A Room of Their Own Rakefet Yarden (top 10 novels of all time TXT) 📖

his questions about my future. “We’ll see,” I told him. Then I added to myself, first you need to hear about the memories that resurface within me, Dad.

This time they were memories, not dreams. When the realization first hit me, I felt deceived, betrayed. As though I’d spent my entire life with someone who made me think that these were dreams, or my imagination. But I no longer felt deceived. I felt that this was part of my story, that he had always made sure to say I had a vivid imagination, that he knew how to plant little seeds of guilt and self-flagellation within me from a very young age, and that this all must just be a part of the process. That now I’m sufficiently prepared to understand that these aren’t dreams, that I’m not crazy, but rather wounded, like Rotem said. Wounds can be healed. I was supposed to meet Rotem the next morning. She was back from her retreat. I decided that once I finished there, I’d start looking for a place where I could volunteer or work, or maybe study. Then we could start thinking about how to tell Dad.

Back with You Again

I’m walking around in a huge prison, trying to find someone who can help me get out, and trying to understand why I’m even there. I pace the long hallways, entering vast, empty spaces. Lots of women, thin and overweight, black and white, are sitting around chatting and not really doing anything but looking at me mockingly. I feel that I don’t belong there, that I’m not one of them, but I can’t make sense of it. I repeatedly approach people, but no one pays any attention to me.

The alarm went off and I opened my eyes with a heavy sense of anguish. It was 8:00. I had almost an hour to get dressed and have breakfast, take Miko out for a walk and leave for Rotem’s clinic, which was only a few blocks away from Tal’s apartment. I knew that I’d be leaving Miko at home today instead of taking him with me to Rotem’s so I could better concentrate during the session. I had a lot that I wanted to discuss with her. We hadn’t had a session in nearly a month, except for a few short phone calls where she asked how I was doing and made sure I’d meet Mikki, my new dietician.

I took my little backpack and left the apartment. The warm air of a springtime morning welcomed me as I left the building, and I tried to start organizing my thoughts in preparation for the meeting.

I knocked on her door in my usual way − hesitantly, careful not to invade an unwanted space.

“Dani,” Rotem opened the door with a big grin. It looked like she wanted to hug me, but she remained cautious. I smiled. I was glad to see her. “So? How does it feel to be free?”

“I feel relieved. I’m so happy with this decision. I really am. It’s such a nightmare to be in a place where they constantly tell you what to do and invade your privacy during your most intimate moments. Besides, the way I see it, there’s nothing healthy or healing about spending the entire day dealing with what I ate, what I drank, and how much weight I gained. I know that I still need to gain some more, but I prefer to do it at the same time as living my life.”

“And what was it that made the difference, compared to before the hospitalization, when you weren’t able to break your fasts?”

“The time that I spent at the unit, and the physical symptoms, which are the same as rehab during the first two weeks. Intense stomach cramps, accelerated heart rate. Getting back to eating is very difficult on a physical level, too, but mainly on a mental level, and I know that I couldn’t have accomplished it at home on my own,” I answered, feeling sad, yet accepting of the situation. I wish I were strong enough to do it on my own, I thought to myself.

“Great. I’m really pleased. We’ll work together on making sure that you keep gaining and growing, and that you don’t start regressing and wilting. We’ll keep a watchful eye, together. And now that we’ve added Mikki to our crew, the three of us will beat this.” She gave a mischievous smile and asked, “And how is it at Tal’s apartment?”

“A little weird, but also nice. I suddenly realized that we also know how to be sisters who are close to each other, and I’ve also discovered that she knows how to share, that she has a whole world of emotions and depth, unlike the way I’d always thought of her: successful, cold, and disconnected from her inner world. Apparently I was wrong. You could say that I’m rediscovering her. And I keep thanking her for letting me into her home. I don’t take that for granted at all. I just hope she won’t get tired of me too quickly. I need to think about what I’ll do, because this isn’t a long-term solution, as nice as it is. I’m scared that it’ll suddenly blow up and anyway, I need to figure out what I want to do with my life.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“I don’t know. That we’ll argue or something. Or worse, that she’ll get tired of me but won’t know how to break the news to me. That she’ll feel uncomfortable, and then I’ll become this burdensome creature who isn’t aware of its place. That’s a pathetic state, and I can’t bear to imagine myself like that. It sends shivers down my spine.”

“That bad?”

“Yes.”

“Are you not allowed to be helped? Can’t people make an effort for your sake?”

“Of course. I’m doing just that. But not to the point that I become a burden.”

Just One Reason to Live

“You’re right about finding a goal. However, appeasing your father or