The Mathematician (Book 1)

6. Trauma Equals Drama

After dinner, I was full, satiated and feeling somewhat comfortable. It was only for another while, though.

Holding my phone in my hand, I flipped and turned it while trying to amp up my courage. I wasn't a wimp when it came to doing things. This whole ordeal was my living proof of it, but when it came to... this... it always took so much of my energy, and maybe that's why I needed courage. Or strength.

Sighing, I finally flipped my phone over and found the contact I was looking for. Pressing the green button, I then slowly lifted the phone to my ear and closed my eyes with a deep breath as the phone rang. 

It took about four rings before the line was picked up. My heart twisted and I smiled a little as I heard my mom's voice in the other end. 

"Hey, hon!"

"Hi, mom," I replied, smiling wider when it sounded like she was in a good mood. Calling my mom or visiting her was like poking a time bomb. You never knew when it was gonna blow. 

"It's so funny you called me, I was just thinking about you. How are you? How've you been? Are you still doing that whole... tutoring thing?" She questioned. 

To keep my cover from accidentally getting broken, I'd told my mom that I had received an offer for tutoring instead of taking summer classes. Technically, I hadn't been all wrong. "Yeah, I am. It's going really well. I'm actually—"

"Oh, darling, I just have to tell you this! I met a man."

And just like that, I felt the knot in my heart dissolve and sink into my stomach. "Oh... really?"

"And he's the absolute sweetest! He took me on a date out in the suburbs somewhere, this little local restaurant owned by this old couple. I think you'd really like him."

"That's great, mom," I smiled weakly, even though she couldn't see it. It all didn't matter, though. In a few weeks, it all wouldn't matter if I liked him or not. My mom was self-destructive, and if this turned into a relationship, history dictated her disorders were going to drive this poor man away. 

But that wasn't even the real problem. What really hurt the most? She couldn't help it. She had her problems, and she couldn't help that she had them, but what irritated me was that every time she got into a relationship, she stopped taking her meds. She always said she got so happy, she didn't need them anymore. And what happened every time after she stopped? Her borderline and schizophrenia flared up, and it became more than what the guy had bargained for. If men couldn't manage dating normal crazy women, then a woman with an unstable psyche wasn't even remotely manageable. 

Every time she ended up losing a guy, she went right back to being a mess, unwilling to take her medicine for weeks until I finally begged her enough to start taking them again, or worse, had to pick her up from the police station, after doing something stupid and reckless.

Growing up with an unstable mom hadn't been easy, but being an adult hadn't really helped much either. Whether I was a kid or an adult, she refused to listen to me and do as the doctors told her; to keep taking her meds regularly and constantly. It had been frustrating at first and for many years on end, but eventually I had moved past that stage. 

Now all I felt was an all-destructive numbness that came with a dosage of pain, knowing I could see into the future and knowing what would happen. 

"So, I was hoping you'd be able to stop by this weekend," My mom continued animatedly on the other end. "I'm making dinner for him at my place, and I really want to introduce you to him. What do you say?"