Broken (7 page)

My stomach began to growl, and I
realized I hadn’t eaten in almost twenty-four hours.

“
Can we finish this
downstairs at Danny’s? I’m starving.”

Nicole looked at me, her eyes scanning
my body up and down. “Yes, we can but you better get your ass in
the shower first because you look like shit.”

After a long hot shower, I was feeling
better. I threw some comfortable sweats on and we headed
downstairs. Danny, who was standing behind the bar, gave me a
smile. “How was your night last night, Kid?” He laughed.

“
Ha, ha, ha, very funny,
Danny,” I said sarcastically with a fake smile on my
face.

Nicole and I grabbed the booth in the
corner. We each took a menu and looked it over. There was an
awkward silence between us.

“
Alright, you’re right,” I
said with a long sigh. “I feel like I am drowning.” I began to tear
up. “When I saw Garrett yesterday it felt like I’d gotten punched
in the stomach. All those feelings from four years ago came rushing
back.”

Nicole got up and came around to my
side of the booth and slid in beside me. She put her arm around me.
“You’re not going to like what I have to say. I think you should
talk to someone.”

“
I am talking to someone.
I am talking to you.” I knew full well what she meant by "talking
to someone."

“
Leila, I’m serious. I
think you need therapy. You said yourself you feel like you are
drowning. How much longer do you think you can keep going this way?
I’m beginning to think you’re a functioning sex addict and
alcoholic.” She said this with such sorrow in her eyes.

“
Oh please!” I said
laughingly. I tried to laugh it off but deep down inside, I was
beginning to think the same exact thing.

“
Have you talked to your
mom lately? I know she’s worried about you. She’s texted me a dozen
times this week.”

I shook my head. “I know she’s been
calling like crazy. I just can’t deal with her right now. She wants
too much from me. Sometimes I feel like she is smothering
me.”

While we ate our lunch, I avoided
talking anymore about last night. I brought up the new guy she had
met at work. She told me his name was Michael, and he was a
supervisor in one of the departments in her office. I could tell
she was smitten with the way she lit up when she spoke about him.
We must have been talking for a good hour when she glanced down at
her watch. “Shit. I got to go. Promise me you will think about
talking to someone. You have a whole lot of issues to work
out.”

I rolled my eyes at her jumping up and
giving her a big hug. “Thank you for always putting up with my
shit.”

Giving me a bear hug back she said,
“Well someone needs to because you are doing a horrible job on your
own.” She released her grip. “I will call you tonight.” As she was
walking away she spun around pointing her finger at me. “I am not
going to let this therapy thing go.”

I nodded my head playing
along with her. I figured if I didn’t fight her she would just let
it go. As I headed back to my apartment the words
functioning sex addict and alcoholic
replayed in my head like a skipping record. Had I
let myself get that bad? “Fuck.” I said aloud as I ran my hands
through my hair. I walked through my door and Molly was waiting for
me. “Hey Molly girl, did you miss me?” I smiled at her. Thoughts of
my conversation with Nicole ran through my head once again. “Pfff,
therapy,” I scoffed.

I flipped the light switch on in my
room. All I wanted to do was crawl back into my bed and end this
day. The last twenty-four hours had been emotionally draining. As
my eyes scanned my room looking for my robe, I realized I had never
cleaned off my bed. “Ugh.” My bed was still covered with all of my
memories that haunted me. I began to pick up the pictures and put
them back in their box while I looked quickly at some of
them.

Some, I would stare at and actually
touch Garrett’s face. We looked so happy. How had we gotten to this
place? A tear every now and then would roll down my cheek. After
everything was back in the box, I decided to put the box in the
back of my closet instead of underneath my bed. I felt this would
tempt me less. I would actually have to make an effort to retrieve
the box.

I crawled under the covers
lying flat on my back in the darkness.
Christ, I really have made a mess of my life.
The word therapy was ringing in my ears. I
flipped over on my side angrily.
I don’t
need therapy
.

Chapter 6

I had a restless night's
sleep, tossing, turning and dreaming about the last four years, all
the men, parties, booze and debauchery that had occurred. I woke to
an unsettling feeling in my stomach. I got up to use the bathroom
as I passed by the mirror I saw my reflection out of the corner of
my eye. Stopping at the mirror I stared at myself. I looked almost
unrecognizable from the girl in those pictures. I was much thinner.
My cheeks had a sunken appearance. Funny I had never noticed
before. Of course, there were dark purplish circles under my eyes.
I had almost become accustomed to them.
Isn’t that why they made concealer make-up?
With the reality of my looks setting in, my
stomach did a somersault. I quickly ran from the bathroom and into
the kitchen. I poured a large glass of Diet Coke to settle my
stomach. I stood at the kitchen counter for a few minutes staring
off into space.

My cell phone began to ring and
brought me back. I quickly walked back into my bedroom and picked
up the phone. “Hi, Mom.”

“
Well, she finally answers
her phone,” the tone in her voice told me she was pissed at me. I
promised her when I left for college, I would call her every other
day to check in with her.

I immediately blurted out, “I’m sorry
I haven’t called, I had a wedding Saturday night and I slept most
of the day yesterday.” I was trying to smooth things over with her.
My mother really did love to blow things out of proportion,
especially when it came to me. She once again reminded me of my
promise I had made to her when I left for college.

“
Yes, I know, every other
day. Mom, I’m fine.” I was getting aggravated.

I understand she’s my mother and she
worries, but I’m a grown woman for Pete’s sake. There was no reason
for me to have to report in to her every other day. Quickly trying
to change the subject I said, “Hey, you want to have lunch today?
If you give me about an hour to get ready, I will meet you in the
parking lot.”

“
Sure Honey, I would love
to meet you for lunch, we can further this discussion in person.” I
could almost picture my mother’s face as she said these words to
me.

“
I will see you in an
hour, Mother.” I quickly hung up the phone and jumped into the
shower.

I was ready and waiting when my mother
finally arrived to pick me up. My mother was one of those people
who were always late. She pulled up in her sporty black Honda
Prelude. Even though the car was older, it was practically in mint
condition. She loved it, and it was the perfect size for her. She
stood only four feet eleven and had dark brown hair. She was very
young looking for her age, and we often got asked if we were
sisters. Of course, my mother ate that up. It used to bother me
when I was younger, but now I just laugh and play along.

As I climbed into her car, she gave me
a once over. “Hey Honey. Yikes, you look like hell.”

I shook my head. “Thanks, Mom. It’s
great to see you too,” I said sarcastically.

She reached her hand over to me and
rubbed my arm. “Oh, honey. I was only joking. Is everything
ok?”

Taking a deep breath I replied, “No,
not really." My voice was shaking.

As we drove to our favorite Chinese
restaurant, I explained to my mom I ran into Garrett at the
wedding. I could tell by the look on her face she was less than
thrilled about the news. I told her he was there with a date and
things didn’t end very well between us. I ensured her nothing was
going to happen with him and me. A look of happiness appeared on
her face as she tried to hide her smile.

As my mother began giving me almost
the identical lecture that Nicole had earlier, I abruptly stopped
her. “Mom, please spare me the lecture, I’ve already had this
conversation with Nicole.”

“By the looks of you, I think you need
to hear this twice. I haven’t seen you look this bad since you and
Garrett broke-up.” Her voice was beginning to rise.

“Ugh, Mom. Please!” I said throwing my
head back towards the head rest. “You don’t think I know this. .
.”

“Leila, I spoke to Nicole this
morning. She told me she thinks you need therapy. I am not sure
exactly what is going on with you, but looking at you right now and
the state that you are in, I have to say I agree with
her.”

We pulled into the parking lot of the
restaurant, and I nearly jumped out of the moving car. I was
furious. I couldn’t believe Nicole had gone behind my back and
spoken to my mother. I ran into the restaurant and headed straight
for the bathroom trying to hide the tears that were running down my
cheeks. I felt so betrayed. I shut myself in one of the stalls and
quietly cried. I heard the door open and shut quietly.
“Leila?”

“Mom. . . I can’t do this with you
right now.” I felt defeated, there was no fight left in
me.

“Please come out. I’m sorry. I didn’t
mean to upset you. I’m worried about you and I don’t want to see
you go down that dark road again. It killed me to see you like that
. . . Like this. What worries me is . . . You haven’t seen or heard
from him in all this time and now within days of being in contact
with him, I can see you slipping back to that state of
depression.”

I could see her feet under the stall
door, and her body was leaning up against the door. I slowly
climbed off the top of the toilet tank and unlocked the door. My
mother was standing there with such a concerned look on her face.
It was almost frightening.

She ran her hands gently through my
hair. “Oh, Baby. I only want what is best for you. Seeing you like
this again is really scaring me.” It looked as if she was going to
start to cry, which made me feel even worse.

“
Mom, I am ok really. . .
I have given some thought to the whole therapy thing. I am going to
look into it.” I actually hadn’t given any thought to therapy until
just now, when I saw the worried look in my mother’s
eyes.

She let out a huge sigh of relief.
“Really? You promise? I can go with you if you want” she said
eagerly.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Ummm .
. . No, I really don’t think you want to hear what I have to say to
a therapist.”

She looked back at me and smiled.
“You’re probably right.”

I did a quick once over in the mirror
to make sure I didn’t look too horrible and we headed out to the
dining room of the restaurant. We made mostly small talk during
lunch. I tried to avoid the topic of Garrett or therapy. I told her
about the upcoming weddings I was going to be photographing. We
discussed how beautiful they were going to be with the fall
foliage. My mother was my biggest fan when it came to my
photography. When her friends came over to the house she would
immediately pull up the website and show off my work. It made me
warm and fuzzy inside to know she was proud of me.

After we finished lunch, she dropped
me off back at my apartment. I promised her I would look for a
therapist. We said our goodbyes and I headed up to my apartment.
Molly was waiting for me at the door when I walked through. She was
such a loyal friend. “Come on Moll. . . Grandma says I need
therapy.” She looked up at me and followed me into my
bedroom.

I found a phone book in my nightstand.
I had no idea how old it was or where it came from. I think it may
have come with the apartment. As Molly and I lay on my bed, I
searched for therapists in the yellow pages. I had no clue what I
was looking for. Did I need a therapist or a shrink? What was the
difference? As I flipped through the pages, I found an ad of a very
nice looking professional licensed social worker named Helen Read.
Her ad seemed very legitimate and her specialties were families,
teens, couples, and troubled youth. “Fits me to a tee,” I said to
Molly. She looked at me purring and then closed her
eyes.

I nervously picked up the phone and
dialed the number. Within two rings a bubbly woman with an
Australian accent answered the phone. I was caught off guard by the
accent, definitely not what I was expecting. “Ahh. . Hi. . . I was
looking to speak with Ms. Read,” I stammered.

“
This is Ms. Read. How can
I help you?” She responded politely.

“
My name is Leila and I
was looking to see if you were taking new patients and if you were
if I could schedule an appointment,” I asked with my voice almost
cracking.

“
Yes, I am taking new
patients and I would love to schedule you an appointment.” Her
accent made her sound so regal.

After making my initial appointment
for next Wednesday, I hung the phone up and let out a huge sigh of
relief. The knots in my stomach finally began to loosen up a bit. I
told myself I was taking a step in the right direction, and I was
happy with my decision to call her. I laid my head down on the
pillow and fell asleep.