A/N: This chapter is going to deal with some talk of depression and suicide. If this is a trigger for you in any way, please be warned. If you don't want to read this chapter because of these parts, please send me a message or write me a review, and I will give you a plot summary, from this chapter, so you're not behind.
When I woke up the following morning the house was quiet. Not that the Cullens were normally a loud group of people, quite the opposite, but there was usually at least some sort of noise that let me know I wasn't all alone in the house. I suspected that the sounds they made were either for my benefit or a holdover from having to act human all the time, but I didn't really care about it enough to ask.
Upon further inspection of my surroundings I saw that someone had brought up breakfast for me and pulled out some comfy clothing for me to wear for the day. A note next to a small bowl of mixed fruit informed me that the entire family, with the exception of Rose had gone to the nearest major city, which was two hours away (or half that Cullen speed), and they would be gone for the remainder of the day. I was to take my time eating and getting ready, but as soon as I felt I was ready I was to meet Rose outside in the garden.
I toyed with the idea of staying locked up in my room for a few more hours simply to avoid dealing with my session, but something told me that if I did that the rest of the family would magically decide to make a weekend of it and stay overnight. So rather than act like a petulant child I went about my morning routine. I didn't rush, but I didn't drag my feet either.
The garden was one of the most peaceful places in the house. I didn't spend much time in it, but I wished I did. There were rows of neatly kept flowers and in the center there was a glider swing, which was where I found Rosalie waiting for me.
"Good morning Bella, how did you sleep last night?"
"Fine, as well as could be expected at least."
Rosalie nodded thoughtfully. "I asked the family to clear out for a bit longer than usual. I hope you don't mind, but you and I need to talk about quite a bit today, and I didn't want to risk one of them over hearing us. There's also a therapeutic activity I'm going to try with you later on, assuming you're up to it."
"What kind of activity? Because I'm not striping down so you can paint words on my body with pudding or anything like that."
She let out a peal of startled laughter, "Why the hell would I want to do anything even remotely like that?"
I shrugged, "I don't know, I saw it on a reality show once."
Rose just shook her head and continued to laugh, "No Bella, I will not be stripping you down to paint you with anything, pudding or otherwise. I'm also not going to tell you what the activity is until we get to that point. I want to start today off by talking about your diagnosis and medication. Do you remember how I said they were treating you for the wrong things at the hospital?"
I nodded.
"Well, that wasn't entirely true. In looking over your files, you were depressed when you entered the institution, and to an extent you still are, but they were treating you for suicidal tendencies, which you didn't really display. So I'm going to ask you straight up, have you ever tried to kill yourself?"
"No."
"Have you ever had thoughts of suicide or self harm?"
"Yes."
"Can you please elaborate?"
I had to take a moment to order my thoughts. Yes, I'd had thoughts of suicide, but I never thought to take them seriously, they were fleeting. "I haven't ever really thought about hurting myself, I'm not a masochist. I have thought about suicide though, not in a big way though. I mean, I never made a plan or anything, I never let my thoughts get that far. It was more when I was in the institution, I wanted an escape, I needed to get out of there."
Rosalie nodded, "So you never had any thoughts of suicide before entering the institution?"
"Not that I can recall."
"Alright, that deals fairly neatly with one of their failed diagnoses. The drugs they had you on are known to create some thoughts of suicide in young adults as a side effect. Although you were technically depressed, in the clinical sense, they were not treating you correctly for the cause of your depression. However, in your doctor's defense, there was really no way for them to do that."
"Why not?"
"I'm afraid that falls under the realm of things that you aren't ready to hear as of yet."
I huffed in frustration, "And when do you think I'll be ready to hear all of these things that you keep hinting at?"
"I don't know Bella, this isn't an exact science, and even if it was, your case would likely be the exception to the rule. I hope for everyone involved that you're ready soon, but it might take a while before you are."
She gave me a moment to mull that over before continuing her discussion of all the ways my doctors had fucked me up.
"Now, on to the PTSD, again, your doctor's weren't entirely wrong, you did display signs of PTSD, and I'm rather confident that you do in fact suffer from it, however, you couldn't ever talk about why you had it, so they couldn't council you properly. According to they're notes they assumed that you had some sort of violent breakup, or that there was some other sort of intense trauma surrounding your break up."
"There was intense trauma surrounding my break up!" I burst out.
Rosalie kept her calm demeanor though. "I'm not saying that there wasn't, again though there's a lot of that that stems from the things you're not ready to talk about. I'm referring more to the fact that your PTSD began with the James situation, not with Edward leaving you. You never really dealt with that, not that anyone can blame you. You seemed to be fine, and Edward decided that none of us were to dredge up bad memories for you, so we left it alone. When we left you no longer had the protection that we offered, and so your mind turned on itself."
I mulled this over for a while, having never really considered that there may have been consequences of James's attack after my initial injuries, but now that someone laid it all out for me, it seemed obvious. In fact more stuff started to come to my mind.
"What about all the other stuff though? Could any of that have had an effect?"
Rosalie cocked her head to the side, "What other stuff?"
I started to tick the events off on my fingers, "Well before the entire incident with James there were other events which occurred that I might have repressed. I almost got gang raped in Port Angeles and I almost got hit my Tyler's van. Add then there's all the stuff after that, like when Jasper came after me, and then Edward left. Really, I was just a time bomb wasn't I?"
Rosalie thought on that for a moment, "Yes, I suppose you were. If you really think about it, you'll find that Edward was your protector through most of those events, and when he left it's like you had your safety blanket removed. Was your life in Phoenix as dangerous as your life in Forks? I've seen your medical records, and you did suffer quite a few injuries, but there isn't a lot about the causes of those injuries in your file."
"No, I mean, I'm not the most graceful person, so most of the injuries resulted from me trying to do normal things, like jump off a swing or something. My life wasn't particularly traumatic."
Rose nodded, "So then, yes, I would say that there is probably some merit to the idea that the incidents before James had an impact on your mind. You have me at a bit of a disadvantage Bella, in that I can't know for sure how your mind works, but I know it must be at least somewhat different from the way the minds of others work, because my brother can't read you."
"Great, so there really is something fucked up in my brain, awesomesauce."
Rose laughed, "Yes and no, there's something different in your brain, something that isn't there in others. Then there are other physiological differences between you and your average Joe on the street. There are some things in your brain that are the same as every human, and to a point that's where the PTSD comes from, then there are the things in your brain that have to do with outside influences, which is where I believe the bulk of your depression comes from. Do you get what I'm saying?"
Not really.
"So basically, I'm a freak, but some of it is natural and some of it isn't actually my fault."
"None of it is actually your fault Bella, and I wish you'd stop seeing it that way. Think about it, out of all the incidents that led to put you in this state, how many decisions did you actually make? Did you choose to almost be raped? Or to have a van try to smash your face in? Or for a vampire to want you for a snack, sadistic or otherwise? No, you didn't, so stop acting like you've committed some sort of crime."
"Well you're certainly singing a different tune now than you were a few years ago. Then I believe you thought of me as a threat that needed to be eliminated."
"My opinions have obviously changed. There's no law against that."
"But why did they change Rosalie? I get that there's a certain amount of twisted guilt or gratitude you feel in regards to me because I kept my mouth shut, but that wouldn't merit the level of compassion you seem to be showing me now. I'd be willing to bet money that back in Forks, you would have decided this was my entire fault."
"You would have lost that bet. I would have blamed the same person I blame now, my idiot brother. But just so we're completely clear, let me explain a few things to you. I never blamed you for falling in love with my brother, we're designed so that you want us, even when all of your senses are sending you hurtling in the opposite direction. I blamed my brother for allowing you into this life in any capacity. I saw you as a risk that wasn't worth the rewards you may have presented. Since that time I've reordered my opinions about you, due largely to events that I'm quite sure you would rather not speak on at the moment. That being said, when you're ready to talk about it, I will be happy to answer any and all questions you have about the way I feel towards you."
I considered challenging her for a moment, considered demanding she explain what she was talking about. It all seemed rather convenient, if there was a question I asked that she didn't want to answer, she could just tell me I wasn't ready to hear it. However, despite all the anger and annoyance I was feeling at that moment, I somehow knew that she wasn't putting me off, she wasn't lying to me, she was trying to protect me.
"It's almost noon," Rosalie said, "I'm satisfied with the progress we've made today in hashing out some of your issues. You slept pretty late, so if it's alright with you I have one more activity for you and then we'll call it a day."
"Activity?"
Rose grinned, "Yeah, that alternative therapy method I mentioned earlier. Come with me."
She led me to the other side of the house and into the garage. In a similar fashion to the Forks house the Cullens did not actually park their vehicles in the garage under the house, instead they had remodeled one of the buildings on the property to serve as a garage and work space for Rosalie. The garage under the main house was used as a storage space and triage center for Esme's charitable donations.
Or at least it had been until recently.
When rose and I entered I found that the space had been transformed into something that resembled a boxing training center from one of the movies Charlie used to watch, minus the rind. There were some free weights, a punching bag, and one of those little upside down balloon things. There was also an assortment of boxing gloves in various colors and tape that I assumed was for my hands.
"What the hell is this for?" I asked.
"This," Rose said, "Is a room devoted entirely to helping you work out your frustrations. Normally I wouldn't condone violence of any kind, but I think you need a physical outlet, and since you'd hurt yourself more than any of us if you decided to let off some steam, this is the best place for you to do it. Take out your aggression and anger towards every person who ever made you hurt."
I looked at the room and smirked.
Then I went for it.
