky always caught my attention... it was her. I was determined to get better to prove to her that I could.
Garrett worried that my newfound need to get better was all for the wrong reasons; he told me I needed to get better for ME, not for Bella, and that I would never truly be happy and healthy or stay clean, unless I did it for me. He told me that my mental health would be a life-long battle. I didn't believe his diagnosis of severe chronic depression with anxiety disorder until I had been on a high dose anti-depressant for several weeks, then the constant need for numbness, the sense of hopelessness that I had lived with for years, was muted, it became almost bearable.
I had been in therapy at the Rehab Centre for three months when Garrett asked me if there was something I would like to do for the day; maybe go out for a couple of hours. I jumped at the chance; I had planned to ask Garrett if he would help me get a new tattoo. Months of sitting, talking to the stars was helping, when I first got out of detox I would still hallucinate, I thought I could actually see Bella's face when I looked to the skies, so when I started getting better, I just pretended she was up there…it would calm me. She was my shining star, my True North.
So I told him, "Garrett, I want a new tattoo… will you take me?"
"I don't know Edward, the pain… any added stress might not be good for you at this point."
"G… you worry too much…Please; I need this…this will help," I practically begged Garrett.
"Let me make some calls and I will let you know…. I can't promise anything, just so you know."
Agreeing to give him some time was the least I could do; he was my guide in this fucked up journey of mine. It had taken a while for me to come around, but I had finally realized that Garrett was there to help me. This wasn't over yet, but it was a start, and Garrett's never-ending questions and advice had helped me get through the first stages of withdrawal, thus gaining my trust. And now, I was well into the Post-Acute Withdrawal stage, which according to Garrett could last anywhere up to two years. He always repeated himself: saying there was no rush; I could exhaust myself and relapse if I didn't take it slow.
Therefore, I had been mildly surprised when two weeks later, after a rather nasty tasting lunch... that's what I should have asked for… a pizza!-a harried looking head therapist slammed into my room.
"Edward… get your coat, we're out of here!" Garrett shouted as he turned to head back down the corridor. Thank god; I get to see the outside world, it's been months!
Once in his car, Garrett told me the details of my trip; "I managed to get in touch with a pal of mine who is a tattooist, and he owes me a big-ass favour, which I have just called in for you. What did you want to get?
Before Garrett had finished his sentence I had pulled out the piece of paper from my pocket. It was a drawing of a two toned grey nautical star that was wrapped with blue and green ribbons; to anybody else it would have looked like a very random sketch, but to me… and to Garrett, who I had discussed it with-it represented the night skies, which had become my haven; my calm in this forever changing storm and the ribbon was there holding it all together…Bella. The colour was important, too; one Bella's favourite, the other my Mothers, combined and representing the two most important people in my life. How I longed to see both of them, to tell them I was so fucking sorry for doing this. Of course, I had spoken to my family on the phone, but I just couldn't get across how sorry I really was.
"Edward… hello; where did you go?" Garrett was used to my mental lapses…he told me it was fine, something my mind needed to do when my thoughts got to be too much.
I lapsed a lot-Garrett often interrupted my thoughts. "Sorry G…I was just thinking about home."
"They will come see you soon, you know. I spoke to your dad yesterday, and they were thinking in a couple of weeks; I wanted to make sure you were ready, it's going to be a massive strain on you mental health, but something that I think you are ready for." Garrett's comment both surprised me and thrilled me…it was another step towards independence.
I just nodded my head towards Garrett, trying to act like this news didn't excite me and worry me; he might re-think his decision if he knew how it affected me. Pulling up outside the tattoo shop, I noticed it was empty; closed for just me and Garrett. He really had called in a big favour, just for me.
We spent the next two hours inside his friend Billy's tattoo shop. As he worked the ink permanently into the skin of my wrist, Garrett took the time to speak to me about how I was feeling in public, how I felt about being in the company of a stranger and discussing my issues in front of him; it was annoying as fuck at first, but I finally realized that Billy wasn't there to judge me, he was there to give me some new ink…my new tattoo.
After thanking Billy and admiring the work he had done, we headed to a quiet pizza place nearby, where Garrett told me about a place north of Seattle; a sort of retreat, where we could do intensive work on my mental health. My drug detox and recovery was coming to an end, but I had accepted that full recovery was still a ways off. Because I was coping well with the detox, and was no longer suicidal and in an acute depressive state, he felt it was time to discuss my other mental health issues, and learn how to deal with my problems in a healthier way.
"You mean my inability to deal with reality, to be normal, to not hurt everyone around me?" I joked.
Garrett rolled his eyes before responding in a half-heart attempt at jest. "Edward, you and me both know there is more to this than just not being able to deal with your new reality… you need to work on getting back into a stable, positive state of mind, then you can move forward…don't forget, I know what you think of yourself. You are no longer those things that you were when you were using; for one, you are a recovering drug addict and a person fighting a chemical imbalance. You are most defiantly not a monster; you are already beating this, but like I always say, this has to be about you… and not just you trying to get Bella back."
I will always be indebted to Garrett, he gave me hope; he helped me learn to navigate this new world that I found myself a part of. He says it is all part of his job, but it's he goes above and beyond that; he is always there when I need him; even now, if it's the middle of the night and I need him, he will still answer the phone.
Turning into my driveway, I realise I must have driven home on instinct…shit, I drifted off to La La Land , I think to myself as I kill the engine on my truck. My subconscious is probably trying to erase this whole fucked-up morning; Alice started this mess by bringing Bella back to Forks in some misguided attempt to 'fix' me, then seeing Bella…well, that actually just made my day, my year-that was, until she gave me a taste of my own medicine. Stop beating yourself up, what's done is done…have you not learned by now to stop living in the past? Nope, guess not, dumbass…
Stepping out of the trucks cab, I take the steps two at a time running up to my front door. I shouldn't have got so lost in the past when I was driving, because now my stress levels are through the fucking roof, and none of Garrett's advice and stress fighting tricks are helping me one bit. I need to get inside and take some medication… a low dose Xanax will have to do the trick. I am prescribed them for occasions just like this, when nothing else will work and the result will be me in the ER under sedation, or passed out from hyperventilating - I know it is a quick fix, and I will need to speak to Garrett before the day is out, but medication will calm me enough to be able to do just that.
By the time I unlock the door and head inside to the kitchen, my hands are shaking badly; I am just about unable to take the cap off the top of the bottle. Swallowing the pill dry, I rip the top off of the bag of cat food, and pouring a big portion in Mallow's bowl. I sink down on the sofa, where I try to get hold of myself, but the panic that I have somehow managed to hold off, when I was out in public has hit me, full force, and I am a shaking, sobbing mess.
Mal comes to comfort me several minutes later… he is always able to tell when I am having a panic attack, and now with a full belly, he curls up to me as closely as he can, his hypnotic purr somewhat taking my mind off of my racing heart. Twenty minutes are all it will take for the magic pill to work, in the meantime, I have to remember what I have learned…just calm down. Just breathe.
Counting my pulse stopped working a while ago; seeing Bella again has really freaked me out. Like I said before, I always thought seeing Bella again would be down to me, and that I would have time to prepare myself, prepare the perfect things to say. I don't handle surprises well anymore; my routine is the only thing that gets me through the day. This didn't happen the way I planned… fuck. Maybe if I tried to…my hands are shaking too bad to draw… Shit, I don't know what to do, but I know who will.
Reaching over the sofa, I grab my phone that I tossed on the table as I came in the front door; this is going to be an odd phone call, one that Garrett isn't expecting. Finding his name in my address book is a normally easy task, but today, everything is hard work.
"Afternoon Edward…how are you doing today?" is Garrett's predictable answer.
"Shit…Garrett, you wouldn't believe it if I told you… Bella's back." My shaking has accelerated to the point that I almost can't hold the phone. Saying it out loud seems to make it real… and scary as hell.
"She wha…I mean…I urmm… Okay Edward, please calm down, I can hear your voice shaking. It's going to be fine, you are due a home visit anyway; give me half an hour and I will be there. Take an anxiety med and just try to breathe… Edward… it is going to be okay."
I hang up the call without saying a word. Garrett knows not to worry too much-he taught me well, taught me not stress about things I can't control, but he was never able to help me manage my guilt over what I did to Bella. Easing Mallow, who is fast asleep and oblivious to anything going on around him, gently off my lap and onto a cushion, I stumble into my bedroom…I always feel at ease in here, I think to myself as I walk over to the corner that houses all my family pictures.
"Sorry Mom," I say out loud.
I will forever be apologizing to her, it seems. And not just her: my hand skims the edge of 'our' box; I haven't opened it in months, and know better than to open it now, when I am so upset…placing both my hands on the lid, I sigh; it opens half an inch, when the doorbell rings. Letting the lid drop closed again…maybe tomorrow, I think to myself, I rush to let Garrett in.
As I open the door, I am greeted by a very calm looking Garrett, who merely pushes passed me, takes a seat in my red arm-chair and points to the sofa and barks out…
"Just sit your ass down, Edward! You've got some serious issues. Let's talk it out before it poisons your mind."
All the Xanax in the world won't be enough to keep me from losing my shit. But Garrett was here to help… so with a deep sigh, I began to talk.
Thank you.
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