Page 6 of Be Your Somebody
I reach out and touch the cold ceramic urn in an attempt to be close to them. “Oh, Mom and Dad, what do I do? Did I make the right decision with Cas?” I know I won’t get a response, but I ask regardless. When I’m met with the expected silence, I do the next best thing and call my bestie, Brianna. My parents’ struggled for years to conceive me. When they finally had me, that was it for them. I used to ask for a sibling every day when I was around six-years-old. Eventually, it got to a point that my parents had to sit me down and explain why that wasn’t in the cards for them. I was devastated. I’ve learned through therapy that it plays into why I have a hard time letting my guard down with people. It’s probably why I all but tackled Cas to the ground, telling him we would be friends. Something inside me needed whatever was inside him.
So Brianna is the closest thing I have to a sister. We have been thick as thieves ever since sophomore year of college when we literally ran into each other in the hallway. We were both on our way to class, but never made it because we laughed so hard. Bri’s loud, eccentric personality compliments my quiet, timid nature. She’s the sister I always wanted, but never thought I’d have, let alone deserved.
The phone rings twice before I hear Bri’s peppy voice. “Hey, girl, what’s up?”
“Bri, I need a distraction. Let’s do something.”
“Ya know I’m all for distractions, but why do we need one?”
“Cas—" Was all I was able to get out before Bri cuts me off.
“Got it. I’m on my way. I’ll pick up cookie dough ice cream, your favorite sparkling water, and some crazy face masks. Give me fifteen minutes,” Bri says before hanging up.
True to her promise, Bri barges in fifteen minutes later, arms full of reusable grocery bags. I go to help her unload everything so I can give her a proper hug. The second my arms wrap around her body, all the tension drains from mine and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Thank you for coming.” My voice cracks.
“Of course, Aves. I got you, always.” She squeezes me for a few seconds before letting go.
Bri sets up everything on the coffee table in the living room while I search for two spoons for our ice cream. When I reenter the living room, Bri is cuddling under a fuzzy blanket with a panda sheet mask on her face. I scramble toward the couch and crawl under the blanket alongside Bri.
“Here, put this on before we eat our ice cream.” In Bri’s hand is a crazy, sloth-looking sheet mask and I can’t help but chuckle. She would pick the sloth for me. We have been doing silly sheet masks since our college days. It makes my heart all warm and fuzzy. I apply the gooey, cold mask to my face before turning toward my best friend to make a silly face. Well, an even sillier face because I’m already wearing a sloth-face mask.
“Do you want to talk about it or do you need a moment to process it?” Bri asks.
“Nope, I’m good. But, I think I just need to vent it out.” Bri nods in understanding before I share everything that happened this morning. She reaches over to squeeze my hand, not letting go until I do. She’s always been good at silent comfort. Besides Cas, Bri is the only other person who I felt an instant connection with.
I don’t think I took much of a breath while sharing everything, because I felt out of breath when I finished speaking.
“So yeah, that’s been my morning. You know me, overthinking is my specialty. I just feel like I—" Bri’s palm on my knee has me stopping mid-sentence.
“Avery, that was a lot that happened this morning. Give yourself some time to let it marinate before you add any more ingredients to the pot. Remember what you learned in therapy. Use those challenging skills, girl. And if you can’t, then I got you. So take whatever you were about to say and reword it inside your head. Because I know for damn sure you are not about to be mean to my best friend.”
I lock that suggestion away for later, knowing full well she’s right. Instead, I focus on laughing, reminiscing on our college days, and taking silly photos for my Instagram. While there’s nothing I want more than to have the life we had in my dream, I know I can’t throw away the work I’ve done on myself over the years.
Chapter 5
Cassidy
Journey to healing
Rehabroundhousekickedmyass. We had to adhere to a strict schedule of group and individual therapies where we would discuss why we were there and how to avoid returning. My least favorite part of therapy was talking about my feelings, seeing as how historically that was always met with a fist to the face. It was always ‘you have nothing to cry about’or ‘I’ll give you a reason to cry’,followed by the smacking sound of a fist meeting flesh.
My body always braced for the blow that never came. Still, I spent a lot of time fighting and challenging the therapist. What wouldsharing my feelings do? No matter how much I challenged my group leaders, they’d always push back. Listening to others share their stories gave me the courage I needed. Each time I talked during group therapy, my chest became less tight. For the first time, I felt free.
I’m gathering everything into my suitcase when I hear a knock on my door. “Come in.”
I am interrupted mid-packing to see my therapist, Jason, standing in the doorway. He stands a few inches shorter than me with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes. He’s wearing his usual uniform: a knee-length cardigan over a white t-shirt and dark-wash jeans. He might look friendly on the outside, but he’s a no-bullshit guy underneath it all. We didn’t click at the beginning of our sessions, with me challenging his authority more often than not. As time went on, I began to lower my defenses and identified that he wasn'tactuallya threat. Slowly, I stopped challenging his every move and began to understand and appreciate his methods. Honestly, he gave me the kick in the ass I deserved.
“It's discharge day. You’ve come a long way in the three months since you've been here. How are we feeling?” he asks.
“I feel good, a lot stronger than before. I feel like I've learned a lot about myself. Plus, I miss sleeping in my own bed. And it's all thanks to some hard-ass counselor who liked putting me in my place. I feel like I finally have a good head on my shoulders.”
“I remember a bullheaded know-it-all who tried to manipulate me into seeing things his way. It's been an absolute pleasure to watch you let go of your stubbornness and began to accept other people’s perspectives. That's not an easy feat.” I find myself laughing at that, but my smile immediately falls when I see the look on his face.
“What?” My body tenses and it feels like a million pine needles are poking me.
“How are you feeling about seeing Avery again?” he asks.
