I looked at her, letting her words hit me properly. Then I smiled.
“?‘I love that you get cold when it’s seventy-one degrees out,’?” I said. “?‘I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you’re looking at me like I’m nuts—’?” She interrupted me with a kiss before I could finish the movie line, and her face softened.
“I love you, too,” she said, touching my face. “Now shut up for a minute so I can read.”
—
I want you to know that I get that reading whatever is on my mind isn’t an easy thing for someone else to do. It probably changes you a little, having to get into people’s heads every day. I get it, and I’m glad that you were here to read this stuff because being me is actually pretty lonely.
I always made it seem like our sessions were this huge drag that I wanted to avoid, but that was a lie. They weren’t. And neither were you.
You’re good at your job. And even though I didn’t work out the way everyone wanted me to, it wasn’t your fault. It’s not anybody’s fault. I could’ve been a lot worse without you. So thanks.
Oh, and you know what I completely forgot to tell you? I sent in my Knights of Columbus essay.
Ha. Yeah, when I got back from the hospital, the packet arrived in the mail, and even though I knew I wasn’t going back to that school, I thought I’d do that one last piece of homework. Just for fun. I didn’t even tell Maya I was sending it in.
So I answered their stupid question—“What is the real message of the Catholic Church?”—with a little something I picked up at St. Agatha’s.
JESUS LOVES YOU.
Don’t be a homo.
Rupert and Basil couldn’t stop laughing when they read that. There was a definite note of pride when they clapped me on the back.
And that’s all I wrote. Damn, I would have loved to have seen their wrinkly old prune faces when they read it. Of course, even if they told any of my teachers about it, the nuns would just say that I was mentally ill and they should pray for me. I prefer “crazy” to “mentally ill.” Sounds more dignified.
When I walked into your office this afternoon, I hope I didn’t freak you out. I hope that you don’t think I started talking to you because I’ve given up. Because I haven’t. I just realized that I don’t have any reason to fight you anymore. I don’t have to pretend that I don’t need you or that I’m too damaged.
I also realize that all I said out loud today was, “Good news. I’m still crazy, so you still have a job.” But, you know, baby steps.
Alas, adventure calls, Doc. It’s been real.
But actually, I’ve got a train to catch.
See you on Wednesday, right?
I am not a doctor, and ToZaPrex is not a real drug. Adam’s experience is loosely based on documented symptoms of schizophrenia, but a great deal of creative license was taken to describe his auditory and visual hallucinations. While Adam’s story is fiction, schizophrenia is a serious and complicated disorder that affects millions of people worldwide. It is important to note that the vast majority of people battling this mental illness are not violent and do not pose a danger to others. The disorder can manifest itself in a variety of ways, and though there is no cure, there are promising treatments available.
If you are suffering from a mental illness and need to talk to someone, please contact the National Alliance on Mental Illness:
1-800-950-NAMI (6264) or [email protected]
Do not be afraid to ask for help if you need it. You are not alone.
And let the thank-yous begin….
Heather Flaherty, my fantastic agent, who rescued me from a life of insurance customer service in my sad little cubicle. Your candor, kindness, and unwavering support have changed my life forever.
Chelsea Eberly, my magnificent editor, who fought valiantly for Adam from the beginning, and all the talented people at Random House who helped make this book possible.
My first editing council: Kortney Bolton, Katie Skinner, Michael Skinner, Laura Horrocks, Brooke Tabshouri, Britt Booth, and Jennifer Lowe. Thank you for being my first readers. Your feedback gave me the courage to send Adam’s story out into the world.
Jennifer Longo and Peter Brown Hoffmeister, for reading during the final edits and supporting Adam’s story with kind words!
Dr. Edward Fang and Dr. Nancy Fang, for patiently answering my questions about clinical trials and intensive therapy.
My in-laws, Doug and Margaret, whose love and support despite my lack of common sense have made me a semifunctional adult. Mahalo for saving me from myself!
My parents, Mike and Linda, for reading me stories and filling my head with lovely nonsense, so much so that I’m now unfit to do anything practical. Many thanks, parental units.
And of course, my husband, Doug, and my daughter, Alexandria, for making my life beautiful.