Wrists

Elijah left the room as soon as my mother walked in. He passed her a polite smile-nod before he slowly closed the door behind him, forcing us to face one another. My heart was beating fast and hands shaking so much I could hardly pick up anything. I watched silently as she turned her eyes to me, looking confused and concerned all at once. She knew something big was about to happen. She probably didn’t want it to happen, but it was. I couldn’t back out now.

“Sit,” I choked out, lowering myself in the computer office chair. She sat on the edge of the bed, closest to me.

“There’s something you want to tell me.” Her voice was quiet. Hollow. Raw. She folded her hands on her lap and let out a gentle sigh. “Go on.”

I had a short moment of guilt. Regret. Doubt. Was I really going to do this? Did I really want everyone in my immediate family to know all of the secrets I tried so hard to hide? Or did they know all along? I couldn’t stop shaking; I had difficulty breathing.

There’s nothing to tell her, Graham. You’re just going to bring something to light that was never meant to bring to light. Just calm down, think about it, and tell her to move on with her life. You don’t want her to think she’s the source of your so-called “problem”, do you? You don’t want your mother to suffer and doubt herself; or, worse: go into her depression again? You’re smarter than this, Graham. Let her be happy.

No. No, no, no. The demons are awake, alert. They can sense my mind is trying to reject them. They don’t want that. So they’re pretending to be my conscious to stop me. They don’t want to go; they want to kill me. I couldn’t let them do that. So, I had to tell her, no matter what. My mouth was dry. I could hardly breathe.

“Graham?” My mother broke the silence. Her droopy eyes warmed. “It’s okay, Graham. Go ahead.” She was trying hard to be understanding. She was trying really hard to prevent her old ways from shining through, like they always did. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Fucking tell her, Graham.

Go on.

I felt another breakdown coming. But—this time—I let it. My shoulder slumped, head bowed, and I let out sob after sob. Soon her gentle arms wrapped around me, pulling me into her soft chest. I leaned my body on her (not worried about putting too much weight on her, because the scale said I didn’t have much weight to put on her, anyway), and continued to sob until I felt I was drained.

We sat there, her now slightly rocking me, for what felt like hours. It felt nice to be in her arms; we hadn’t shared any moment or physical contacts in years. I didn’t want anyone to touch me—I never wanted to even touch myself. I was disgusted and ashamed of who I was. And I wanted to overcome that so, so badly.

My mother’s warm touch made me want to tell her everything that came through my head.

So I did.

And, for once, my mother sat there with me and listened. She actually listened. She made no noise, she didn’t stop holding me, nor did she fidget. She just sat there and listened to the beginning—when her sister died and how she felt and how she made me feel—and the middle—when I went through my depressed stage of isolation and striving for the impossible perfection that everyone yearned for so badly—and even until the bitter end—the outcome of all of the trauma I witnessed in the past. My mother listened to me.

It made me feel safer. More protected. More human.

Was this the key to unlock my cage? Was this the key to set the beast free? Have I owned the key all along, without realizing it? Was Graham able to be human again? Hope filled my chest as I finished my long story. My mother was still overwhelmingly silent, even when I stopped speaking to her.

We continued to sit there.

We continued to share one another’s company.

At first I was slightly upset and confused she gave me no words of sympathy, no apologies, not even one word.

But then I realized:

the cure to the demons in my head wasn’t any words of kindness or sympathy, or even apologies. The cure to the demons in my head was connecting to my mother. That was the cure after all.

Please let this be the cure, God. Please let this be the answer to all of my problems.

There was only one way to find out.