lover of mine // mgc

check on those you love

tw // mentions of depression, anxiety, suicide, and death are included in this chapter. please skip if those are triggering to you.

i rolled over in bed and stared at the ceiling. it's been two weeks since everyone left. two weeks of sadness. and tears. and just not wanting to get out of bed. i fucking hate it here. it's so lonely. michael's calls have become more and more seldom. it's always a quick "hi, how's luna, okay gotta go.". i know this sounds selfish, but he never asks about me anymore. it's like he doesn't care.

i feel like i'm slipping farther and farther away from myself. it feels like i haven't been myself in the last two weeks. i've been doing research and i think i might have postpartum depression. i'm not really sure. i don't like to self-diagnose. i know i've had really bad anxiety and depression as a teen. could it be resurfacing now that luna is here? i don't know.

i heard luna start to cry and looked over at her bassinet. as i sat up and picked her up, i felt my heart sink to my stomach. i love her. i love her so much. but it's like the love is being clouded by this depression. i would never purposely hurt her but it's not like my brain hasn't tried to get me to.

don't feed her. no. i can't do that.

don't change her. she needs a change. i can't neglect her.

just ignore her cries. no. i love her. she needs to be held.

it hurts that i think that way. it's not like i want to. i love her so much. i want to go back to feeling that love again. when i used to look at her, all i felt was love. now i feel guilt. guilt that i'm not a good enough mum. guilt that my brain wants me to hurt her. guilt that her dad isn't here to be with her. all i feel i guilt.

after i finished rocking luna back to sleep, i placed her back in her bassinet, crawled into bed, and pulled the blankets over my head. i don't eat anymore. i haven't showered or even brushed my hair in weeks. i'm gross, i know. but i can't pull myself out of bed to do it.

i heard my phone ring on the bedside table. i reached my hand from under the blanket and picked it up, michael's name lit up across my phone. i hit the decline button before putting it back down on the table. i don't want him to see me like this. he can't see me like this. what if he doesn't love me after seeing me like this?

but again, my phone rang with his name lit up across it. i haven't talked to him in days. he's probably getting worried. to be fair, i haven't talked to anyone in days. not even bee. i don't want anyone to see me like this. but, i give in anyway and answer his call.

"alex! where have you been?"

michael said as i tossed the phone on the bed just far enough so he couldn't see me. as soon as i heard his voice, i broke down into tears. it hurts. i don't wanna be like this. but how do i escape it?

"please talk to me."

michael said. i propped the phone up so michael could see me. or what's left of me i guess. my greasy hair, his shirt that i've been wearing for days, the piles of trash that set next to me on the nightstand...this is what life has become.

"what is wrong?"

michael asked me.

"everything. i can't do this michael."

i sobbed into my hands.

"yes you can. you're the best mum."

"no. i'm not. the best mum's brain wouldn't be telling her to hurt herself and her child. the best mum would be cleaning the house instead of sobbing in bed. and the best mum would be able to feel love instead of guilt for her child."

i said. for once in his life, michael was speechless.

"please come home. i don't wanna hurt anyone but i'm scared i might."

i sobbed.

"baby...i wish i could. they won't let me."

michael said. that's when my sadness turned to anger. oh, that's another thing. mood swings are now more apparent than ever.

"of course! work will always be more important than us. it doesn't matter if we're dead on the side of the road, you would still be on fucking tour!"

i yelled at my phone.

"you know i have no control over this. i think you need to get some help, alex."

"and how would you like me to do that when i'm here taking care of luna by myself? who's going to watch her? because everybody fucking left me to go travel around the world!"

"it's not our fault we have to work. someone has to work in our house."

michael said, clearly getting agitiated.

"oh, so now i'm a freeloader?"

"that's now what i'm saying-"

"i honestly don't care about what you're saying anymore. maybe i should go home to australia. maybe i should have never moved here."

"don't do anything irrational. we can talk about this when i'm home."

"so i'm suppose to just sit around here and feel like until you come home? i can't fucking stand feeling like this michael. i am terrified of myself and what i could do to luna. please just fucking come home."

i said as tears started to pour down my face again.

"you know i would if i could-"

michael's voice was cut off after i hung up. i can't listen to him say that for the billionth time. i need him. he should be able to make time for me. for luna. for our safety. but he doesn't. and that's what angers me most. i threw my phone to the other side of the bed before plopping down on the bed. i looked over at luna, who surprisingly slept through that.

"i don't know what we're gonna do little one."

i sniffled as i ran my finger over her cheek. i love her. i love her more than life myself. but there's a dark cloud over my brain that tries to make me snap. i try so hard to control it. i'm trying so hard to fend it off. but i don't know how much more i can take.