Numb (DreamNotFound)

30

TW's:
-Mentions relapse alcohol addiction
-Mentions throwing up/hospital
-Mentions mental abuse
-Mentions self harm

Clay's POV

At five pm I had arrived at the rehab centre again, I was extremely scared of my therapist's reply and I had been walking extremely slowly. I really didn't want to go here anymore, I just wanted to be with George. But he would come tomorrow and I was sure I would be allowed to see him in our times outside.

I sighed as I walked inside and I saw my therapist standing there waiting for me. I was looking at my feet and started biting my nails. I was going to get screamed at, I knew it for sure.

'Come with me, Clay. You're not going to have therapy now, but I just want to ask you some things about what happened.'

'I'm sorry,' I began.

'Clay, this isn't your fault. Come with me.'

I nodded slowly and I walked with my therapist to a small room. I still hadn't looked up and I kept staring at my hands. All this and I didn't even have my date with George, everything just failed and I hated life, I genuinely did. I relapsed and I was here again.

'Clay? Can you tell me what happened the first time when you got drunk?'

'I don't know.'

'Clay, there is no need to be ashamed.'

'But I am.'

'You don't have to, we have around five out of ten patient who relapse, some never come back for another treatment. Some do, and they have beaten their addiction.'

I slowly looked up.

'Let your shame go, I'm here for a reason. If I would get mad at my patients for relapsing, I would have been fired immediately. You can just tell me everything that happened, it will only help you to continue your rehab.'

'The first time my parents were really mad at me. Firstly because they don't want an addict in their house. They told me they didn't want to be with me anymore and they just left the house without me. I was alone and I was really sad and then I remembered the alcohol.'

'Can you remember how much you drank?'

'I had three bottles and I drank a lot out all of them, I think.'

'Have you thrown up a lot?'

'When I was drunk two times, I think. After I woke up and I wasn't drunk anymore, I threw up three or four times or something. I don't even remember it anymore.'

'And the second time? What happened?'

'My parents were mad at me again and when I came home from George- I walked in on uh- they had put the table full of bottles with alcohol. And I really wanted to stop myself and I texted George, but he has to drive fifteen minutes before he's at my place so I had already drank why to much.'

'You drank a lot, because you had alcohol poisoning.'

'I threw up within ten minutes and I kept throwing up a lot, I got brought to hospital.'

'How do you feel now?'

'I feel off. I feel like life got taken away from me by a few things.'

'What things are that?'

'George is gone now, I miss him. I miss the good times with my parents, they just treat me like I'm shit or something. And I feel stupid and dumb, and I genuinely hate myself for relapsing. After such a long time, I did it again and I had to go to hospital. I will never get better, I will always be addicted to alcohol.'

'You won't always be addicted, the alcohol was literally put in front of you and you have only been sober for a three months. Sure, if you're sober for a year then you have to be able to resist it better, but not if you just finished therapy and rehab.'

'I miss George.'

'I already made you a promise that I would help you see him everyday shortly.'

'Really?'

'Yeah.'

'I'm sorry for making things hard and difficult.'

'You're not making anything difficult, your parents make it difficult for you.'

'But now I want to see George again, I'm just stupid.'

'Did you take him out already?'

'Not yet, we want to wait till I finish this month of therapy and he is further in his therapy. I love him very much. It might be weird that I'm telling this to you, because you're my therapist, but I have no friends to tell it to.'

'Go ahead, tell me whatever you want.'

'I- we hug a lot and he gives me off the effect I crave for when I drink alcohol. If he leaves me I feel like my life gets taken away from me. I never loved anyone like this, I never knew what real love was since I had never had real friends around me. I only had people who ruined my life and didn't give me any love. I want to make my parents happy, but my parents also don't want to make me happy, so I guess it's their problem.'

'George helps you a lot, doesn't he?'

'He does. He is always sweet to me and he says I help him a lot too. I kissed his self harm wounds and scars every night before I went to sleep and he started feeling a little less insecure about his scars like that.'

'That's really sweet of you, Clay. I think if George wasn't here, things might have been different.'

'What do you mean?'

'George saved your life in multiple ways.'

'He did, I always wanted to feel numb to hide from the reality, but George makes even the reality beautiful.'

'Because you both help each other this much, we can't take you guys away from each other. You will help each other positively in your recovery and you can see George everyday for around fifteen minutes and maybe George will be in the same class as you. But we aren't going to talk in class,' my therapist said grinning.

'No, no worries. I'll pay attention to the class, but I might hold him sometimes when he gets sad.'

1025 words