dissociation

Disconnect – 27 December 2000 – 3.55AM

Soul Destruction - Diary of a London Call Girl

I can’t sleep. Mickey’s snoring, lying next to me in my bed. The noise he’s making isn’t what’s keeping me awake. Although we’ve been shooting smack this evening, the images are still in my head. I felt guilty after I tried to overdose the other day, but right now, I’m back in that place again. I can’t get any peace. I can’t escape the past. I’ve flown to the other side of the world and nothing’s changed. What an idiot I am thinking that would make a difference. I feel compelled to bang my head against the wall. I haven’t done that for years, not since I was a teenager.

I’m crying silently. It’s something I learned to stop the babysitters coming back upstairs after they’d abused me. At first when I used to cry, one or more would come back up. They’d sit on my bed, put me on their lap and hold my body against theirs. I hated it. I hated their hands on me. I thought there was something wrong with me back then, that this is what happens to all the children in the world. They all liked it, but there was something wrong with me because I didn’t. That’s what they told me. That’s why I learned to cry silently.

Who am I fooling here? Me or Mickey? I’m not going to be able to do this. No matter how kind and patient he is, and I’ve already seen that he is, it’s never going to work. Sex is something I do to men I don’t know, men I don’t like, and bar a handful of exceptions, men I don’t find attractive. I do like Mickey and I do find him attractive. I can’t do it to him. That’s not how it works. And even if I could, what happens after he finds out I’m a hooker. He probably won’t be interested then. I can’t take the rejection, not from him and especially after that.

I take a sip from the glass of water on the bedside table. I can’t stay in this bed awake any longer. I can’t fucking do it. I pick up my cigarette packet and my lighter and sneak into the bathroom. I close the door and turn on the light. Standing with my back to the wall, I start rocking. Gently, I’m banging the back of my head against the tiles. As I increase the force, the pain in my head takes over from the pictures.

Then I think of Milly. The bad example I set her. If I hadn’t done it, she wouldn’t be in the state she is now. What that bastard did, it would never have happened, not to her. It’s all my fault. I failed her. I fucking failed her. It should have been me. I throw my head back. I’m losing control. I want to smash it. I want everything to end.

“No, Nicole, don’t.” Mickey grabs my shoulders. “Come here.” He pulls me away from the wall.

“I want to be dead. I don’t deserve to be here.” My crying isn’t silent now. It’s echoing in the bathroom.

He wraps his arms around me. His body is pressing against mine. He holds me tight. I can’t bear being touched. I want to feel close to him. I can trust him. But his hands are on me. His chest is against mine. His hips are against mine. I feel the protrusion at his crotch. His boxer shorts and my nightdress aren’t… This is too close. I shuffle backwards. There’s space between our legs but it’s not enough.

“I’m sorry,” I say. Placing my hands on his chest, I push him away.

“Come in the bedroom and sit down. We can talk. Whatever it is, it’s best to get it out.”

“I can’t.” My body is stiff. I’m stuck to the spot.

“I’ll just hold you then.”

That’s what I want, but when he gets that close, an internal siren blasts the loudest warning.

He takes my hand. “Come in the bedroom. My feet are getting cold.” He smiles.

I realise my feet are cold too. The sensation makes me slightly more present in my body, more like my adult self and less like the child who took me over. The air conditioning must be on too high. I let go of his hand and walk into the suite. I twist the air conditioning control, turning it down.

Mickey sits on the edge of the bed. “Come here. We should talk.” He pats the space next to him.

“I’m too tired,” I say, getting into the other side of the bed. I pull the duvet over me. I know I’m not going to be able to sleep, but I lie down and close my eyes. I’ll have to pretend.

Surplus to Requirements – 26 December 2000 – 7.55PM

Soul Destruction - Diary of a London Call Girl

Mickey’s waiting outside the Radisson for me. I’m in a phone booth in the lobby. My backside aches from sitting on the lightly padded seat so long. I was on a call to my brother, Enda, for ages, convincing him that I’m okay and looking after myself. He said Milly was doing better. She’s out of hospital now, staying with him, and Susie’s helping to look after her too. I’m pleased and relieved they’re coping without me but I was the mother to my brother and sisters. I feel redundant and I am.

“In the state I’m in, I’m useless to them,” I say to Dr Fielding who I’m on a call to now.

“You’re not useless, Nicole.” Dr Fielding’s voice is gentle and calm, like my mother’s used to be before she started drinking. “How many days clean from heroin are you? It can’t be more than a week.”

“About that,” I say. I don’t usually lie to her, but I don’t want a lecture. I’ve also decided not to tell her about what happened the other night after the party in Dee Why. There’ll be another lecture about drinking too much. Regardless, if I don’t talk about it, it’ll be easier to forget. Although I must remember to get tested at a clinic soon.

“It’s early days. I’d say give yourself a break. Enjoy the holiday. You can’t do anything from the other side of the world.”

“I want to talk to you about something else. That’s why I called. I’ve met someone, a man.”

“And how’s that been for you?”

“Nothing’s happened yet.” I pick at a spot on my chin. “He held me before, like he hugged me when we were lying down, and I went away – that dissociation thing. It took ages to come back. It was awful. ”

“How are you feeling now?”

“I don’t feel like myself but I feel more like me than I did before. I want him to touch me. I want to… How can I stop it happening again?”

“It’ll take time. I’d say take it slowly. You’ll need to build up trust so you feel safe. Remember, that’s been your coping mechanism for most of your life. You might not need it, but it’s become an automatic response. We can work on it more when you come back to London.”

I thank her for her time and end the call. But it’ll be too late when I’m back in London. And anyway, I don’t know when I’m going back. I haven’t decided. I’m not needed in London anymore. Maybe I’ll stay here.

I run across the hotel lobby and out through the automatic doors. When we arrived, it was light outside. I’ve been on the phone so long, now it’s getting dark. Mickey takes my hand. It feels okay. I like it. With my hand in his, we walk to his van parked up the road.

I’m craving a hit and finally, we can go to the dealer. While we were in my suite earlier, I picked up my purse – that’s what we came back for. Although I have enough cash to pay for the gear we’re buying, I’ve told Mickey I need to go to a cash point. I always like having a few hundred pounds on me, or as I’m in Australia, dollars. I feel safer when I’ve got money, like I feel safer when I’m wearing high heels.

Unlike the Rest – 26 December 2000 – 6.10PM

Soul Destruction - Diary of a London Call Girl

I flick my cigarette ash out the window. Me and Mickey are sitting in the front of the van. We were in the back for hours. I was stuck there. I felt frightened. As soon as he held me, that’s when it happened – I went off somewhere in my head.

Dissociation – that’s what Dr Fielding says it is, when I disappear like that. It’s taken a longer time than usual to come back. Piece by piece, it’s happening slowly. I can speak again now and I can move my body. Mickey was patient and understanding. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t that. I’m used to men criticising and judging me. I’m used to angry men, men who only want one thing from me. Mickey’s different. He’s a good man.

We’re still parked on the side road near where his connection lives in Narrabeen. It’s peaceful here. Cars are parked up but there’s none driving by. The street is lined with trees. The trees in Australia seem brighter shades of green than the trees back in England. I could imagine living here, being near the sea. I like being by the sea. I like the sound of it.

We shot up the last of the heroin before coming to sit in the front. We need to score some more. My money’s at the Radisson. I didn’t put my purse in the white handbag I’m using today. Mickey said he’d drive back to the hotel as soon as I felt ready. I feel ready now. I tell him, and he starts the engine.

He’s been completely hands-off with me since what happened in the back of the van. I’m sure he’s going to keep it up. But there is a part of me that’s scared he’ll do something that makes me disappear again. I can manage him holding my hand. When he did that at the party, it wasn’t a problem. It was okay when I woke up with him this morning as well. It was the expectation of something sexual that caused it.

It’s so strange because if Mickey was a punter, I could’ve acted the part and done the job. Being with a normal man in a normal way isn’t something I’m comfortable with. It fucks up my head that I’m more comfortable being with a client even though I hate it.

Earlier, Mickey said we could just be friends, but I want more than that if it’s possible for me. He said he did too. But it won’t work between us if I keep disappearing. He won’t put up with that. What man would? And I’m sure I can’t cope with it happening either.

I know I’m not cursed but that’s how it feels. I want to be like most other women. But can a woman who’s had a life like mine ever be like other women?