Page 72 of Perfect Chemistry

I quickly fell into a routine once school began. I got up early and ran with Mandy four days a week. Sometimes we ran eight miles, others maybe three. Lucas eventually warmed up to me, and let me use his home gym.

Mandy and I decided to get buff together, and added a few gym routines into our workout schedule. It ended up being just as thorough and intense a schedule as I had in the marines, before the IED attack.

Lucas and Mandy together made me crack up. Normally, Lucas seemed quiet and brooding, but then he’d smoke a bit and suddenly be super chatty. No topic was off limits when he smoked. The contrast was hysterical for me. Lucas had pretty bad PTSD as well, and smoked instead of taking antidepressants and all of the other meds.

He convinced me to give it a shot, and I had to admit it worked better than the sleeping pills the military hospital had prescribed. I still dreamt when I smoked, but I wasn’t a zombie the next morning like with the sleeping pills.

I also learned how to better identify and control my triggers after a couple of months. I enjoyed the routine of physical exertion and then classes. It was something closer to normalcy, even if only for the limited time I would be here.

I agreed to let my folks visit me at Christmas. I thought it would be so much worse than it was, but I smoked with my mom and we got through it. Neither of my parents had any idea that Fiona had used me as an excuse to get out of shit. I had to show them my phone, before my mom stopped trying to defend her.

My dad talked about his own experiences with me, and I explained that I hadn’t known about the dissociative identity disorder.

“So, you have two personalities?” he asked.

“Not really. Not anymore. It’s more like, I compartmentalized the civilian side of me and became just a marine. The marine side of me was stronger in my mind, and better equipped to deal with….. shit.” I explained.

“So what does that mean now?” My mom asked nervously. “Is it possible that you could relapse and spiral all over again?”

I didn’t want to lie, so I just told them my truth. “It’s always a possibility,” I admitted and watched as they both tensed up. “But so is being struck by lightning, winning the lottery or carrying triplets.”

My mom scoffed, “Don’t even get me started about babies!”

I laughed and leaned into my dad’s hug as we sat on the sofa. “I’m not a child, mommy. I had a lot of fucked up shit happen in very short order, and I couldn’t cope. I know you both were trying to help me, but I’m not a kid.”

My dad sighed, “We know you aren’t a kid, Katie. We just did what we thought was best.”

“I know,” I acknowledged. “But you have to understand that, sometimes, what I need and what you want for me are not the same. My needs are the priority when it comes to my health and happiness, not your wants...”

Mom snorted, not happy with my wording, and walked to get herself another cup of coffee.

“Don’t worry about your mother. She understands, even if she doesn’t express it very well,” he whispered against my temple.

I nodded. It was a start.

When mom returned, she was over the previous huff. “When you finish school in April, are you moving back?” she asked, not disguising the hopefulness in her eyes or voice.

I took a deep breath and sighed. “I haven’t decided. Can I get back to you on that one?”

My mom bit her lip and nodded. I hadn’t told her, ‘No.’

Changing the subject, my dad asked about my trade schooling. “Have you finished anything yet? Can I see some of your work?”

My face must have lit up, because both of my parents visibly relaxed as I began telling them about the courses I was taking. I pulled out my phone and showed them pictures of the piece I was working on for my solo project as well as the group projects that my class worked on.

I gave my mom a wood and resin bowl that I turned. It wasn’t perfect, but it was my first attempt. She got super emotional, “This is really for me?”

“I thought you could use it for your keys and wallets,” I explained, watching her slide her hands over every surface.

“I think that would be a great place for it,” my dad agreed.

“It’s beautiful, Katie. Thank you,” my mom said, pulling me into a teary hug.

“And thank you for not giving up on us,” she whispered in my ear as she hugged me.

I squeezed her tighter and let myself cry in her arms. “I’m trying, mommy.”

“I know, sweetie. We know, and you are doing everything right,” she said, caressing my back as we held each other.

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