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“She’s not crazy.” “She’s not normal, either, Mam,”
The pain was instant, and it was glorious.
nothing I’d ever tried before compared to the peace I found from the sharp edge of a blade.
I was trying to survive and had finally found a way to make it through the days without wanting to die.
“I just want to be normal.”
Sitting around the table for Christmas dinner with my sister’s empty chair was a stark reminder of how we would never be a family again.
It was how I had learned to function. To bury it all down.
“I just wanted to be normal, okay!” I screamed, tears flowing freely down my face. “I just wanted a fucking shot at being like every other person our age who doesn’t have to ram pill after fucking pill down their throat in order to function!”
And I was the one who had to live like this until the day I died.
“I don’t think you’re a horrible person, Liz,” he replied. “I think you’re a sick person.”
“I know you’re sick, Liz,” I heard him say. “I get that, but it doesn’t take away what you did.”
I knew this wasn’t who Liz was, and I knew she was sick, but I was too hurt and too fucking raw to separate the two.
“Because she’s sick, Mam, and whatever she did, she wouldn’t have done it if she were herself.”
“I know you’re sick. I know you don’t mean any of this, but it’s still real for me. Because I’m here, Liz. I’m the collateral fucking damage.”
This man irritated me to the point where I avoided him as much as possible.
