“Well, I admit I know a little. In a course I took, this was one of the disorders that we went over, and from what my professor said, it’s a diagnosis that’s still highly debatable in the mental health community. There are doctors who swear that it’s real and others who think it’s something that’s ‘therapist induced.’ A misdiagnosis of what could be several other disorders including schizophrenia, bipolar disorder—”
“Okay, so is it real or not?” Hillary interrupts.
“Like I said, there isn’t a general consensus yet. There was one study, however, that recorded neurological changes when the alleged ‘alters’ or ‘changes’ were said to take place. However, it could have been due to a number of factors…”
“Well, regardless of whether this ‘condition’ exists or not, the question is, does he have it? Let’s face it, the chances of him having this are, what?” Hillary exclaims.
“Hillary, I don’t know. I’m not his psychiatrist,” Angela says. “But some of the behaviors Cal exhibited, from what Lauren has shared with me… I wouldn’t completely rule it out as a possibility,”
“Give me a break,” Hillary mumbles.
“Hey, you asked for my opinion and this is how you respond?” Angela retorts sharply.
I rub my fingers in soothing circles on my temples. This conversation is starting to be overwhelming.
“Ladies!” Raven interrupts the two of them, and they immediately become silent, having obviously sensed my stress level rising. “I don’t think any of us here are qualified to agree or disagree with Angela’s comment on the validity of this diagnosis.” She eyes Hillary, who looks away. Raven’s attention focuses back on Angela. “And I think Angela would agree, without knowing the specifics of Cal’s or… Chris’s condition, she can’t be certain whether he does in fact have this condition.”
Angela nods.
“The most important thing right now is to support Lauren in what she believes and in how she decides to move forward from this point.”
I glance up and notice that all of their gazes are on me. Raven reaches for my hand, and I hold it. She squeezes it, giving me a bit of encouragement. The gesture lets me know whatever my answer is, she’s behind me, which means so much at this point.
“I didn’t want to believe them. I didn’t want to believe any of this, but when it was him and me alone, it wasn’t him. It wasn’t Cal.”
“Well, honey, if that is your decision, I stand behind you one hundred percent, and I will be there to support you on it.” Raven smiles and squeezes my hand reassuringly.
“We all will, Lauren,” says Angela, hugging me from behind.
We all look at Hillary, and she takes a deep breath. For a moment, it looks as though she’s contemplating.
“You and Caylen mean the world to me, and I’m sure this is hard enough for you without me bitching about the situation. If you can deal with all of this, I’m not going to be the one to make this harder on you,” Hillary says.
She comes over and wraps her arms around me. I let out a huge sigh of relief. Just knowing that I have the support of the people around me makes things not seem as bad. Certainly not as bad as when I walked through the door an hour ago, but I’m so afraid. I’ve held on to the past for so long. Not knowing what happened to Cal was like having a crutch to lean on, and now it’s been taken away.
“How do I pretend the last few years of my life didn’t happen?” I say frantically.
Angela gently grabs my face and lifts it so that I’m looking directly at her. “You don’t. You don’t pretend that the past didn’t happen, but you don’t dwell on it. You accept the past, but you don’t live there anymore.” She speaks in an affectionate tone, but her words are stern. “You’ve chosen to look forward, and to let go, and you can do it. You’ve been through so much, and you’ve bent a few times but never broken. We won’t let you now!” She squeezes me a little tighter. The authority disappears from her face and the warm smile I know returns. “Okay?”
“Okay.” I nod, calming down.
She’s right. As much as I’ve talked about moving on and forward, I haven’t. It’s the reason I’m still here. Everywhere I look, I see a memory of Cal, enrapturing, comforting, and appeasing me. And now I can’t rest in memories, in false hope. I have to let go. I have to let him go and believe that the future can take the place of my past.
Chapter 18
March 23rd, 2013
It’s been two weeks since the catastrophe of a lifetime happened to me, since I found out about, met, and, well, almost fought with Cal—Chris—and the woman he loves. The woman who, unfortunately, in some bizarre, unimaginable way, will be my daughter’s stepmom. I try not to think about that or how I’m supposed to accept it. I said I would accept it, and my mind says I must, but my heart and mind have never been able to agree on anything. But since I agreed to head back to Madison tomorrow, so Caylen can meet Chris and his parents, I’ve found myself thinking about it more and more. Today, I worked up the confidence to try to start moving forward. Still, it’s funny how when you try to move on, some habits from the past creep in and wrap around you.
I haven’t had any alcohol since before I found out I was pregnant with Caylen. Actually, the last time I drank was the night I most likely conceived her. That night, I packed my things, with the wine’s help, determined to leave Cal. Tonight, I need it to aid me in packing up his things, trying to be content with the fact that he’s gone.
I look at the last box I packed, the remainder of all things “Cal” that I could find. It’s the first step of many that I’m taking to try to “cleanse” myself of him, even though the thought of it makes my heart sink, even though my tears choke me as I gather everything together. I keep trying to remind myself I have to do this, that this is for Caylen, but how do I shake the feeling that I’m in mourning? I know it’s only been two weeks since all of this happened, but when do I feel “fixed”? When will I be able to get over all that has happened? When do I start to feel a little less numb than I did the day before? Because now, the same hole within me just seems to be getting deeper, and what Angela described as a way of taking my life back, in actuality, is like burying myself deeper and deeper. I squeeze my hands together and take deep breaths. I can’t stand this.
After spending hours going through his things and packing them, cleansing myself, I’ve been searching old pictures of us, unsuccessfully trying to find some sign. Was there some secret hidden behind his eyes that I failed to unlock? I replay every conversation we had. Was there something I missed? Did he ever try to tell me? Was there anything I ignored which would have prevented me from being here? In the end, I realize I’m surrounded by the past, by lies, by a ghost of a person who never really existed.
That thought sends chills through my body. If I believed it, I wouldn’t be in mourning for a person who’s still alive. At least his body is here. I try not to think about where Cal really is. What happens to an alter when it’s not here? Has he completely dissipated, or can he see from behind Chris’s eyes? At first sight, when I threw myself onto Chris and called Ca;’s name, was Cal somewhere in there? Could he hear me call him? Could he see me?