You’re just paranoid.

I couldn’t possible count the amount of times I have been told this. My friends, my manager, my partner and even my relatives. ‘You are just overreacting, he is ok. Stop worrying about him.’

I can’t. The overwhelming feeling of dread was intensified every minute that I was not speaking to him. In fact, when I eventually got a message from him or a phone call, I would cry. The sense of relief was real, my heart stopped pounding against my chest whilst I over analysed everything he said/wrote to me during an aftermath of the events that led me to this point. Questions upon questions I asked him about his state of mind and what actually happened just flow from my mouth and he answers them. Never concealing anything – just simply answers them. I knew everything and he knew to tell me everything because that’s just us, that’s our relationship.

When he was in trouble, miniature trouble or medium sized trouble – I was the first point of call. I had the powers of a parent, but the support and understanding of a Sister. I vividly recall calling Halifax and impersonating him to order him a new bank card, they believed me. He thought I had super powers at fixing situations, which sometimes I believed too. I could transfer money at the click of a button at any time of day, I could jump in my car and get to him, I could book a flight and be there 24 hours after him saying the simple words ‘please come over’.

When I needed information about him, no one questioned me, because if they knew me and knew him well enough they would know that he would want them to answer me. My intentions were only for his well-being and he was fully aware I would go above and beyond anyone, for him.

Why did I feel this way – Zachary is very unpredictable. He can have ups and downs especially when under the influence, other times he is ecstatic. When he is having a down day, he would tell me about it shortly after. He talked very openly about his feelings and in a way, I think that helped him. He had counselors and a psychiatrist, he enjoyed his sessions and practiced all the tools they gave him to help his anxiety. Obviously now, I am aware, they failed him.

They failed him as he was discharged from everyone of the services that he used, my mother even went down and begged them to rethink what they have done. Again, Zachary was very open about his feelings, he didn’t understand why he felt this way and wanted him. He actively went out and asked for help, to conquer what was wrong in his mind but he was tossed to the curb at aged 18 – he only wanted to understand why someone so beautiful could feel so ugly.

He never did get that answer.