Borderline Girl

three

"Jake?" the smaller me said, standing up from the ground, she began to stumble as she got up. Her vision was blurry, her head felt fuzzy, I remembered that feeling all too well.

I watched as the tears began falling down the face of an eight year old me, the gunshot deafened my ears as I covered them and fell to the ground.

I woke up in a cold sweat, the dream was becoming more and more vivid, my ears were still ringing, my head was still pounding. I got up and walked down to the kitchen to get a glass of water, back at where the whole scene had happened. I felt all of the emotions from both the dream and my memory reappearing as I broke down crying on the kitchen tiles, holding my knees in the same spot my brother had gotten murdered.

I was only eight, it's not fair. I was only eight, it's not fair.

I continued to repeat the same sentence in my head over and over until my tear ducts felt dry, my eyes began to droop and I fell asleep.

...

"Angel, honey? Why are you in the kitchen?" Mum asked me as she woke me up, worry clear on her face.

I looked around, not remembering how I had gotten there, I tried to but I couldn't even get a dream out of it. My mind was blank with no memory of what had led me there the night before. 

"I-uh- I guess I was just hot?" I suggested, shrugging my shoulders, hopefully she believed me considering it was Summer.

She gave me a suspicious look but got up from her crouching position and began to walk around the kitchen preparing to make breakfast.

"Go get yourself cleaned up, we have an appointment with your psychologist today, she wanted us to come in for whatever reason," she said, pulling the eggs out of the refrigerator.

"Ok,' I simply said before getting up from my seemingly pathetic position on the ground, I winced as I walked up the stairs, sleeping on the tiled floor wasn't necessarily the posture-pedic mattress I had upstairs. My spine felt all twisted and worn out, as if I had been hunched over a computer for hours.

I quickly went into my room and picked a simple white long sleeved shirt and black jeans then went into my shower. Turning the water as hot as my body could manage, I stepped out of my clothes and into the shower closing my eyes as the warmth engulfed me, definitely beat a cold floor. It may have been Summer but it wasn't the warmest. 

Mum knocked on the bathroom door to signal me to hurry up, so I finished rinsing the conditioner out of my hair and stepped out of the shower, wrapping myself in a blue fuzzy towel. I then quickly blow dried my hair and straightened it, then applied mascara. I wasn't in too much of a makeup mood.

After eating the one egg I was allowed to have, we left the house, arriving at the psychologists office way too soon.

I walked up to the reception desk, "Angel Pierce for Dr Sophie."

The lady nodded at me and dialed a number informing her I was there, "Angel?" the receptionist called out to me.

I got up from my seat and walked over, "Yeah?"

"She wants both you and your mother today."

I nodded, pulling my phone out to text her;

Me: Hey mum they want you in today too.

Mum: What the hell for? They've got you, it's not fair I have to get tortured too.

Me: Just be nice please.

Mum: Can't. Salon. Phone's going off now.

I sighed and put my phone away, "She can't make it."

The receptionist nodded and gestured for me to take a seat in the waiting room once again.

Dr. Sophie opened the door that led through to her office, asking me to come in, I obliged, walking behind her to her office.

"So where's mum today?" She asked.

"She actually just got called into work," I lied, if I told her the truth I would be majorly embarrassed. Having my own psychologist know that my mother was too busy at the salon to care about her daughters mental health would make me want to crawl into a hole. Dr. Sophie knew enough about me, she didn't need to know the mummy issues.

She nodded, I couldn't tell if she knew I was lying or not but she didn't question it, "Please take a seat, Angel," she said and I did as told, "The reason I wanted both you and your mum here today is because I went over the test you took just yesterday and I have a diagnosis."

I wriggled in my seat, nervous for the result, this was the thing I had been waiting for the entirety of my sessions to get, but I couldn't help but ask, "From that one conversation we had yesterday you already have a diagnosis?" 

"Angel, I went over my notes multiple times along with the questions you answered yesterday and there is no possible way I have misdiagnosed you. You are one of our most important clients here at the clinic, and in need of the most urgent mental health help."

"So what is it?" I asked.

"Before I tell you, I cannot stress enough that we do not label people by their mental illnesses, this is all simply therapy purposes, when I tell you the diagnosis you have not all of the things on the check list for it are you, only four out of nine of them have to be."

"Okay shoot."

"It's called Borderline Personality Disorder, some factors may include: impulsive behaviour, harsh moodswings, disassociation, fear of abandonment, splitting, suicidal thoughts, self esteem issues, intense and unnerving dreams, and finally paranoia."

"So where do we go from here?" I asked.

"We have two choices," she began, "You can either stick around and do therapy with me or there is a really nice institute that take amazing care of people diagnosed with other mental illnesses."

"So a mental hospital?" I asked incredulously, raising my eyebrows.

"Not necessarily, I do work there as the personal therapist and there are a lot of kids there just trying to figure themselves out but have been stuck with a mental illness along the way. They're all really nice and are only there to try and get better. You sleep in your own room, get fed great meals and best of all you have a large amount of freedom."

I thought about my mum and the way she always spoke down to me as if she was above me, how she acted as if I was always second rate to everything she does.

I nodded, I wanted to get away from her before I snapped, her not showing up for the appointment when I said I she needed to be here, calling it 'torture' did it for me, "Do I need parental permission?" I asked. 

She shook her head, "No, this program is entirely up to the child whether or not they want to participate. Completely free also," she added.

"Well there goes my next question," I said, "Okay, do I have to sign anything?"

She handed me a piece of paper, I skimmed over it then signed my name down the bottom of the page. 

"I'll personally call you when you're given the okay to go, until then pack your things."