I am HER... (55 page)

 
"Absolutely, I’ll tell her.  But I think she already knows..."

                    
          CHAPTER 29

 
  Marcus will be here to talk to me tomorrow.  Mack told me that he spoke with Marcus extensively over the last 8 weeks.  Mack also told me Marcus has even
agreed
to 'continued therapy'.

 
Marcus in therapy?  Marcus admitting he needs help?  It’s just so strange to think of Marcus admitting he isn’t perfect and that he needs help as well.  It’s kind of a relief, too.

 
I hope Marcus received counseling about sex as well.  I don’t know for sure, because Mack can’t tell me anything about their sessions, but I hope so.  I’m sure Marcus still thinks he’s god’s gift to women,
sexually
, but now
I
understand differently.  After all those years of pain and sexual brutality, I finally understand Marcus was wrong to treat me like he did.  Marcus was the problem… at least in part.

 
I understand now, I too, hold some of the blame because I could have left him.  Had I understood at the time that what he was doing to me
was
sexual abuse, I
should
have left him.  But I didn’t understand, and I didn’t leave, and therefore I hold part of the blame. 

 
I don’t know, but I’m sure Mack would have brought to Marcus’ attention the fact that he was sexually abusing me for six years, and hopefully Marcus is aware now, and will never do it again, to either me, or to some other woman in the future.

 
I don't know what's been said between them.  Mack can't tell me because of
their
Doctor/Patient Confidentiality agreement, but Mack did say that I may be surprised by what Marcus has to say to me.  And that’s all I know, which is kind of frustrating, actually.
  We'll see.  I've only had to talk to Marcus a few times since mid-July, and they were very short, very precise conversations.  It was all very
civilized.
  It was all very standard for Marcus, but not so standard for me anymore.  I found myself wanting to just scream after our ‘civilized’ conversations.
  In a strange way, I actually feel badly for Marcus.  This certainly wasn't the life he signed on for, nor was it the life he would have chosen for himself.  Marcus likes calm and order.  Marcus is a stickler for routine and control.  Marcus wouldn’t have even recognized that he
was
abusive, therefore, he probably lives now in a state of shock, that his actions toward me may have actually contributed to my emotional breakdown.  Marcus honestly believed he was the blameless ‘
good guy’
in all this, I’m sure.  And it is this ignorance of his actions that makes me feel badly for him, not that I feel him blameless for the actual abuse I endured by him.

 
We’ll see what tomorrow holds for Marcus and me.  It should be interesting at the very least.  I just hope it’s not brutal between us, not that I think Mack would let it get that far.

                                
==========

  T
he last three and a half months have been anything but easy.  It still amazes me how far I've come in the last three and a half months.  It amazes me even more that I
survived
the last three and a half months.

 
This hospital room has seen me at my absolute worst, I know that.  I am more than aware of what I did now, and what I was even planning to do.  I am still shocked to learn I attempted suicide on June 1st, and that I wanted to commit suicide by the end of June as well.
  I remember when Mack told me.  I remember the feeling of shock.  I remember not believing him, until slowly the memory returned to me.  So slowly, like a tangled mess of memory and unreality, wrapped in horrific pain... the memory merged into a crisp recollection of my last night at Z's apartment.

 
I clearly remember the ambulance ride now.  I remember Z talking to me the whole time.  I remember Mack and the ambulance attendant having to restrain Z from holding me in his arms. I remember his tears and his apologies.  I even remember the complete and utter despair I felt watching Z’s desperation and sadness.
  It was such a strange ride to the hospital.  I continued to fall in and out of consciousness; hearing Z speak to me, then Mack speaking to me, then Mack trying to calm Z, while still trying to soothe me.  I remember both men fighting so hard to keep me alive.  I remember both men promising to help me.  I remember just staring at Z's beautiful face.  And that's all
I remember seeing; Z's beautiful tear stained face throughout the ride to the hospital as I fell in and out of consciousness.
  Apparently, in a twisted view of my actions, I actually survived dying
because
of my suicide attempt.  If not for my attempt, I never would have been in the hospital when the aneurism fully ruptured.

 
Apparently, the medication I ingested causes a person to fall into a coma when an overdose occurs, and lucky me, I fell into a coma from the overdose.  While in the initial coma, the doctors in the ER preformed an MRI and a neurologic brain scan, and that’s when the bleeding aneurism was found.

 
Had I not attempted suicide, overdosed, and fallen into a coma I would have had a slow brain bleed probably alone in the hotel room in Chicago.  Likely, I would have just fallen asleep, never to wake again, I’ve been told.
 
God,
hearing these facts with my new clearer head is remarkable.  It was
so
close- closer than I could have ever imagined, closer than anyone could have imagined.  I lived, because I wanted to die.  So. Messed. Up.

 
And of course, if not for Z, I would be dead right now, buried in the ground.  Without Z's insistence that I accompany him to New York, or Z's insistence on taking care of me, or Z's insistence on having Mack come to his apartment to meet with me…without any of those actions, I would be dead.  Everything he did- all of it- saved my life.  Whether he knew that at the time or not becomes totally irrelevant.  Z’s actions saved my life.  Period.
  Even now, Z remains my staunch, true supporter, though now it is from a distance.  We haven't spoken, and I haven't seen him since that last horrible encounter, because
I've
needed to maintain my distance.  I have to stay distant.  I
need
the distance while I try to put my life back together.  But I know he’s always there, in the background.  I can feel him there.
  I do need to thank him, I know that as well.  And I will.  I've been working toward it.  With Mack's help, I'm getting really good at saying what I think, and recognizing what I feel,
when
I feel it.
   I don't really hide anymore- Okay, I
try
not to hide any longer, but I still have to fight the overwhelming urge to retreat and hide each and every day.  That 'survival mechanism' is still strong, but with Mack's help I can pause for a moment
before
I turn to retreat.  It still happens from time to time, well, pretty frequently, actually... But I'm working on it.  Every single day, I work on it.  Mack helps me work on facing each day without retreating back into my head, alone.

                                
==========

 
And then there’s Mack- another whole story in of itself.  Mack is my Angel.  I tell him often and he just grins.  He knows how I feel about him.  Though we have, and will
always
maintain a completely platonic relationship, we love each other very much.  I'm sure I love him more than he loves me, but when I ask him, he always says that’s simply not the case. He swears he feels just as strongly for me, as I feel for him.  Honestly, his kindness knows no end.
  Mack even took a 'Leave of Absence' from the hospital, so that he could devote his time to my care.  My Estate pays him because I insisted on it, when he refused.  And after a big fight between us, I refused to see him, if he didn't accept payment from me.  He hummed and hawed, but eventually recognized it was the only way for me to trust him completely.
  I needed the small barrier of Doctor/Patient to truly trust him.  And once he accepted my financial proposal and he took his 'Leave of Absence', we picked up right where we left off; Doctor and patient, and dear,
dear
friends.  And so far, Mack remains the only person on the entire planet who I trust implicitly.

  I
even know Mack was brought up by the Psychiatric Review Board after taking my case on.  Mack had to explain what he was doing, how he was doing it, and why his methods were so necessary to 'my recovery'.  Eventually, he convinced the Board that he wasn’t breaking any ethics laws by becoming my private physician.  He finally convinced them, and I finally exhaled. 
  If not for Mack, I would have died.  I know that.  The despair, both caused by my brain injury, and by my past, would have inevitably killed me.  I absolutely know beyond a shadow of doubt that I would have killed myself, had Mack not been there waiting for me.
  And Mack waited.  He was so patient and kind.  No matter what I did or said.  No matter how I tried to hurt him.  No matter how I tried to hurt myself... Mack stayed right beside me.  He refused to leave me, and he refused to let me
slip away,
as he said it.
 
He did what no one else has ever done my whole life- he chose to help and protect me, day and night, period. 
  When I was still too messed up to even speak for myself, Mack spoke for me.  When I was too weak to fight, Mack fought for me.  When I gave up, Mack refused to allow me.
  At one point, a few weeks after my complete breakdown, I remember Mack losing it. 
Finally.
  Thinking about it now, it's almost funny.

 
Mack was always professional, always a
Doctor.
  But in this one moment, he told me afterward, he honestly believed he was going to lose me, and he just...
snapped.
 
  After a particularly grueling session, after which I basically had nothing left, all I did was cry to die, while turning away from him and life.  I was nearly catatonic with my despair, and that’s when Mack SNAPPED completely.

 
Grabbing my arms hard while shaking me, Mack actually begged me to come back.  He yelled in my face.  He was so frustrated, and scared of my complete decline into madness and depression.... And then he
cried.
 
  I think it was that exact moment when I finally felt
something
.  I realized I didn't want Mack to cry, or to hurt
ever
, especially because of me
.
  I just couldn't stand the thought of such a wonderful man hurting because of
someone like me
.

 
Looking at his tears and wanting to comfort him, I just grabbed hold of him and hugged him as tightly as possible.  I remember really sobbing for the first time since my breakdown in Mack's arms.  We both just cried and then he whispered…

 
"Are you back, Suzanne?" And that was it.
  
Suzanne.
 
  He said it.  He said my name and I sobbed in his arms for hours.  Every time I thought I was finished crying, Mack would whisper
'Suzanne'
in my ear and I would sob again.  For hours he did this.  Just held me, whispered my name, and let me cry, often hysterically, in his arms.
  And that was the day I
became
Suzanne- complete.
  That day I put to rest all the other names.  I will never again be anyone but Suzanne.  I refuse to be.  In my shock and confusion, Mack told me it was okay to REFUSE to be the other names.

 
So, that day I actually put to rest;
Slut, Whore, Cunt, Dirty Hole, Cock-Sucker, Bitch, Pig, Darling, Honey, Sweetie, Babe,
and sadly…
Sweetheart.
  Mack told me I
am
Suzanne.  And I can be
any
Suzanne that I want to be.  I can rebuild her, and make her whatever I want to be.  There are no more rules and no one to demand I be what
they
want her to be.  It’s up to me now to make Suzanne into the woman I always wanted her to be.  It is finally my choice.
 
I am now Suzanne.
  Mack even described the Suzanne he knows, and she was pretty good.  Of course, I can improve her, and I have to start really
feeling
her, but she is me now.  I am her and she is me, any
me
that I want to be.
  And I'm working on it.  Suzanne and the
old
me are trying day by day to get acquainted with each other, and we’re trying to live with each other.  Every time a different name or feeling surfaces, we inhale and state that 'I am Suzanne now.  No one else.'  And it's slowly working.