A Drop in the Ocean

Chapter 8

When I awoke, the bright hospital lights practically blinded me.  I felt someone sitting on my bed and looked to find Dr. Williams.  She pursed her lips and sighed.  I did the same.

"Well, looks like Paxil's not going to work," she told me.  I nodded and twisted my face in disgust.  

"Looks like we're going to have to find something new," I said.  We both sat in silence.  

"Can you tell me what happened?" she finally asked.  I didn't really want to think about it, but I knew that she'd need to know.

"I had an anxiety attack," I simply stated.  She rolled her eyes at me and chuckled.

"I know that, you dork," she smiled.  "I want to know what caused it."  I knew that if I thought about saying it too much longer, I couldn't make the words come out.  

"We were watching a movie with a setting in the middle-east.  There was an explosion," was all I said with absolutely no emotion.  I never took my eyes off the nothingness before me.  

"That was your trigger?" she asked, pulling my eyes back to her.  I nodded slightly.  She looked down at her notes and sighed again.

"This sighing is really putting me on edge," I told her.  She chuckled, but her face was sympathetic.  

"I think, with this issue, we should try something else," she said.  I groaned.  I'd only been on Paxil for about three weeks, and now I'd get to switch again.  Yippee for me.  "I'm going to have you try Prozac.  It's helps more with depression and anxiety.  I think that part of your PTSD stems from your anxiety."

"So, do you think it will help?" I asked.  I really needed it to help.  All of this was bullshit.

"I hope so.  I hate seeing you like this," she told me with a sad look on her face as she stood.  She turned to leave the room.  

"Thank you, Dr. Williams," I said before she left.  She turned around and smiled at me.  

"Call me Libby," she corrected.  I smiled.  She then turned and left the room.

I sat in my room for a good twenty minutes before a nurse came in and realized that I was awake.  They really need to figure out what's going on in this hospital.  She brought me some really terrible hospital food, and I could only eat some of it.  

"Jordan!" I heard cheering through the door.  Nora and Lindsey bolted in while Paul and James strolled in from the back.  "How are you feeling?  Are you alright?  We were worried sick!"  I was bombarded with questions and exclamations.  

"I am feeling crowded," was all that I said, and the women backed away in embarrassment.  "A bit better.  I am feeling fine.  Doc's going to give me a new prescription.  I just need to rest and get better."  

"That's really good!  We were so worried," Nora told me.  Before anyone else could continue, I heard my phone ring.  I looked at the caller ID to see it was from Rosie.  

"Hello, sister," I answered nonchalantly.  

"What the fuck happened?" I heard shouted from the other end.  My sister swore more than I do, which is saying something because I swear a lot.  

"I had an anxiety attack," I replied.

"What caused something like that to happen?" she asked in angry concern.

"Anxiety," I told her, being a smart ass.  If we had been together, she would've punched me in the arm.

"I hate you so much.  I hope you know that," she answered.  I laughed.

"I hate you too," I said while laughing.  

"So, I just wanted to check up on you.  Make sure you were still in the land of the living and all," she continued.  With a sarcastic tone although I know that she wasn't being sarcastic.

"I am.  Thanks for checking up on me," I said in gratitude.  Nora, Lindsey, Paul, and James started to leave.  James mouthed that they were going to go, and I gave him a thumbs up.  

"Any time, asshole.  Now, I've got a date to continue, so I'll talk to you later," she chuckled.  I couldn't help but laugh along.  

"Okay, I'll text you when I'm discharged," I replied.

"Jerk," she said.  I knew the Supernatural way of life.

"Bitch," I replied.  With that, we finished the conversation.  As soon as I got off the phone with Rosie, four crazy boys burst into the room.  

"Holy shit, Jordan," Michael was the first to say.  "We thought you were dying!"  I couldn't help but laugh.  I'd had anxiety attacks before, and they were usually pretty funny to me afterwards, but not to anyone else.

"Nope, I'm still trucking along," I told him with a sigh of sarcasm.  Michael and Ashton piled into the chair on my right while Calum practically laid down on my legs, and Luke leaned against the wall to my left.  I looked up at him with a sympathetic smile.

"So, can you tell what the hell that was?" he asked me.  I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples with my index fingers.  I didn't want to have to explain this to them, but I knew it'd come sooner or later.

"I had an anxiety attack," I simply stated.  They looked at me in shock.  "You know how my mom died in Afghanistan?"  They all nodded.  "Well, I guess that explosion just triggered my anxiety disorder."

"You have an anxiety disorder?" Calum asked in surprise.  

"And major depression.  And post traumatic stress disorder," I replied as I always had.  Each time, it became less of a big deal.  I had never seen the boys this quiet.

"Wow.  Okay, then."  Ashton was the first to speak.  

"Yeah, let's not talk about it.  It's kind of a problematic part of my life.  I'm still struggling with a whole bunch of shit, and now I'm getting put on a new antidepressant, which is some of the hardest shit I've had to do in my life.  Lots of thoughts of suicide.  Not fun at all," I ranted.  "Depression consumes you.  At first it's just sitting there.  Small and insignificant.  And before you know, you're the small and insignificant one."  The boys looked sympathetic.  "Anyways, so, how have you kids been?  Staying out of trouble?"

The boys chuckled but I stopped laughed when I saw who came through my hospital room door.

"Aaron?  Brooklinn?"