He began to map out the idea for the design. I let him work in silence, observing as he put curled lines and intricate loops onto the paper. When he was done, he turned the pad around to show me.
I nodded. “It’s perfect.”
I liked it. It was really girly, but I also thought it signified Oberi. The design said something about being really strong when you didn’t have any other choice. He’d definitely put his feelings into it, and that’s what made the tattoo so heartfelt. The design was complicated and would take time to finish tattooing.
Good. It would give me some time to talk to him, and this conversation was going to be a deep one. I didn’t want him running off until I got my point across. Marcus wouldn’t leave a piece of art unfinished, even if he hated it. It wasn’t in him. Sohe’d stick around to finish the tattoo even if he didn’t like what was being said, and there were some things he needed to hear.
I laid my arm on the table. Marcus bent over and began to draw. The cool edge of the quill’s tip laid ink into my skin, and the familiar feeling of getting a massage drifted across my wrist.
I didn’t know how to start the conversation, until Marcus said quietly, “I don’t know what I’m going to do now. She was the center of my universe.”
If that didn’t cut me through. An image of Charlie suddenly vanishing broke into my head, and I felt completely gutted. “I’m sorry, Marcus. I wish it could’ve turned out differently.”
“Doesn’t matter. I guess it’s over now.”
“Itdoesmatter, Marcus.” I wanted to cry for him, because this was terrible, but I managed to keep myself together. “Kallie and Charlie aren’t like us. They think with their heads, and we think with our hearts.”
“Is that why she did what she did?”
He stopped drawing to look up at me. His eyes were so full of heartbreak. It was like looking into the eyes of a little kid. He seemed like a little boy who’d been abandoned, and he didn’t feel the need to mask it around me like he did the others. It showed.
I was honored he felt he could be that vulnerable with me. But we understood each other like that. “Marcus, she asked Charlie to break your bond because she physically couldn’t hold on any longer. I know her— she tried, with everything in her. If she had remained bonded to you, it would’ve eventually killed her. I know you don’t want that for her.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I understand. I always knew I was bad for her.”
Impatience flared within my chest, but I placed it aside. “It’s not about that, Marcus. You’re bad for her because youbelieveyou are. You could’ve made a different decision. But now that it’s over, you’ve gotta think about what you want to do next. Notwhat you and her are going to do, butyou, and the life you want to live. That’s the only thing that counts from this point out.”
“Why does it matter if I’m not with her?” he asked. “Everything’s pointless now.”
I knew his mental health was on the edge. I completely got it, because I understood what it was like to feel like you were free-falling through life with no way to see the bottom, or know if the impact was going to hurt once you finally got there.
“It’s not pointless. You don’t need her to be yourself.”
“But it feels like I need her to keep breathing,” he argued. “Logically, consciously, I know Kallie loves me. Iknowwe belong together. But there’s something inside of me that can’t accept it, and I always felt like she was going to leave me, so why make it permanent if I’m just holding out to be abandoned? I feel like I have to test her loyalty, even though I know that’s unfair. I don’twantto be this way, and I don’t know why I am. But I can’t make this go away, no matter how hard I try to logic my way out of it.”
He gave a shaking sigh. “My dad’s got depression, and he promised me if I went on meds this weight on my shoulders would be lifted. But I feel like it’s never been heavier. He doesn’tgetme. And I thought that Kallie did, but I ended up being too much for her.”
This was the part where I prayed he wouldn’t run away. I’d suspected this for a while, but hadn’t been sure until tonight. “Marcus, maybe you were misdiagnosed. Maybe it’s not depression. Maybe it’s BPD.”
“What’s that?” He shook his hair out of his eyes and looked up.
“Borderline Personality Disorder is?—”
“Oh, that’s great, so it’s a personality disorder, like narcissism,” he grumbled. “I’m an even shittier person than I thought.”
“Let me talk,” I said gently, and he shut up. “As I was saying, being borderline is a pattern of having unstable and explosive emotions. It messes with self-image, makes people impulsive, and leads to having chaotic relationships with others. People who are borderline can’t tolerate being alone. They feel empty often, get angry at inappropriate times, self-harm, and have an intense fear of being abandoned. Suicide attempts are common with untreated BPD, too. Sometimes, it can masquerade as depression, though that’s not really what it is. Maybe that’s why nobody’s caught it.”
“I mean, it sure sounds like me,” he said. “But I’m still not convinced it’s that bad.”
“Itisthat bad. Marcus, look at how it presents. You’re always talking shit about yourself, you have a hard time controlling your anger, and you’re always afraid you’re going to get left, to the point you blow up your own relationships with the people you care about the most.”
“But how do you know this is something I potentially have?” he pressed.
I wasn’t surprised he was in denial. There were times I tried to talk myself into believing I didn’t have bipolar, either, but it never worked. “It’s just a guess. But I spent a lot of time in and out of the mental hospital growing up, and I know what it looks like. I’ve seen other patients with it.”
He scowled. “I don’t want these labels. I’m so sick of being told something is wrong with me.”
“I’ve been labeled my whole life. I didn’t like my diagnosis at first, either, but I learned that the label isn’t about marginalizing ourselves, but about making sense of it, so we can find the tools that work for us,” I explained. “Without my bipolar label, I wouldn’t understand what was going on with me, or how to manage it. I think you need to see a psychiatrist and seek a formal diagnosis so you can get the help you need. You needmood stabilizers. Your antidepressants aren’t enough. They might not even be the right prescription for you.”
