I startle awake. Where the hell am I? What the hell happened? It all comes back to me in flashes: Christian, the bridge. Shit. I know where I am. I look around and my suspicions are confirmed. I'm in the hospital. I try to roll over, but can't. I look down. I'm strapped to the bed. They've actually strapped me to the bed. What kind of a lunatic do they think I am?
"Help" I call out as I try to move once again. "Help me!" I continue as I pull and pull on my restraints but to no avail.
"Mrs. Grey" a nurse in blue scrubs says calmly as she enters my room. "It's okay dear. Do you know where you are?"
"I need to get out of here" I explain as I continue to wiggle around.
"It's okay dear" she repeats soothingly as she injects something into the IV bag attached to my arm.
"What is that?"
"It's just a little something to calm you down" she explains.
"Okay" I mutter as I try to relax. They aren't going to let me out of here, but if I'm drugged into unconsciousness it won't really matter.
"Do you know where my husband is?"
"No dear, I'm sorry. I don't."
For a moment, for one terrible moment it feels like a knife in my chest to hear that he isn't here. But then I remember. I remember how it is now. How I am now. How we are now, and I'm relieved he isn't here. This isn't good for him. I'm not good for him. He needs to move on. And I need… I need to get out of here.
"Please" I say to the nurse in a weak voice. My eyelids feel so heavy, and I feel myself slip further and further into unconsciousness. I try to fight it, but it's pointless. And everything goes black again.
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I awake once again, but this time I know where I am. I don't bother trying to move, I don't bother trying to fight. I just stare off into the distance and think about the past few months.
I was so excited when I found out I was going to have Phoebe. A little girl. I've always wanted a little girl. It seemed like my life was perfect: a fulfilling career, a great group of friends, a husband who adored me, a perfect baby boy and another baby on the way. But then, I ruined it all.
I remember the exact moment I knew something was wrong with me. It was the first night after we brought Phoebe home. She was crying so I picked her up and began to rock her. But as I looked at her and held her I felt nothing towards her. It wasn't anything like when Ted was a baby. All of those motherly feelings- feelings of love, feelings of fierce protectiveness, feelings of awe- were replaced by complete and total apathy.
I thought it would go away, I thought I could ignore it. But the more I tried, the stronger it got and eventually my feelings of apathy turned into feelings of resentment. I resented her, an innocent baby, my baby. What kind of person could feel that way?
But it wasn't just Phoebe. My relationship with every person in my life changed. I completely fell out of contact with Kate and Jose. Calls from Ray and my mother were left unanswered. I left the kids with the nanny as often as I could, and I grew further and further away from Christian. He of course noticed this, and he tried so hard to connect with me again. But the harder he pushed, the harder I pushed back.
The shit really hit the fan when I lost my job. I deserved to lose it, my job performance had been horrible. As hard as I tried, I just could not get into it. I just couldn't care.
Christian was happy that I wouldn't be working anymore, ecstatic actually. He thought this would be the end of all of our issues. He thought that I would turn into this domestic goddess and everything between us would go back to normal. That's what should have happened, that's what Christian deserved, but the opposite happened because I can't do anything right anymore. I can hardly get out of bed in the morning and drag a brush through my hair, let alone take care of two children. Christian just seems so disappointed and frustrated with it all, and I don't blame him. That's how I feel too.
I just can't do it anymore. I can't keep seeing how much I'm hurting him. I can't keep breaking his heart, I can't keep breaking my kids hearts. I failed them. I failed myself. I don't even know what I want anymore. I guess I want to be happy? But a part of me knows I don't deserve that. I deserve to die. I should have died. Oh, why did Christian have to stop me? Doesn't he understand? Can't he see? I'm not the woman he fell in live with, I'm not the women he married, I don't even know who the hell I am anymore, but I definitely don't deserve him. He could do so much better than me.
I just wish I could get out of this damn bed. It's like torture to be stuck here, unable to move, forced to be alone with my thoughts. My own head is a very dark place to be in right now. I'd like some sort of distraction, something to take my mind off of all my issues.
Maybe if I get that nurse back in here she can turn the TV on.
"Excuse me!" I yell. "Excuse me I need help!"
"Ana!" I hear Christian yell as he runs through the door.
I just stare at him blankly.
"What is it baby, what's wrong?"
"Everything" I say as I look down. "Christian, everything's wrong!"
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