Light in the Shadows
Page 70
Every day was a testimonial to how far I had come. But there were a thousand moments that reminded me of how stupid I was being for trying to promise Maggie, Ruby, myself, anything when I was in no position to do so.
The dark voice in my head, while not as loud, still taunted me. It tried to tell me that I wasn’t ever going to get better. The urge to hurt myself was overwhelming. And for every smile I forced onto my face, it was followed by the fight to keep it all together.
But I was following my treatment plan. I never missed a therapy appointment. I made sure to take my medication twice a day as prescribed. But the niggling doubts began to resurface the longer I was in Davidson.
Did I really need the medicine?
Come on, wouldn’t I feel so much better if I was just able to live without it? Remember how awesome it was? How I felt on top of the world?
What could it hurt? Missing a day or two? No one would have to know.
I was fighting an enemy every single day. And his name was Clayton Reed.
The only difference this time was I refused to bottle it up inside and hope it would go away. Or even worse, cave into the demands of the voice inside me. I spoke with Shaemus about how scared I was. About the urges that at times seemed to eat me alive.
He started having me journal again (just freaking fantastic). He wanted me to write down each and every time I had the desire to hurt myself. I was supposed to focus on what I was feeling, what triggered it. He didn’t try to hide from me the fact that he was worried. He shared that the likelihood of relapse for someone with Borderline Personality Disorder was huge. He suggested that the Tegretol may need to be adjusted to combat my manic symptoms.
And then we would talk about voluntary readmission to a mental health facility. Sometimes that sounded like a good idea. Other times, not so much.
Every day I came home to an aunt who was barely able to get out of bed in the morning. She had started to see a grief counselor, at my insistence, but I wasn’t seeing any change yet. But just like my own progress, it would happen over time. The house that had once felt warm and safe was now an empty shell.
But there was Maggie.
And that was both the brightest part of my day and the darkest. Because with all the journaling I was doing, it was clear my trigger hadn’t changed. It seemed that my most negative emotions were somehow still tied to the girl who loved me.
I had lost it during my last therapy session. I had ripped the pages out of my journal and thrown them away. I had wanted to grab the pair of scissors on Shaemus’ desk and cut myself wide. The tears had been furious and intense.
Shaemus didn’t bat an eyelash. Thankfully he was like Dr. Todd in that way. He had simply told me to take deep breaths, to focus on something else and walked me through pulling myself together. It had taken awhile and I had gone over my session time by twenty minutes.
When my tirade was finished, he started talking about my returning to Grayson. He had spoken with Dr. Todd and they could arrange for a place for me in two weeks.
“I know you want to be here, for Ruby, for Maggie. But what good are you to either of them when you are in pain? They wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your health for them,” Shaemus had asked me gently. I hadn’t been able to argue with that.
I had left my therapy appointment feeling defeated. I was a failure. Convinced that I couldn’t be in this town a moment longer. But I had gone home to find Ruby curled up on the couch, fast asleep, clutching Lisa’s coat in her hands. The evidence of her drying tears on her worn face.
How could I leave her? Not when she was like this.
I hadn’t called Maggie that night. Worried that just the sound of her voice would either reinforce my desire to stay or make me want to get the hell out of there. How could my love for her be so f**king conflicted? It wasn’t fair to her. Not after everything.
But when I had woken up in the morning, I felt good. Happy even. The events from the day before a hazy memory. And I had picked Maggie up for school and just being around her put any thoughts of leaving firmly out of my mind.
How many times in my life had I convinced myself that everything would be fine? It seemed that some things really hadn’t changed.
Particularly where Maggie was concerned. Becoming consumed by her was dangerous territory. One that I had traversed before with horrific results. But it was such a beautiful way to fall.
Maybe it was time to get Maggie to come with me to therapy. I was sure that this was a proactive way of taking control of my life.
“Do you think you could come with me to Shaemus’ office tomorrow after school?” I asked Maggie as we walked into the cafeteria for lunch. I had taken to eating with her, Rachel and Daniel again. And so far, it hadn’t been completely awkward.
Rachel and I had developed a bond of tentative respect since working together at Bubbles. She no longer avoided me and even tried to engage in conversation when we had our breaks. I knew her efforts had more to do with Maggie than it had to do with me, but I appreciated it nonetheless.
And Daniel. His antagonism had surprisingly died down. I knew he still watched me, waiting for the moment he had to intervene. But thankfully there hadn’t been a need. Despite my inner craziness, outwardly I was working my ass off to show the world I was a changed man.
It was exhausting being two separate people. I was beginning to wonder which was the “real” Clayton Reed.
Maggie stopped just inside the doorway to the overly loud lunch room and looked up at me. Her eyes were soft and I knew she understood how hard it was for me to open this part of myself to her. I hadn’t been able to do it last time, but this time, I would.
The dark voice in my head, while not as loud, still taunted me. It tried to tell me that I wasn’t ever going to get better. The urge to hurt myself was overwhelming. And for every smile I forced onto my face, it was followed by the fight to keep it all together.
But I was following my treatment plan. I never missed a therapy appointment. I made sure to take my medication twice a day as prescribed. But the niggling doubts began to resurface the longer I was in Davidson.
Did I really need the medicine?
Come on, wouldn’t I feel so much better if I was just able to live without it? Remember how awesome it was? How I felt on top of the world?
What could it hurt? Missing a day or two? No one would have to know.
I was fighting an enemy every single day. And his name was Clayton Reed.
The only difference this time was I refused to bottle it up inside and hope it would go away. Or even worse, cave into the demands of the voice inside me. I spoke with Shaemus about how scared I was. About the urges that at times seemed to eat me alive.
He started having me journal again (just freaking fantastic). He wanted me to write down each and every time I had the desire to hurt myself. I was supposed to focus on what I was feeling, what triggered it. He didn’t try to hide from me the fact that he was worried. He shared that the likelihood of relapse for someone with Borderline Personality Disorder was huge. He suggested that the Tegretol may need to be adjusted to combat my manic symptoms.
And then we would talk about voluntary readmission to a mental health facility. Sometimes that sounded like a good idea. Other times, not so much.
Every day I came home to an aunt who was barely able to get out of bed in the morning. She had started to see a grief counselor, at my insistence, but I wasn’t seeing any change yet. But just like my own progress, it would happen over time. The house that had once felt warm and safe was now an empty shell.
But there was Maggie.
And that was both the brightest part of my day and the darkest. Because with all the journaling I was doing, it was clear my trigger hadn’t changed. It seemed that my most negative emotions were somehow still tied to the girl who loved me.
I had lost it during my last therapy session. I had ripped the pages out of my journal and thrown them away. I had wanted to grab the pair of scissors on Shaemus’ desk and cut myself wide. The tears had been furious and intense.
Shaemus didn’t bat an eyelash. Thankfully he was like Dr. Todd in that way. He had simply told me to take deep breaths, to focus on something else and walked me through pulling myself together. It had taken awhile and I had gone over my session time by twenty minutes.
When my tirade was finished, he started talking about my returning to Grayson. He had spoken with Dr. Todd and they could arrange for a place for me in two weeks.
“I know you want to be here, for Ruby, for Maggie. But what good are you to either of them when you are in pain? They wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your health for them,” Shaemus had asked me gently. I hadn’t been able to argue with that.
I had left my therapy appointment feeling defeated. I was a failure. Convinced that I couldn’t be in this town a moment longer. But I had gone home to find Ruby curled up on the couch, fast asleep, clutching Lisa’s coat in her hands. The evidence of her drying tears on her worn face.
How could I leave her? Not when she was like this.
I hadn’t called Maggie that night. Worried that just the sound of her voice would either reinforce my desire to stay or make me want to get the hell out of there. How could my love for her be so f**king conflicted? It wasn’t fair to her. Not after everything.
But when I had woken up in the morning, I felt good. Happy even. The events from the day before a hazy memory. And I had picked Maggie up for school and just being around her put any thoughts of leaving firmly out of my mind.
How many times in my life had I convinced myself that everything would be fine? It seemed that some things really hadn’t changed.
Particularly where Maggie was concerned. Becoming consumed by her was dangerous territory. One that I had traversed before with horrific results. But it was such a beautiful way to fall.
Maybe it was time to get Maggie to come with me to therapy. I was sure that this was a proactive way of taking control of my life.
“Do you think you could come with me to Shaemus’ office tomorrow after school?” I asked Maggie as we walked into the cafeteria for lunch. I had taken to eating with her, Rachel and Daniel again. And so far, it hadn’t been completely awkward.
Rachel and I had developed a bond of tentative respect since working together at Bubbles. She no longer avoided me and even tried to engage in conversation when we had our breaks. I knew her efforts had more to do with Maggie than it had to do with me, but I appreciated it nonetheless.
And Daniel. His antagonism had surprisingly died down. I knew he still watched me, waiting for the moment he had to intervene. But thankfully there hadn’t been a need. Despite my inner craziness, outwardly I was working my ass off to show the world I was a changed man.
It was exhausting being two separate people. I was beginning to wonder which was the “real” Clayton Reed.
Maggie stopped just inside the doorway to the overly loud lunch room and looked up at me. Her eyes were soft and I knew she understood how hard it was for me to open this part of myself to her. I hadn’t been able to do it last time, but this time, I would.
