"Melanie?"
No response. "Melanie? Sweetheart?" the voice asked again, this time catching her attention and bringing her back from her thoughts. Melanie glanced around at the group she was seated in a circle with, and the woman sitting near her with the clipboard, smiling at her, clearly attempting to involve her in the discussion. Melanie cleared her throat and stopped chewing on her nails. She was dressed in a knit turtleneck and jeans, and her hair was braided. She didn't look like the same woman who, just a handful of months ago, had been a disheveled, completely confused mess of a person. "I...I don't really know what to say," she started. "Well, just tell us how you're feeling," the woman said, "How has this week been?" "This week? Just this week? Same as every week. Weird, and...not....right," Melanie said, "Nothing feels real anymore. I...I don't think this sort of thing is good for me, and I don't think this medication is working, nothing is working for me, only against me." "Melanie," the woman, Roberta, leaned forward and cupped her hands in her lap, smiling as she added, "You were suggested to come to group therapy because it was considered better for you, socially, to be around others so you could see you weren't the only one struggling with things. Everyone here struggles with some kind of derealization, dissociation or some other variety of unreality disorder. You're among friends. So talk to us, tell us about you. Tell us how you were and how you've been." "Uh," Mel said, clearing her throat, sitting back and folding her arms, clearly uncomfortable, "I'm...I was fine, before I was told to come here, but now everyone is telling me I'm incredibly sick, so, that's making me unhappy, ironically." "What was wrong with you?" the teenage girl sitting beside her, her legs pulled up to her chest, asked. "What wasn't wrong with me?" Mel sarcastically replied, "...I thought I was a princess. Not...not in the way a lot of girls say they're princesses, I mean a literal princess. I used to...I used to honestly believe that I came from a castle, and my father was the king, and that one day I'd return home after finding my prince charming. I see now that that was just a coping mechanism I used to work through the grief surrounding my fathers death. I liked princesses, he played into it, called me his princess, let me wear princess dresses whenever and wherever I wanted, and it just felt like the fairytale was better than reality." A hush fell over the group, as Melanie lowered her head and whispered. "Still probably would be too," she added. She didn't speak for the rest of the meeting. *** "Look, they have donuts," Gus said, pointing at the table as they entered the room, making Beatrice smirk. "Those are for addicts, dude," she said. "I'm an addict. I'm addicted to donuts," Gus said, reaching for them before feeling Bea's hand on his arm, tugging him away from the table, chuckling to herself as they continued into the room, looking around for Melanie. Gus slid his hands in his pockets and exhaled. "I've never been to something like this before," he said, "Like...have you? Can you give me some pointers?" "Sure, what kind of pointers you want? Ones for a guest, or ones for a member? Because I've been both," Bea said, making Gus's eyebrow raise; she smirked and offered up an explanation, saying, "Before I became the Black Knight at the faire, I was just...you know...aimlessly drifting. Like...I had ideas of what I'd like to do, but what I really liked to do was get black out drunk and then call up people who had wronged me and let them have it. Obviously this isn't socially acceptable." "I should think not, though it really should be," Gus replied. "It should! Yes, thank you!" Bea said, laughing, "But as a guest, all you have to do is show up. Showing up at all is showing that you care. Though I gotta say...this is kind of a weird date." "Is this a date?" Gus asked. "I mean, did we not just have sex before we came here?" Bea asked. "I like to think of it more as exercise," Gus said, making her laugh again, "Hey, there she is." The two started walking over to where Mel was sitting, while all the other members of group had gotten up and begun to talk amongst themselves, almost in a party mingling manner, but Melanie clearly had no interest in doing such a thing. Gus and Bea sat beside her, each one in a chair on each side, and Gus slowly put his hand on her back, rubbing it gently. "You guys don't think I'm crazy, right?" Melanie asked quietly, "I...I know I'm not well, but I'm not-" "There's no stigma attached to being crazy, not any that's legitimate anyway," Bea said, "You're just you. Nothing wrong with having mental disorders, they're just a part of who you are. It's important to maintain them so you don't hurt yourself and don't hurt others, intentionally or otherwise, but they're not bad or wrong." Mel rolled her head towards Bea and waited. "...thank you," she said, "That...actually made me feel better." Melanie stood up, excused herself to the restroom, and left them alone. Gus crossed his legs, folded his arms and looked at Bea with a smirk. She glanced over at him with an odd look on her face. "What?" she asked, half laughing. "Awww. You're empathetic, how pathetic," Gus said. "You're such an ass," she laughed, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek. The bathroom wasn't hard to find, especially now that she'd been coming here for a while. As she finished her duty and went to the sink to wash her hands, she heard a stall door open behind her, and turned her head to see another young woman, in dark green slacks and a plain black v-neck, her long curly auburn hair bouncing as she walked up to the sink herself and started washing her hands as well. "They're wrong, you know," she said softly, "Those people in group. Reality isn't the only way to live." "I believe that, but everyone wants me not to, and I'm tired of being a nuisance to everyone, so," Mel whispered. "You're not a nuisance because you're sick," the woman said, "You're a nuisance because they're too close minded. I dealt with the same thing as you, actually. When I was a little girl, my dad used to read me bedtime stories filled with fantastical efforts about dragons and wizards and princesses, and then when he died, I just retreated into the safety of the worlds he showed me because it felt like he was still there somehow." "I know what you mean," Melanie replied, turning the sink off and grabbing some paper towels, wiping her hands down; as she tossed them into the wastebasket, she turned back to the woman and added, "It's not denying reality, it's a coping mechanism, and aren't those healthy so long as you don't actively hurt others?" "Exactly my point," the woman said, holding her hand out, "I'm Lisa, by the way. It's nice to meet you, your majesty." "Hah! Likewise," Melanie said, shaking her hand. Maybe Gus was right. Maybe coming to therapy wasn't all that bad after all. *** "What is this?" Emma asked, holding up a brochure. Darren was stopped in his tracks, despite sitting at his desk in their home office, and sighed. He rubbed his forehead and then turned in his chair towards her. She was standing in the doorway, one hand on her hip and a look of irritant on her face. "Listen," he started, but she quickly interrupted. "Oh boy, anything that ever starts with 'listen' is never a good thing." He chuckled and continued, "Seriously, it's just...something I wanted to discuss." "You know I don't want a family," Emma said, "So what's left to discuss?" "I thought, maybe, the problem was the actuality of getting pregnant and that, perhaps, if we adopted-" "The problem isn't how to do it, it's doing it at all, how is that so complex to understand?" Emma asked, sounding annoyed. Darren sighed, stood up and walked to her, putting his arms around her and hugging her tight, kissing the top of her head. "I won't bring it up again," he said quietly, "If you're really that certain, than it's a moot point." "Thank you," she replied. Darren wanted to make her happy...but at what cost? His own happiness? All these years they'd spent together, and now this one seemingly small difference might make the biggest rift between them? That seemed cosmically unfair, but he knew he loved her. He knew he wanted her far more than he wanted kids. Maybe, he hoped - despite knowing full well in the depth of his gut - that she'd come around one day, but if she didn't, could he live with the regret? Only time would tell. "I'm going to the store to get something for dinner," Emma said, backing away, "I'll be back in a bit." "Alright," Darren said, sitting back down and watching her exit the room. When he heard the car start, and heard it drive off down the road, he did the only thing he could do at this point. He wept like a child. *** As Melanie, Gus and Bea headed up the stairs to the level of their apartments, Melanie couldn't help but think about the woman she'd met in the bathroom, Lisa. She was saying the exact opposite of everything Melanie was being told was true, and yet she believed her moreso than those telling her the opposites. Melanie wasn't an idiot, she knew what confirmation bias was, but this was something deeper, something...something more real. She could hear Gus and Bea laughing behind her as they reached the landing, and headed to their respective apartments. Gus waved bye, opened the door and he and Bea vanished into his place, as Melanie struggled to find her keys. A loud thump down the hall caught her attention, and she turned to see a man setting down a large box. He was an older man, somewhat balding, large thick rimmed glasses, but well dressed. She gave up on her attempts to find her key and instead headed down the hall towards him. "Are you moving in?" she asked, "Do you want some help?" "That would be absolutely appreciated, thank you so much," the man said, "I'm Allen." "Melanie. I live just a few doors down," she said, turning and pointing to her own apartment, "Let me see what I can help you with." After the two managed to bring in a collection of boxes, some light furniture and other miscellaneous things, the stood in the living room and admired the space. Melanie looked around, smiling as she felt the sun shine through the big open window and splash against her face. "This is a really nice apartment," she said, "I just always assumed they were all the same." "I'm lucky to get such a space for such a good price," Allen replied. "What do you do?" "I'm a photographer, you?" "I'm..." but she stopped herself, cleared her throat and finished, "I'm between employment at the moment." "Ah, well, best of luck to you then, it's bad out there lately," Allen said. Melanie turned and began to head on out. As she pulled the door shut behind her, she saw Gus and Bea exiting his apartment, pulling their coats on. They stopped and Gus looked at her. "We're going out for something to eat, you wanna come with?" he asked. "Okay," she replied quietly. "What were you doing over there?" he asked, as they headed down the stairs. *** The three of them sitting in a local nearby pizzeria, Melanie only really pecking at her food while the others engulfed their slices, Gus couldn't help but feel like something was bothering her, more than usual. He finished chewing, wiped his hands and mouth on a napkin, tossed it onto the table and adjusted his glasses, leaning forward. "You look more depressed than normally," he said, "I know this whole therapy thing has been really weird for you, but...you know you can always talk to us." "I know," Mel said, a slight smile dancing on her lips as he said this, before she exhaled deeply and added, "It's just so hard to know whether I'm getting better for the sake of others or my own." "Can't it be both?" Bea asked. "I mean, I guess, but...people say I'm getting, so why don't I feel any better?" she asked, and Gus sighed, scratching his cheek. "I used to be a major alcoholic. It's kind of what broke up my family," Gus said, "Afterwards, I only drank even more heavily, until I moved into that apartment...until I met you. I don't think this applies to everyone going through recovery, but I think it helped me to have someone else to focus on. I made me realize I couldn't as regularly fulfill my own selfish desires because I needed to be there to help you, whether I wanted to or not, hah." Bea smiled and put her hand on his back, rubbing it gently. "You don't feel better because you aren't better. Once you get better, at least recognizably so, then you'll see just how far you've come, and you'll realize you feel like a much better person overall. You can take your life back from the thing that stole it. Right now? This isn't recovery. Recovery is at the end. Anything before that is just progress." Melanie nodded. He made a lot of sense, and she wanted to believe him, truly she did, but she also couldn't help but think about how Lisa felt the same way. How Lisa had told her that she had every right to cling to the 'fantasy', as they called it, because in the end, why can't you have both? Why must one face reality with such little escapism? "I'm gonna go get another slice," Gus said, standing up and leaving the table. As the girls watched him go, Bea then looked back at Melanie and smiled warmly. "You know, he's a really good guy, and he really does care about you," she said. "I know." "And, because I care about him, I care about you too," Bea continued, "We're your friends, whether you're ill or not." This made Melanie smile the widest she had all day. As Gus approached the counter, drumming his fingers on the slate, he heard a familiar voice and looked to a few tables past the counter to see Chiako sitting there with....a man? Gus headed away from the counter and over towards their table, where, upon arrival, they both looked up at him. Chiako's eyebrows raised in surprise, and she stood up to hug him. "Hey!" she said, her mouth half stuffed with pizza as she tried to finish chewing, "What're you doing here?" "....eating...pizza?" he replied, making them both laugh. "Stupid question, fair," Chiako said through laughter, "Uh, Gus, this is Jeremy, my...guy....I'm sleeping with but also have romantic feelings for." "Boy," Gus said, sliding his hands in his pockets, "You sure know how to tug at the heartstrings. I just saw you here and I...I guess I didn't know you were, you know...seeing anyone, hah." "Oh, actually, I'm going to need you to be with Leaf this coming week. We're going out of town, you're free right?" "Look at how I'm dressed, does it look like I have social obligations?" Gus remarked, making even Jeremy laugh a little; Gus added, "Yeah, I'd love to see her, honestly. Anyway, I was getting another slice, I just wanted to see you for a moment." "It's always nice running into you," Chiako said, "I'm glad you're doing well." "Yeah," Gus said, glancing over his shoulder at Bea, "Yeah, me too." *** "People believe in God without any proof, because it brings them peace of mind, so as long as they don't use that belief to hurt others, what's the big goddamned deal with believing what we believe?" Lisa asked, the next time the two women found themselves in the bathroom before the meeting started. "I guess maybe it depends on whether or not you acknowledge that your belief isn't real," Melanie said, sitting on the bathroom counter, chewing on her nails, "As long as you can tell the difference, then sure, what's the harm." "Except there is no difference," Lisa said. Melanie stopped chewing and looked at her. Lisa approached and put her hands on Mel's. "There is no difference. Who's to say what reality is. They're all wrong, your highness. We're right. We're who we say we are, and we can prove it to them. Don't you want to help me help you prove that you really were a princess like me all along?" Melanie looked into her eyes, and for the first time since starting therapy, she felt heard. It just happened to be by the wrong person.
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Royally Screwed follows 24 year old Melanie Irres, an average young woman...who legitimately believes she's a princess. Archives
July 2023
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