Anxiety Girl Falls Again (Sadie Valentine - Book 2) Read online

  Anxiety Girl Falls Again

  Sadie Valentine Series

  Book 2

  Copyright © 2017 by Stacey Cartlidge

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  For Juliette; the bravest little girl I know.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  THE HARDER YOU FALL.

  THE STRONGER YOU RISE…

  Chapter 1

  Struggling to carry the final box up the garden path, I place it amongst the mountain of others and collapse into a heap on the couch. That’s it. That is literally everything I own. Looking around the crowded living room, a quiver of excitement runs through my veins as I realise this is where I live now. This quaint cottage is actually my home. After six long months of dealing with estate agents and solicitors, I finally have the keys in my hand. Blossom View is officially mine.

  Pulling over one of the cardboard boxes, I use it as a footstool and take in my new surroundings. The cream walls are littered with patchy squares from where photographs once hung and with a little elbow grease, the sash windows will be back to their best. Due to the age of the property, the ceilings are low and slightly wonky, with carvings from the many people who lived here before me etched into the woodwork. I strain my neck and try to decipher the faint lettering, fascinated by the thought of who put them there.

  Letting out a happy sigh, I smile to myself and snuggle into the cushions. I knew from the moment I stepped over the threshold that I had to have this place. It just felt so right to me. With its thatched roof and wooden beams, it spoke to me in a way the dozens of other properties I viewed never did. I could almost hear the walls screaming my name as I soaked up its original character and charm. Yes, it’s a little rough around the edges, but with a quick lick of paint here and there, Blossom View will be amazing.

  My friends have made no secret of their reservations about this place and I can’t say I blame them. They’re of the firm opinion that a new job, a new pet and a new home is a lot to deal with so soon after an episode. No matter how hard I try to convince them that I’m ready for this, I can still see the concern in their eyes when they speak to me. The intense look of worry that overcomes them is impossible to disguise.

  You see, just over six months ago, I went through a pretty rough time. The abrupt ending of my engagement marked the start of a very dark period in my life. I tried everything to move on and put the break-up behind me, but one unfortunate incident after the other made it excruciatingly difficult. My refusal to talk about how I was feeling led me down a frightening path that seemed impossible to get off. After a while, I started to believe the emptiness inside me was a normal feeling after the demise of a relationship. I assumed that the constant dread, which was eating away at my ability to function, was just part of the grieving process. It turns out, I was heading for a broken mind as well as a broken heart.

  Looking back, panic attacks are what made me realise something was ultimately wrong. The paralysing fear that ran through my body at the onset of an attack is something I will never forget. Thankfully, with the help of my best friend, various self-help techniques and some much-needed counselling, I am finally feeling like myself again.

  As strange as this may sound, I firmly believe that my experience with anxiety has made me a better person. My brush with mental illness changed my life in more ways than I could ever have imagined. Not only did it lead to my recent change in career, it gave me the keys to doors I never knew existed.

  Before anxiety and depression came crashing into my life, I never really thought about matters of the mind. It’s just not something you think about, is it? But since the day I was diagnosed, it has been at the forefront of my thoughts. For a short while, I was worried that I would never return to the person I was before and the truth is, I haven’t. I have changed, but I have changed for the better. Although, it wasn’t the anxiety that transformed me, it was the people I came into contact with at the support group.

  If it wasn’t for Anxiety Anonymous, I wouldn’t have made it through that phase in my life. I wouldn’t be here, in Blossom View. I wouldn’t have taken the time to learn about myself and I certainly wouldn’t have had the courage to alter the direction in which my life was going. My mind flits back to the day that I was offered the chance to become a counsellor and I marvel at how far I’ve come in such a short space of time.

  Deciding to commit my life to helping others was a much bigger task than I anticipated. After months of training programmes, revision and educational courses, I finally started to realise just how much is involved with my new career choice. It might not be the easiest job I could have picked, but now that I’ve fallen into it, I wouldn’t want to do anything else in the world. Through Anxiety Anonymous, I have met the most amazing people. People from all walks of life. People who are going through the same things I was going through and people who have taken the colossal step to reach out and ask for help. I still find it incredible to be on the other side of the circle. To be the one with the answers instead of the one with the questions is such an honourable position to be in.

  Prior to my breakdown, my life looked so very different to how it does today. Sometimes, I walk down the lane to my old apartment and just reminisce about my time there. Everything from side-splitting laughter to gut-wrenching heartache took place in that beautiful building. Not surprisingly, once I had made the decision to sell, I had numerous buyers throwing offers at me left, right and centre. That’s the beauty of living in Alderley Edge, property is always in high demand. The quick sale of my luxury apartment resulted in me staying with my best friend until I exchanged contracts on Blossom View.

  As many of you know, Aldo and I lived together in the apartment for many years. However, now that he is cohabiting with his fiancé, Edward, the dynamics of our relationship have ever so slightly changed. Watching Aldo rustle up home-cooked meals of an evening was a rather pleasant surprise. Apart from the odd frozen pizza, during the entire time we lived together, I don’t think I saw him use the oven once. A glass of fizz in one of Cheshire’s many glitzy restaurants was more our style.

  Despite Aldo’s sudden growth in maturity, we’re still as close as ever. In the p
ast, I have referred to him as my rock, my support network and my spirit animal, all rolled into one beautiful, homosexual package. Aldo Cristiano Taylor really is my favourite person on the planet.

  When I was in the throes of anxiety, Aldo was the only one who dedicated his time and energy to helping me through it. Realising how alone you can feel when mentally suffering is the main reason I decided to ditch the artwork and become a counsellor. Knowing that I’m helping people on a daily basis gives my life purpose. It gives me a reason to dive out of bed in the morning and actually use my time to make a difference.

  I’ve never believed in fate, destiny or anything else that was meant to be, but my roller coaster ride with anxiety has made me question my views. In less than a year, I’ve been through a mental breakdown, sold my apartment, became a counsellor and purchased a quaint cottage further down the lane. None of these were in my plans for the future, but as it turns out, I’m in the best position I have ever been in. I finally have a purpose, a path to follow and a goal to work towards.

  Taking a deep breath, I look down at the keys in my hand and feel my lips stretch into a smile. If the past twelve months have taught me anything, it’s that life is like a book. Every day is a new page, every month is a new chapter and every year is a new series. Some parts are better than others, but if you don’t dust yourself down and keep on reading, you will never know just how good your story is yet to become…

  Chapter 2

  Gently stirring, I slowly peel open my eyes and look up at the strange ceiling above me. The realisation that I’m no longer in Aldo’s spare room gives me a huge rush of adrenaline. Pushing myself up onto my elbows, I look around the bedroom and try to picture all of my belongings unpacked. Pulling the plush duvet up to my chin, I mentally remove the many cardboard boxes that are surrounding the bed. It’s half the size of my old bedroom, but strangely, it seems to hold twice as much.

  Instead of the open and almost clinical space I had grown accustomed to, this is cosy, unusual and seems to wrap its arms around you. The tiny stained-glass window casts a rainbow around the room, in an almost mythical way. I follow the array of colours that are dancing in the air and beam blissfully. It’s as far away from my old place as it could possibly be, but it couldn’t be more perfect if it tried. With a few subtle changes, I shall have this place looking like home in no time at all.

  Allowing myself a final stretch, I throw back the sheets and feel around for my slippers. The old floorboards creak beneath my feet as I make my way through the sea of boxes to the bathroom. Releasing the latch, I wander over to the sink and stare at my reflection. Even through the dusty mirror, I can see that my face is alight with happiness. My green eyes pop against the paleness of my skin as I take a tissue and wipe the glass clean. The sparkle that was missing from my face has returned and I can actually enjoy looking at myself again.

  Grabbing my toothbrush, I saunter around the room and make a mental list of everything that needs to be done to bring this place up to scratch. When I signed on the dotted line, I was so blinded by my love for the cottage that I didn’t really put much thought into it. I convinced myself that a pot of paint and a new pair of curtains was all it required, but now that it’s actually mine, I’m starting to see it in a new light. Maybe this is going to be a bigger job than I anticipated.

  Not having the time to worry about it now, I quickly freshen up and head back into the bedroom. I have eight hours until I’m due to host the Anxiety Anonymous meeting and I intend to use them wisely. After quickly scouring through the many boxes for a pair of jeans, I throw open the curtains and gather my hair into a ponytail. Standing at the foot of the bed, I rest my hands on my hips and wonder where to start.

  When I decided to sell the apartment, I had an almighty clear-out and left myself with what I thought were just the essentials, so I can’t quite believe how much I have brought with me. From stacks of DVDs to piles of shoes and overflowing containers of bric-a-brac. It’s amazing how much junk you can accumulate in twenty-six years.

  Suddenly regretting my decision to not label the boxes, I pull the first one towards me and flip open the lid. Just as I’m tearing through a mountain of bubble wrap, there’s a knock at the door. Squinting at my watch as I make my way down the stairs, I clap my hands together as I notice who’s here.

  ‘Hey!’ I exclaim, pulling open the door and throwing my arms around Aldo’s neck. ‘Where is he? Where’s Mateo?’

  Rolling his eyes dramatically, Aldo reaches behind him and picks up a small crate. ‘Don’t worry! I didn’t lose him. He’s right here…’

  Motioning for him to come inside, I take the crate and fiddle with the bolt. ‘How’s my favourite boy?’ I sing, reaching inside and cradling the white ball of fluff.

  ‘All those years of friendship to be replaced by a damn cat.’ Aldo grumbles, shaking his head and leaning against the doorframe.

  Flashing him a grin, I hold Mateo against my chest as he purrs happily. Delighted to be reunited with my little sidekick, I run my fingers through his coat as his piercing blue eyes narrow with glee. With yesterday being moving day, I asked Aldo to keep Mateo with him for the night whilst I settled in.

  Just like me, Mateo has also been through a pretty hard time. After spending the first few years of his life at a rather lovely house in the village, Mateo was left to fend for himself when his owner suddenly passed away. Sadly, he wandered the streets for months before someone brought him into the local animal sanctuary.

  It turns out, he was advertised in the local paper for weeks before I stumbled across the listing. The moment I saw his face staring back at me on the page, I just knew that he was meant for me. Aldo, on the other hand, wasn’t so keen on the idea. Especially when he realised the pair of us would be staying with him for a little while. Despite his vocal protests, he secretly loves Mateo. I’ve noticed the odd smile and discreet stroke he gives him when he thinks no one is looking.

  ‘How was he last night?’ I ask, finally putting Mateo down and laughing as he immediately dances around my ankles.

  ‘Loud. He meowed all night long.’ Aldo shoots him a scowl and folds his arms. ‘I thought you were unpacking?’ He adds, casting a glance around the cluttered stairway and frowning.

  ‘I made a start in the kitchen, but I must confess, I gave in to the lure of a glass of red early in the evening.’ Motioning for him to follow me into the living room, I watch Mateo inquisitively investigate his new home. ‘You can give me a hand in here, if you want?’

  ‘Well, I didn’t come over for a manicure…’ Tugging off his leather jacket, Aldo carelessly tosses it onto the couch and tears open a box.

  Smiling gratefully, I slip into the kitchen and quickly whip up a couple of frothy coffees. The sound of chirping birds floats in through the open window, filling the room with the beautiful noise of the countryside. Taking a moment to soak it up, I pop a few croissants onto a plate and head back into the living room.

  ‘Where do you want these?’ Aldo asks, holding up a selection of photographs.

  Handing him a mug, I place the plate onto the coffee table and take the frames from him. A smile springs to my face as I run my eyes over the pictures. Wearing silly sunglasses and giant sombreros, Aldo, Ruby and I clink our wine glasses together merrily. These were taken on my last day in the apartment. Just as I did for him, Aldo threw me a leaving party and it was the best day I’ve had in a very long time.

  After our initial meeting at Anxiety Anonymous, Ruby and I gradually spent more and more time together and now, she’s a firm fixture in our social group. It was actually Ruby who gave me the confidence to take the counselling job. When I first started the training courses, I questioned whether I was fit for the role, but Ruby was always on hand with a pep talk and reassuring hug to give me the confidence I needed to proceed. Looking down at the photographs, I feel a swell of pride as I realise just how much I have achieved with the help of my friends.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Aldo asks, giving m
e the look that he always gives me when he asks that question.

  ‘I’m fine…’ Giving the pictures pride of place on the mantelpiece, I pick up my coffee and take a seat opposite him.

  ‘Fine?’ He repeats sceptically, plucking a croissant from the plate and taking a huge bite. ‘Do you care to elaborate on that?’

  Shaking my head in response, I choose not to reply. I know Aldo is only asking out of genuine concern for my well-being, but sometimes, his questions make me doubt myself. Surely I would know if I wasn’t alright, wouldn’t I?

  Mateo jumps onto my knee and immediately curls up into a tiny ball. Regardless of how much others might question me, Mateo and I have this in the bag. My biggest pet peeve with mental health, is that no matter how well you do later on in life, some people will never let you forget that you once had a breakdown. These days, I can’t even cry at a sad movie without Aldo coming down on me like a ton of bricks. I pretend not to notice, but inside, it bothers me more than I allow people to know. I secretly worry that I’ll never be allowed to fully put it behind me and close the door.

  That’s the beauty of Mateo. He doesn’t ask any questions and I don’t tell him any lies. He’s just always there, always willing to listen and never judges. Nuzzling my nose against his, I feel my shoulders relax as he rhythmically purrs into my ear.

  ‘How do you like your new home, Mateo?’ I whisper, twirling his tail around my fingers. ‘It’s just you and me now…’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Aldo exclaims, putting down his mug with a thud. ‘I think you will find I was here first.’

  Letting out a giggle, I put Mateo on the floor and return to the unpacking.

  ‘How’s Edward?’ I ask, busily filling the television cabinet with DVDs. ‘Is he still enjoying his new job?’

  ‘What do you think?’ Aldo scoffs and proceeds to therapeutically pop the bubble wrap. ‘He’s like a pig in…’