Not all the time. Thank god. How much time do I have left before she leaves? If she leaves. I can’t even go down the thought trail if if she would die. So I don’t and choke instead. And tell myself: stop it, of course everything is gonna be ok. I pray to God, to Mary, to all saints in the heavens and mom to please help me baby girl to find peace and joy. Ach.

We are in the car. Only the two of us, so no escape door, window, trap. And that’s why it makes for great conversation. Both parties know that you have to sit with the consequences of words spoken.

On a scale from 1-10 where would you place your mental health?

3 or maybe 1

I stare at her and then back at the road. I’m in shock. I wasn’t expecting that. I had thought I’d be at a low 5 at worst.

Oh..but how was it then last year? I mean last year you talked a lot about feeling down and wanting to kill yourself. What would you were then?

A 5 maybe 7. I’m just not telling you about it now.

Oh. And do you know what is bringing you down?

No. I don’t know.

Are you cutting yourself?. I remembered the 4 perfectly equidistant and length cut lines I saw on her leg in the changing booth. She hasn’t wanted me to accompany her and wanted to show me pics instead. Which I thought was ridiculous. Maybe this was why? I choose not to say something then. I didn’t want to spoil the moment. She looked lovely in the suit jacket and I could see she was enjoying to see herself in it. At the next show, again in the booth she had pulled her socks up so the cut lines were no longer visible. She laughed at the look of her dress with the doc Martin looking boots.

The highway lights blur past.

Are you afraid that you are going to be abondonned?

Yeah.

By me? By dad?

You. Dad.

But I’m here. You know that I wouldn’t leave you.

Yeah.

So is it dad?

I don’t want to talk about dad with you!

“Ok. You don’t have to. Do you want to talk to someone?”

Yeah. But not you.

Ok, so you want to talk to Cecilia? Cloe? Who

No, not Cloe

Someone professional?

Yeah that would be good. And what’s up with this sudden interest in my mental health?

I’m confused now. How could she even be thinking that??

Hey, I love you! I’m always interested in how you are doing and trying to figure out how I can help. But I can’t do the work for you.

I slow down as there is speed camera here. We are moving along so the silence is tolerable. I’m telling my mind to remain calm. That every thing is ok. It’s all going to be ok.

Now I’m in bed. And I finally get to cry. I feel sorry for her, for me, and I wonder what I have done wrong. What could I have done differently? And what the fuck am I supposed to do now? Monday we have the meeting with the neuropsychologist. She think she may be borderline. I read several times what it means but I don’t get it. I don’t know if it’s because it’s emotionally to hard to accept or because it’s genuinely hard to understand. It’s seems really a broad term – like autism. Breathe ma biche, breathe Ulrika. Easy, easy. All you can do is your best. And have faith. Faith in Audrey, faith in yourself and all around. And my hod did she look pretty. I was even allowed to take a picture. A true rarity now a days.