The next part is here! This episode is actually so long that I'm going to split it, so today, you're only getting part 1 of 3.
DISCLAIMERS (the same ones as before)
The point of this fanfiction is not to be a straight-up continuation of events with the same themes, intensity, and tone. If you go into it with those expectations, you are probably not going to like it. Rather, it’s supposed to be how I wish things went if these events were real life. The resolution you want for a real-life situation isn’t often the right choice for a show, but it can be incredibly beautiful. Think of what you’re about to read to be a separate show then.
Episode 1 of this fanfiction begins after the episode “2:00” (season 2 episode 4), so it replaces the episode “Cake” and the ones that follow it. This fanfiction expects you to have seen the entirety of seasons 1 and 2, so you should watch those first.
I myself bursting into the story here. The narrator and me are the same. While my character is like 95% real me, don’t take events about my life described here as facts. Some aspects of my life have been changed for the story. In my head, I started writing like an “alternate me” character in 2016, fulfilling a lot of the things that I wish I had in life, adding that to my story. I’m not really from Ukraine. I speak fluent Ukrainian as a foreign language, I started learning it in 2014, and I’ve talked to tons of people from there, but I’m not from Ukraine. I also don’t have as much money as I do in the story. I wish lmao.
If you want to post your own fanfiction, feel free to do so! To get your own post flair for your fanfic, and to appear in the side bar, please message me.
SEASON 2 EPISODE 6 - “ATTIC”
Part 1 (day 1)
So I'd be scheduled to work with Sean in the kitchen again, maybe a few days later, and Leanne would be "allowed" out of the attic again and have some time in the kitchen with me, like with Tobe in the real show (which Dorothy only started to allow because her strategy of pure torture and isolation wasn't working...). Julian would be there to watch us while Dorothy is at work (it would be around 10-11 AM) and Sean is shopping for new parts for the dishwasher.
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This time, we’d be told to cook something for Sean, following his recipe, maybe filling squid with a mix of mashed vegetables and spices.
This time, we’d be told to cook something for Sean, following his recipe, maybe filling squid with a mix of mashed vegetables and spices.
With Julian there, we’d be pretty limited in the things we can talk about, but the air would be noticeably lighter because of my gift for Leanne that neither of us can talk about yet, and you could tell on her face and especially in her eyes how much that has touched her. I’d imagine we’d talk about the stuff either of us likes to cook. She’d tell me that she doesn’t actually cook that much on her own. I’d be surprised and ask what she likes to eat, and she’d open one of the drawers and show me the cans upon cans of tomato soup and tell me she likes to just warm up a can every day and add some side dish on the plate, like toast, and something to drink, usually just water. She’d be a bit embarrassed about it because her experience is that people think that’s weird, but I’d tell her that I think that’s cute, and she could tell on my face that I mean it. I’d tell her how I eat obscene amounts of Ben & Jerry’s, even more so in the summer, and how her eating so much tomato soup reminds me of that, and I’d tell her how I drink sooo much Cola Zero that I’ve built up a lot of resistance to caffeine. “I can drink a whole two liter bottle, take my meds, and then go to bed just like that” (Side note: Coca Cola’s US website actually lists a two liter bottle among their sizes. Is that correct?) She’d be amazed and almost not believe me, but I’d show her my almost empty two-liter bottle in my backpack, with a little bit of condensed water from my fridge still on the outside, and she’d look at me with big eyes, bewildered and amazed, and we’d both chuckle before Julian tells us to stop. Quite confused, I’d ask why, like, what’s wrong with us laughing, and he’d tell us something like me not being there to have fun. I’d ask “Mister… What’s your surname?” - “Pearce” - “Do you have employees, Mister Pearce?” - “My father does, and I wouldn’t hire you anyway.” - “Oh, good, I wasn’t going to apply for a job with you in the first place. I can’t say I’m surprised that nobody wants to work for you.”
Leanne would be proud that I’m sticking it like that to Julian, and before he even has a chance to reply, she’d ask him “Could you please get us some wheat flour from the basement?” - “You want me to get you a fucking bottle, too?” - “Two would be nice.” - (Julian rolls his eyes) “I think I’d get two for myself, so I don’t lose it with you both!”, and he goes into the basement. As soon as Leanne can hear the door shut, she would suddenly tell me to fill up a bag she takes out from under the sink with ALL of the water bottles in the kitchen and a lot of the food in there that can be eaten as is and doesn't require cooking, and she’d tell me to do the same with my backpack, quietly go up to the attic, and hide there, so I can’t be seen if Julian comes upstairs, anticipating that she will be left alone in there again for days without food. I'd be confused at first, but she'd frantically beg me to do it immediately, and I'd trust her, I’d nod and say “okay” and do it. Julian would come back, and she'd pretend that I left. Julian would command her around again to finish up in the kitchen, and soon after, he'd lock her in the attic again, not knowing that I'm there.
I'd be shocked and really confused and concerned after realizing he just locked us in, and in that moment, she'd come to me, begging me on her knees to get her out of there, crying. At first, I’d just look around in shock with my jaw dropped, but then, I'd just hug her and just comfort her and let her know I'll do it. I'd feel so sorry for her... I wouldn’t know yet how long she’s been locked up for and why, but that wouldn’t matter for me to decide to help her. Really confused, I’d ask her to tell me what’s going on and why she’s locked up there. I’d be so shocked.
Once she’s calmed down enough after begging me to help her in full desperation, we’d sit down on the mattress. She’d tell me the full story - from the moment she first arrived at the Turners' in season 1 to now, including Dorothy’s brutal acts of violence and the pranks Julian and Sean played on her in season 1 to drive her out of the house, but she'd only mention the Church of Lesser Saints in passing as that's another really painful and complex topic she doesn't want to get into, and she wouldn't tell me about reanimating the doll yet because she knows how unbelievable the truth sounds (she tries not to let anyone know about her powers anyway). She'd stop several times while telling me all that because it's so hurtful, and I'd just comfort her and hug her . She’d cry out that it’s her fault and that she never should have come back. I’d just tell her that none of this is her fault and that she didn’t “come back” because she was taken against her will. “You can’t blame yourself for any of that. It’s not like they gave you a choice. It’s not your fault.” I’d tell her that she deserves none of the things they’ve done to her, I’d be absolutely horrified by them. She’d tell me about Sean’s visits to her, how he stopped coming upstairs after she was buried alive,
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and how he told her stories about Dorothy to try and make her (Leanne) feel sorry for her (Dorothy), so she can tell him where Jericho is. “I told him that Jericho died, and he just said nothing and stood up and got out after a while. He knows that there’s nothing I can do…” While she cries on my shoulder, I’d just comfort her, rubbing her back, and just express my absolute shock at the things she’s telling me and just try to make her feel at least a little bit better. I’d be like “Those are the worst things I’ve ever heard… He actually defends her? Like, he got you out of a hole in the ground and still told you that she’s ‘ not a bad person ’?” Leanne would nod. “Oh my God, what a piece of shit… What an absolute piece of shit… I’m so sorry you’re going through that… She’s trying to kill you, she’s starving you, she forces you to use the bucket, and… Oh my God, I’m so sorry…”
I’d just let her cry for a little while as I’m comforting her. I’d cry myself, just so shocked and horrified and scared. Unsure if that’s what she wants to do, she’d ask me if I’m going to call the police. I’d ask her how long she thinks we’ll be in here, and she’d say she doesn’t know. “Do you think someone will come up here before tonight?”, and she’d shake her head. “Mr. and Mrs. Turner don’t come up during the day anymore”. I’d suggest we wait until everyone’s asleep tonight and then try to find a way out. She’d say that she’s already tried everything, and I’d be like “Of course, but now, we got a lot more options because you’re not alone up here anyway. Like, okay, that’s gonna sound really hard, and it probably is, but I can try to step up on your shoulders and reach the skylight, stuff like that. If we can sneak out without them knowing, that’s probably a lot safer for you than calling the police while we’re unarmed and the Turners are not. And the last thing you need right now is another traumatic situation”. She’d look up at me, surprised that I’m even considering her well-being like this. “And if we don’t manage to get out tonight, we can still come up with a plan. What do you say?” And she’d smile and nod. I’d smile back and rub her back and say “Heeey, it’s gonna be alright. I’m getting you out of here! Until tonight, let’s just make the best of it!”, and she’d smile really hard at that, which would really touch me, seeing her smile like that because she has hope now, and she’d almost cry.
“So how did you like the cake?”, I’d randomly ask her. She’d look me directly in the eyes and tell me how delicious it was, full of joy, and show me the porcelain baby and say that she wants to keep it. I’d be like “I told you you’re special!” with a big smile and embrace her over the shoulders as she’s smiling back. She’d go “Thank you so much, Daria!”, and I’d be like “Of course!”
I’d then go “Hey, let’s eat some of this stuff! You must be starving!”, and we’d divide the food and water we got upstairs, dividing it into rations for three days (just to be sure…), making her ration for today a bit bigger because she hasn’t eaten in days. Because calling the police would create a dangerous situation for us (and it’s not like there are any lengths the Turners wouldn’t go to), we’d keep that as a last resort if we run out of food, “but let’s see what we can do tonight”. Among the food in my backpack would be every single can of tomato soup from the kitchen and a can opener 😊 Even though it’s cold, the soup would be like heaven to her! And I’d be like “Mmm! Hey, honestly, this is way better than I expected!” - “You like it?” - “Yeah! I thought it might be a bit dull, but there’s, like, what’s in here? I think there’s some celery, definitely some salt, and there are some chunkier bits, like, yeah, this is pretty good!” This is her comfort and favorite food, and because it’s such a rare choice, I don’t think anyone has ever told her that they like it (even the way Dorothy said “You do love that soup, don’t you?” in season 1 kinda communicated that she found it odd or weird),
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and she’d love hearing that! I’d ask her if she’s ever had Ben & Jerry’s, and she’d say she hasn’t. “I’m gonna give you some when we’re out of here, you’re gonna love it! My favorite flavor is Cookie Dough S’Wich Up, it’s like vanilla ice cream mixed with cookie dough, Oreo pieces, and brownie pieces, and also some chocolatey stuff mixed in with the vanilla in some spots!”, and that would sound great to her, she’d look forward to it. And I’d give her the rest of my Cola Zero. She’s probably had some before, but right now, she’d enjoy every bit of it.
I’d take out my two phones at some point (I actually do have two - an iPhone 15 Pro Max and a Samsung Galaxy S5 Mini lmao, but there was no 15 Pro Max at this time, so I’d have an iPhone 13 Pro Max here) and give her the Samsung because, like, we don’t really know for sure if anyone will come upstairs before tonight. I’d add my own number as a contact as well and add her as a contact on my iPhone under the number of the Samsung phone, so this way, she can call the police herself if the Turners find me upstairs with her, and the police can find out where I am if anything happens to me, and vice-versa.
After we’re done eating, knowing that we’re left with like ten to eleven hours until we can try to get out, we’d just sit there on the mattress saying nothing for a few seconds. Breaking the silence, I’d look around a bit and ask “Did the attic look the way it did when you… you know, or did you decorate it like this?”
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She’d say she did. “It’s beautiful, especially with the lights and stuff! You’ve got a good eye!”, and she’d smile a bit in embarrassment. I’d be like “Hey, I mean it! No need to be embarrassed!” and then say “Have you heard about, like, I don’t know what to call it, but some department stores have LED chains that you can stick to surfaces and control the color of with a remote. Most of them can even fade back and forth between colors. When we’re out of here, if you want, I can show you some. If you already like these lights, you’re gonna love them!”, and she’d smile and say that that sounds great! I’d show her some on my phone, and we’d imagine putting them up around us and talk about our ideas that we couldn’t realize because we obviously just wanna get out of there, and we’d talk about where we’re gonna go once we are. I’d suggest my place, a small rental house like twelve minutes by bike from there that’s technically in East Lansdowne, where we can stay at least for a little while, and she’d say she’d love to, but to please take her somewhere safe where the Turners can’t find her, somewhere far away, certainly not this close to them. I’d suggest going to a hotel, and that would sound great to her. We’ll probably have to go to my place first just to get my stuff, but yeah, we can go to a hotel from there. I’d again just reassure her that it’s gonna be alright.
She’d bring up that I told her I’ve spent an exchange year in California, and I’d say that yes, I’ve spent a year in San Diego and add “Still the best year of my life.” She’d ask why, and in her own words, she’d say that we talked so much about HER life, and she wants to know some more about me. I’d tell her I wasn’t the first one in my family to do a student exchange year. My sister went to Denmark from 2008 to 2009. “You got a sister?”, Leanne would ask, and I’d tell her I got two and ask about her family, and she’d tell me she’s an only child. I’d tell her my sisters moved out, or rather, they were forced out, in 2007 (I think) and 2012, so I was alone with my parents for several years, which felt a lot longer. “Time already flies by at twenty-three now”. And anyway, at the time, I thought my mother, who did most of the “parenting”, wanted to make me happy by letting me go abroad for a year, but in retrospect, it’s pretty obvious that she just wanted to be rid of me for a year, the same as when my sister went to Denmark. In retrospect, I remember how many arguments she and my sister had after she came back, which was partly because she definitely enjoyed being rid of her for a year, and then, she had to “deal” with her again. Leanne and me would just lock eyes, and I’d say “We both got terrible moms” and chuckle because of it while still having sad expressions on our faces.
I’d say “Anyway, my first choice were the US, and I got placed with a family in San Diego, California, or [sãn ˈd̪je.ɣ̞o] in Spanish”. Surprised, she’d ask “You speak Spanish, too??”, and I’d be like “Yeah, but not back then”, and in awe, she’d ask how many languages I speak. I’d answer her in each language before saying what language I was just speaking in - fluent Ukrainian, English, and R*ssian, rather good Spanish, some French and Dutch, and I’ve forgotten most of the Finnish and Azeri that I used to know, and I’d show her on Google Maps where that’s even spoken. She’d be really impressed ahaha, and a bit embarrassed about herself. I’d be like “Hey, it’s okay, you don’t need to compare yourself to anyone. Life’s not a competition”, and that would be a really important lesson in life for her, certainly very different from how she’s been taught to think before, especially by her mother and by the Turners. She seems pretty smart anyway, and when I tell her that, she’d be really surprised and flat-out say no, and I’d be like “You’re super resourceful in the kitchen, like, you can come up with solutions to problems pretty quickly, you’re great at remembering details, and you already know that you got lots of special skills! I’d say you’re pretty smart!”, and she’d smile again before making a sadder face and telling me that she never went to school because the Church never let her. I’d be like “That’s… That’s horrible. If you want, there are YouTube channels out there that maybe you can use to learn about all the stuff you missed out on”, and she’d nod a little with a bit of a smile. “Doesn’t say anything about your intelligence anyway. Credentials are only credentials, and school is pretty terrible at telling you how smart you are.”
Back on talking about California, I’d tell her about my year there from August 2014 to August 2015. While there, I didn’t even realize how free I was all of a sudden because I was away from my parents for the first long time in my life. I changed a lot in that year because I didn’t have them look over my shoulder and judge my every move anymore. My mother even took me by the hand outside up until I left for America, and suddenly, I could socialize with whomever I wanted, I could stay outside of the home after school, like, AT ALL, the family I was with, they actually cared, like, I could talk to them, I could just ask when I needed stuff, and they didn’t force their restrictive values and stuff on me, I could just be me, y’know? I’d tell her that my time in California was also the first time I had a girlfriend (a little hint there ahaha), which my parents would have gone ballistic over if they found out. Leanne would ask if her and me still speak, and I’d be like “No, not in a very long time”, and she’d ask about the family I stayed with in San Diego, if we’re still speaking, and I’d be like “Oh yeah, we do. They know about where I live now, about a lot of the things that’s happened in my life since 2015, and yeah. We actually talked just a few days ago.”
“If it’s not too personal”, I’d ask, “do you still talk to your parents?”, and she’d shake her head and say she doesn’t, and that she doesn’t wanna talk about that, maybe another day, and I’d be like “Okay” and respect that.
Back on talking about California, I’d say “ignorance is bliss”, so to come back from America a year later (we already moved to Kyiv City before I left for America), where nothing had changed, with how much I had changed in that year without realizing it, my home life became horrible as a result. I suddenly realized that my parents having loud arguments several times a week is NOT normal, and I began to realize that my mother probably never cared so much about me and my autism diagnosis (which I got in 2006) because she loved me, but because she used it to cash in benefits for it all these years. I have no idea how much she received, but one time, I saw the bank statements of my parents’ shared account, and there were the equivalent of like $8000-$9000 in there, while I only received the equivalent of like $30 per month as an allowance. For years, a health inspector would come by once a year to check up on me (mostly by just talking to my mother) for continuing the granting of the money she exploited me for, and for years, she'd taught me to act like - literally - the most mentally disabled person ever during those check-ups, either ignoring the inspector completely and acting like they're not there at all, or cowering up in a corner and pretending I'm terrified. This way, she cashed in the money that's granted for the care of people whose level of disability is comparable to that of late-stage dementia patients… While the government was already struggling financially! Living in a normal environment for a year really changed me, and I didn't notice it until I came back, when I finally stopped playing along, which would make everything worse for how I was treated, and just one month later was when my parents broke up and decided they wanted a divorce, which made my world crumble even more than it already had.
If I didn’t have feelings for her, I’d probably just call the police, but because I do like her in that way already, I’d just go the extra mile and comfort her and ask her if she can tell me what’s going on and stuff, assuring her that I’ll get her out of there.
If Leanne was a completely different person and I didn't have feelings for her, I'd probably call the police, but when you're slowly starting to fall in love with somebody, you just wanna make sure they're safe and be really careful about this. I haven't gotten to a lot of the stuff in my life yet because it's a long story, but with how Leanne and me both went through parental abuse, parents who worked really hard to make us feel horrible, strict religious abusive upbringings, horrible punishments when we left religion, feeling so left behind in our development because of our upbringings and struggling to succeed in the wider world as a result (it's so hard to actually find someone who understands what that's like. I feel so much comfort and understanding knowing that Leanne can really relate to this!), and falling into the traps of other people who used our lack of experience and agency, we both went through so many similar things in different ways, and I'd think we'd bond soooo much over that, knowing and feeling how much we both understand each other through the similar things we went through, that would bring both of us so much comfort! I think we'd not just be great, but great for each other, not only through our similar experiences, but also through our similar personalities and values, like how we're not fitting in with people. I love her peculiarities so much that people just call weird, like how she eats sooooo much canned tomato soup, how she arranges everything so tidily, like her plates or her food in the kitchen, or how she keeps bugs she tries to reanimate.
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Something I'd notice so easily at this point in the story already are the ADORABLE ways she reacts to things with her face and verbally! Some examples of what I mean by that are her short pauses before she speaks if she doesn't know how to answer right away,
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how she answers non-verbally sometimes like smiling and nodding instead of saying yes,
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the way she moves her eyes when something's awkward,
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that is SO INCREDIBLY CUTE, I adore it so much, it adds so much to her personality! I'd notice that so hard already and absolutely adore it!
And even though we wouldn't know much about each other yet, we'd already notice and really like these things about each other. And up there, when I tell her a little bit about my life like I just have, she'd really feel for me, too and comfort me back, and that is honestly so wonderful to imagine for me ❤️ She'd sit there next to me and listen a lot and look at me, and embrace me a little bit. She wouldn't really know how to do that yet because it's not something that people ever did for me or taught her to do for others until I just came along, but she'd now know how good that feels and do it for me, too, as best as she knows how, and that's the best thing about it!
Late that night, when we think that everyone else is almost certainly asleep, we'd try to find anything we can in the room to get through the door of the attic without being loud enough to wake anyone up (because then, we'd both be screwed), but there would be nothing we could do to get out right then and there without the Turners waking up. If there was, Leanne would have been long gone already. We’re both twigs lol, so we’d step up on each other’s shoulders to try and reach the skylight, but it would be too high. We’d look for long solid objects to try and reach the skylight, but anything we find wouldn’t be enough. I’d double-check the door to the other part of the attic, and it would be locked. Smashing any doors would wake everyone up at night and make them come upstairs during the day. The window is locked, and it’s way too high for a safe fall anyway. So we'd make plans. If, in three days, we're still locked up, we will call the police because we'd have no other choice, but if Sean or someone else comes in by then, Leanne would be ""given"" a few hours out of the attic again, and they would leave the attic unlocked like they did before
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because they'd think no one else is in there, and I would leave all the rations in the attic, sneak out of the attic, and leave through the basement. I'd leave the Samsung phone with her, so that she can reach me after I get out of there and prepare to get HER out of there. The plan would be for me to go home, taker a shower, type up everything I've seen into a PDF file addressed to the police, and send the PDF file to one of my internet friends (I actually have such a hard time making friends, another way in which Leanne and I are so similar and would really get each other). (I’m changing his name for this story for privacy reasons) I'd probably choose my friend Liam for this. I'd tell him that if I'm not back online telling him I'm safe in 24 hours, that he should then open the PDF file and call the Philadelphia police and read it all out to them. If I lived in America, I'd definitely get a gun lol. In Pennsylvania, I'd actually be able to just go buy one, I'd pass the requirements of the instant background checks. I'd get my gun, pack up everything we'd need for the next couple of weeks, and get a taxi to like one block away from the Turners', and with my gun for intimidation (considering that they're holding her hostage, this would probably fall under acting in defense of a third party), lock the Turners in the bathroom, have Leanne come downstairs, and leave with her, get to the taxi, and drive off, out of Philly, and be safe from the Turners for now.
But we'd leave the details for the next day. By this point, I'd need to tell her about some of my medical conditions, like night terrors, which usually fade during one's youth, but for me, they never did, so that she's prepared if they happen and doesn't get too freaked out, and so she knows that they're completely triggerless and can happen to me even after the best of days. I’d tell her that people don’t usually remember their night terrors at all, so she knows that I will act like nothing happened in the morning because I literally won't remember, it's only sometimes that I know that SOMETHING scary happened, but I rarely ever remember the night terrors themselves at all), and also so she knows to make sure I won't hurt myself or her if I have an episode, and also because it's a safety issue in this situation, to make sure that the Turners don't hear me, because if they did, we’d be screwed. And I'd have to tell her about my PTSD (because of the war in Ukraine, I’d tell her I’d lived through the first three days of it), which gives me nightmares, and to please wake me up if she notices I'm having those. We'd share the tiny mattress and covers that are up there, say good night, and fall asleep next to each other! Because I wouldn't have my meds, she'd fall asleep first, and I'd just look at her for a while 😊

Once, I worked overseas in a Muslim-majority country as a healthcare worker. On my first day in the operating room, a local nurse approached me with a safety pin for my scrub top. I was puzzled but applied it to my neckline.
Later my colleague explained to me that he had asked her to do this for me because some people might think I was too “exposed”. Apparently that tiny triangle of skin was considered too titillating.
It’s not for me to question or change their entire culture. I was there to do my work and I didn’t need to be a distraction, which is why we women had to be covered up on our way to and from the hospital, whereas men didn’t. It wasn’t for me to question the patriarchal nature of their society.
This brings me to the illogical human puzzle that is Meghan Markle.
She went to Nigeria accoutred in a number of semi-naked outfits. I don’t know even know under what capacity she went as - wife of Invictus founder? UK Duchess? Feminist? 43% Nigerian? Ex-actress?
Any which way, she went there for maximum exposure, so to speak. Rumours are that they’re collecting footage for another documentary.
Her clothes were intended to draw the eye, and not in a good way. Some people looked uncomfortable while interacting with Meghan while others ignored her completely.
I noticed that Meghan was offered clothes or accessories several times, and I see them as diplomatic attempts to have her cover up. Usually hosts don’t want to embarrass their guests so they make subtle requests like these.
I googled “dress code in Nigeria” and this is the first site that came up: https://www.africatourvisa.com/nigeria/dress/#:~:text=Modesty%3A%20Modesty%20is%20generally%20valued,and%20avoid%20overly%20revealing%20clothing.
It stresses that Nigeria is a diverse, multi-cultural society, and that “modesty is generally valued” among both men and women.
Meghan is supposed to be a role model. Why would she prance about in distracting clothing? It seemed that the message she sent to the schoolgirls she visited was “dress sexy like me, and you can bag a prince too!”
Supposedly, she majored in international relations at Northwestern. How could she be so ignorant of local customs?
I’m sure she’ll find a way to reply by issuing an article that states “no one told her how to dress” 🙄 By now it won’t work. Ignorance is no excuse.
To me, she’s advertising her wares and trying to look more desirable. Is she gunning for a Nigerian billionaire? Is she trying to make Harry feel jealous?
It’s her first “unofficial tour” after leaving the Firm and it shows. She wants to be the center of attention despite flouting local customs, so she doesn’t care. This explains why her staff and PR firms give up on her. No one wants to work with a diva and to deal with the negative fallout of her actions. Still, maybe by now they’ve become experts in disaster management.
Video source: British Royals Rise “Meghan got COMPLETELY IGNORED at volleyball match in Nigeria” https://www.youtube.com/live/f-Hp8xopnQY?si=BgeKNcwblGDPjKzD

Tl;dr: My wife (38F) was diagnosed last week with BG 458 and A1c 13.7, started metformin 500mg extended release 2x/day, got a CGM, no finger sticks, numbers are 200-400 but mostly stayed in 250-350 range over past 40 hours. Looking for support, and wondering if anyone else was diagnosed with numbers this high, how long did it take to get them controlled?
My (39F) wife (38F) was diagnosed last week after a routine PCP visit with labs (first PCP visit in many years, but she had a gynecologist/nurse midwife visit in January and we saw a reproductive endocrinologist in March). Next morning the doctor sent this message. In hindsight I think her approach (incremental change, avoid info overload) is smart and probably works well for MOST people. But my wife and I freaked out, started Googling and asking our med pro friends, and immediately made a same-day appt. I left work 3 hours early and we arrived at the dr office 45 mins before the appt (unheard of for us 😂).
To the dr’s credit, she got us back to see her right away, quickly shifted gears to share lots of info and options, and took time to listen and answer our questions. She prescribed a CGM (Libre 2) which my wife got on Saturday. (Wife is terrified of needles and doesn’t want to do any finger sticks. I had to apply the CGM for her.) Over the past 40 hours, her numbers have ranged from 200 to 400+. She’s taken 8 doses of metformin 500mg extended release (2x day since Thursday night), and I know it can take 4-5 days to really see effects. I also know that her numbers have likely been this high for months and months, but I’m so worried about long-term damage. 😞
My wife is taking this super seriously and has already overhauled her diet (no added sugar, low carbs, extra protein and healthy fats), and started exercising more. We’ve both dieted before and know the drill. Emotionally she’s devastated by the diagnosis, especially because we were planning to TTC next month, and that’s likely delayed now. She’s motivated to get this controlled ASAP so that having a baby is still an option. And, I know this is a marathon and not a sprint, and I’m worried about burnout. She has a long history of (likely but undiagnosed) PCOS, obesity, binge eating, and avoidance of preventive medical care. (Ironically her weight is currently almost in a healthy range, thanks to 2 years of previously-unexplained weight loss, which no one besides me questioned - if you’re fat, weight loss is always the priority. 😑) I’m doing this with her, both to be supportive and because I’m concerned about my own IR (weight gain in the past year, fasting insulin was 17.5 in March despite having good FG and A1c, and last year my A1c was 5.7 so barely pre-D).
I know this is long, so I appreciate anyone who read this far. It’s been very overwhelming the last few days, and I feel like I need a “T2D spouse support group” already. I’m really hoping we can get her numbers down in the next few weeks and without having to add insulin.