It's been a long time, I know. In these months I received lots of messages from people who asked how I was doing and why I had left writing stories. I can't tell the full story, but I feel the need to give an explanation, at least to be coherent and just to myself.
I'm fighting a ugly, messy depression syndrome. And while many people helped me find some hope, the darkest abyss of my sould dragged me in a not-so-funny drug addition. So I asked myself "hey girl, how can you pretend to be fine if you don't even have the courage to admit to yourself what have you become? So I combined profit with pleasure and..here I am. I don't want to write the classical love story between a therapist and her patient, that's really far from reality. I'm trying to tell my story...well...some of my stories through this nice characters we learned to love. And maybe in this way I'll find peace. This story is a fictionalized version of my journey. And since I don't even know where I am now, I can't say when, how or if this is going to end. As always, a review is more than welcome. Doccubus, rated M for language, sex, and triggers.
The first time it happened, she was playing soccer. She was smiling, laughing at her dorky friend Kenzi who was messing up in the penalty area, the area she was supposed to defend. Bo was laughing, that late summer evening, one of the usual nights she used to spend with her friends in a field. Just to forget, for one moment, everything. Just to focus, for an hour a week, on a ball; and not on her life.
Bo shaked her head as she smiled. She looked over the other side of the green synthetic field. Then happened.
Who suffers from panic attacks knows this too well: the first time it happens you don't know what the fuck is going on. Your legs start to shake, your whole life collapses as your mind flies over the edges of saneness.
As Bo's mental breakdown took over, she thought of an heart attack. Simple and clean. Well, Bo Dennis had always been a dramatic person, but at least she wasn't hypochondriacal...'till that night.
She bent over her knees to focus. Maybe it was just a sugar drop. But then, why on earth her brain was twisting in that way? Why was she so disoriented? Like a soul leaving the body. Everything she knew, everything she remember untill that day was gone. Every thought, every emotion. Her brain was leaving her. Bo Dennis was going mad.
"BoBo are you alright? You look like you found mr Hill's acids..."
Kenzi was standing there, now so close to Bo, who tried to understand where she was. "I'm sure that man is always on acids..." Kenzi laughed. But her best friend Bo wasn't. The brunette was helding her head with all the force she had, as if doing it would have prevented her brain from escaping. Now Kenzi wasn't smiling anymore. She put a hand over Bo's forehead, feeling the ice cold sweat soaking her own hand.
"BoBo!" she screamed before Bo could fall down, unconscious.
One month later
Bo Dennis hadn't been leaving home for a month now. Since the first panic attack, like a earthquake had hit, the foundation of her life were shaken and destroyed. Every certainty, everything she believed in ended that night, on that stupid soccer field. The panic attack not only allowed Bo to enter the fantastic world of mental illness and patologic anxiety. She totally forgot who she was before that blinding flash of pure fear. She wouldn't sleep, she wouldn't eat. She quitted smoking and drinking, as her anxiety took over and convinced her that she was about to die at any moment.
She had so many friends, now she was alone. Nobody exept Kenzi stayed for her, and that fed incessantly her mental complexes. But she had Kenzi and her family at least. She still could count on them. October was approaching, and Kenzi -as every early afternoon - went to check on her.
Bo had been loosing weight and her eyes showed mercilessy her lack of sleep. She tended to shake everytime her brain was about to do that thing where her mind left her body leaving her alone with all sorts of tragic thoughts.
Kenzi entered her room silently and sat on the mattress. Before speaking, she took a moment to fix Bo's messy hair.
"Your mom told me you lost your job BoBo..."
Bo smiled slightly. "It happens when you don't leave your room for a certain amount of time."
"I can't see you this way, you were a star! A beautiful, dazzling star! Better than Oprah!"
"Nobody's better than Oprah."
"Well, obvious..." Kenzi remarked, "but come on Bobo, look at you! You haven't left this place for a month now, how long will you last in this state?"
Bo shruggred and gave her a flebile -yet painfully beautiful- smile. "Forever?"
Kenzi snorted and hit her head with a rolled up magazine. "I won't leave you rotting here, you're my sistah! My beautiful friend who distracts the ladies from the guys I like!"
Bo laughed and cried at the same time. "I don't know what to do, Kenz. I feel like I'm..."
"Dying? Oh, you will die if you don't listen to me, BobaFett..." Kenzì said in a serious tone. "You know what you have to do. You have postponed for too long."
"Kenz, I'm not going to see a shrink."
But Kenzi didn't listen. She handled her an envelope of clean clothes. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, appointment at 11.00"
Bo looked at her confused. "W-what..." But before she could ask anything Kenzi was fleeing, screaming from the stairs.
"And wash your hair BoBo!"