Starting again

Aimee came over this afternoon to say goodbye for now. She’s headed to the east coast, seeking treatment for an addiction that has wrestled her to the ground (for now) and has robbed her of her health. She hopes to regain some semblance of control and be able to launch her career as an artist from a different point on the planet. Maybe this time….  

She hadn’t seen my piano, and she enjoyed playing it for a while. I had Bach's C Major Prelude sitting out, a piece she remembers playing years ago. She could actually play it; I leave it out for inspiration.

We talked about Sinéad O’Connor and the importance of speaking the truth, hiding nothing, keeping no secrets: because secrets always benefit perpetrators of abuse, not their victims. Aimee's mother died in a car accident when Aimee was eighteen months old, and she was then tossed from one family member to another till she was 18. Aimee experiences emotional states that differ from those of the average person, if there is such a thing as an average person. Physicians call it Borderline Personality Disorder and ADHD, and Aimee says it’s exhausting, but she wants to see if she can re-start her life in another place, if she can just get out from under this addiction.

As she was leaving she said, “In case we don’t see each other again, I want you to know that I’ve learned from you how to learn. I’ve learned that it’s important to be quiet sometimes. And that I’m worth saving.”