Page 59 of Change My Mind
“It was. I had good people around me at the time. I had…Freya.” I didn’t know if I was ready to go into details about Freya. That hurt for a whole different reason.
Addie’s fingers stilled again.
“That’s good. That you had people and didn’t have to go through that alone.” Her fingers started up again. “Do you always work today?”
“I happened to have a day off after that first year, and it was…not good. I couldn’t get out of bed. Freya tried everything under the sun to get me outside, but it didn’t work. I couldn’t think of anything worse than going out to enjoy the sun when my mother could no longer enjoy her favourite season. Looking back, I think that might have been the beginning of the end for us. She lacked a lot of patience with me when it came to my grief. You never know how you’re going to react to the big things, and she didn’t like the way I reacted.” I guess I was giving details of Freya away unprompted, then. “After that first year, I worked as much as I could. Work gave me a reason to get out of bed. It gave me something to focus on. Yes, I was still sad, but at least I was doing something.”
“I wouldn’t say working yourself into the ground is the healthiest of coping mechanisms.”
“I never said it was, but I work in a profession that lets people do arguably unhealthy things. Like work too much. It was what I had, and it meant that I didn’t make my grief anyone else’s problem. Which felt like a bonus because being sad about my mostly estranged mother being dead bothered a lot of people in my life.”
“That says more about them than you. You are allowed to process things the way that feels most natural to you. There is nothing wrong with that. And for people to make you feel bad for grieving makes them pretty shitty.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call those people friends. I mean, I’ve not spoken to them since I left Manchester, and I’ve not missed them. And that’s not even really why I feel so shittoday. Every year since she passed, in the days leading up to the anniversary, I have felt it. The slow ebb of the wave of grief, getting ready to crash over me. But that didn’t happen this year. I was so busy living my life that I didn’t even realise what day it was until last night. How could I forget something so huge?”
“Because you’ve just started a new job and you’ve relocated, and the days all blur into one another. It doesn’t make you a bad person. It means you’re living your life. I didn’t know your mum, but I don’t think she would begrudge you for that. And you didn’t forget. It manifested itself differently this year, but you didn’t forget. And you don’t have to go through it alone. You have people around you who wouldn’t think twice about giving you a shoulder to cry on. Just ask any one of the girls. Me. Jesse. If you need one of us, then we’ll rally.”
I scoffed. “I’m sure they all have better things to do than deal with my sadness.”
“That’s not your decision to make. The worst they can do is say they can’t at that time. But one of us is bound to be free. And it will probably always be Jesse because he is great at managing his time, according to my sister.”
“Can you speak on their behalf?”
“Yes, I can. Now, are you okay to walk home? The lunch shift is almost done, and I’m guessing you don’t want to be witnessed right now.”
I didn’t want to move from this safe place that she had created. But she was right. I didn’t need other people to see my red-rimmed, puffy eyes and the tear stains on Addie’s jumper.
“Yeah, we can go home.”
Thirty-Eight
ELI
My head felt heavy. My eyes were sore when I blinked them open, a distant sound arousing me from sleep. I ran a hand over my face and could feel that it was puffy. Yesterday had been rough.
“Did I wake you?” Addie’s voice was quiet from the door. I could only make out the general shape of her in the din as she straddled the threshold of my room and the hallway. The sound that woke me wasn’t a distant one at all. It was her knocking on my door.
“Kind of. But I think I was ready to wake up anyway,” I answered, my voice thick and rough. I cleared my throat and pushed up onto my elbows. Addie stepped into my room fully.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. It’s kind of late in the day for you to still be asleep, and I wanted to make sure that you weren’t just wallowing by yourself.”
I didn’t think I had any tears left after yesterday, but I felt apressure behind my eyes as Addie came to sit on the edge of my bed.
“That makes it sound like I can wallow with a companion,” I half joked, keen to change the sombre mood we still seemed to be living in.
Addie smiled. A flash of white in the grey light of the room. Her hand settled on the bed, fingers barely grazing my calf where it was uncovered by the duvet. “If wallowing is what you want to do today, then sure. I will keep you company while you do it. But could you move it to the sofa? I’m trying to crack the spine of my PhD today.”
I fell onto my back so that there was no chance of Addie seeing the tear escape down my cheek. “I can’t wallow while you write. I’ve got work.”
“Ah, no, you don’t. Dad heard what happened and called last night after you went to bed to check in. He said that under no circumstances are you allowed to go to work today. I was worried that I was going to have to tie you down to make sure you stayed put. But you did me a favour, because your shift technically started an hour ago.”
I lurched up too quickly, and the room started spinning.
“There’s water on your bedside table,” Addie said, nodding towards it.
I reached for it blindly and took grateful gulps. The water was still cold, just how I liked it.
“Thanks. And, I guess, thanks for everything else as well. Yesterday. Dealing with me. I’m sorry I was such a mess.”
