Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
I open my eyes as she yells at someone to turn off the machine.
They tied me up. I stare at the bindings, hating her. She of all people should know.
“Jay, it’s okay,” she tells me as she pats my hand over my clenched fist. “You had ICU psychosis and you tried to rip out your IVs, but you’re okay.” Her words barely register as I pull at the bindings, my muscles coiled, but I’m weak.
“Please, Jay. Please stop,” Robin begs me, her voice strained. Her small hands grab my face, and they’re so soft. Her tears hit my chest hard.
It’s only then I see the wires, all the machines.
“Miss,” a nurse calls out behind Robin as she comes forward to take my Robin away.
“Leave me alone!” Robin cries out and then looks back at me, her hazel eyes pleading with me. “Stay with me, Jay. Please. It’s been days of this. Please, Jay. Stay with me.”
Days?
I still my body, my heart beating rapidly and thumping so hard in my chest it hurts.
“He’s fine!” I hear Robin snap at someone behind her and then sniffle. “Don’t put him back under. He’ll be okay. I know he will,” she says and her voice is so strong.
“Robin, what-?” I can’t finish my sentence as the last memory comes to the forefront of my mind. Over and over I smashed my head against the wall and coffee table, against anything. I wanted him out of my head. Jay… the memories of Jay.
I swallow thickly as Robin talks quietly and calmly, in an even cadence meant to avoid agitation.
“You hurt yourself,” she tells me. “You’re okay now, but I need to make sure you can swallow on your own and eat.”
“Swallow?” I ask her.
“When you first came in, you woke up and… and they had to sedate you, Jay.” Her small hand grips my arm tight. She’s so sad as she tells me what’s happened.
“Do they know?” I ask her and then swallow, my throat throbbing from the pain. I don’t care if they hear. I need help. I can’t hurt my Robin. I won’t do it.
I see her nod in my periphery and it draws my attention to her. I try to pull my arm up so I can brush her tears away, but I can’t and I’ve never felt a greater pain in my life.
“It’s called Dissociative Identity Disorder… or split personality as it’s more commonly called.”
I nod once, I know already. I’ve known all along, but part of me has held it down. There is no cure. There are times when you may forget again and slip into psychosis, but constant therapy and a desire to be well are important. I used to think it was because my dad was crazy. It’s not genetic. But it can arise from abuse and stress.
“Could you undo these please?” Robin’s voice comes out strained as she angrily wipes under her eyes. “He’s fine now,” she says confidently. “He’s back,” she whispers.
I can’t look as a nurse unties the bindings and tells me something. Not to hit, not to harm myself. It all turns to a blur as I think about her staying with me for days.
“How many days?” I ask her, although I stare straight ahead at the white wall.
“It’s been six days,” she says and I close my eyes tight. As the binding to my left wrist loosens, I quickly move it to my right, on top of Robin’s.
“You stayed with me?” I ask her and she nods her head but says, “They couldn’t let me stay with you at night at first. I had to get papers and orders.”
It’s quiet for a long time. And I whisper, “I’m sorry.” I truly am. For everything I’ve put her through. She doesn’t answer me, she only kisses my cheeks and then once chastely on my lips, but I can’t open my eyes.
“Your name is John?” Robin asks me.
My voice is raspy as I answer her, “Yes.”
I lay my head back, remembering how she ran again. How I gave her a choice and she left, but yet she’s here.
I speak from the heart. Without thinking at all I say, “You don’t owe me anything, Robin. I knew you’d run, and I knew I’d have to stay behind. You never owed me anything. You never had anything to be sorry for, Robin. This guilt isn’t on you.” I know she needs to hear it. It’s plagued her for so long. My eyes stay closed, and I can’t bear to look at her to see her reaction. I need to let her go for good.
“Stop it, John,” I hear her say and turn my head to her.
“You aren’t mine to keep,” I tell her as my gaze finds hers. I want to keep her though. So badly.
“I was always yours, Jay.” A warmth floods my chest, until I hear the name.