Behind Blue Eyes

26

March 26th

I mindlessly make myself breakfast, this morning. It's been awhile since I made my own food. What can you do?

It's the standard struggle, or lazy, meal. Buttered toast with sprinkles of cinnamon on it. It's nothing too fancy, but it hits the spot, right away.

It's at least hitting 70 degrees today, and usually that would boost my spirits. After what I did last night, though? Hardly registering.

David comes down and joins me at the table.

"Make enough for me?" he jokes. I filp him off. "Oooooooo, I'm telling." He's full of shit so early, this morning.

"You feeling OK?" he asks.

"So-so. I have another session in a little bit. I'll see if that can raise me up, some."

"Hopefully."

We finish the rest of our breakfast with small talk and mindless chattering. After I clean up, I grab a light jacket and head for the door.

"Isn't it a little warm out for that?" he asks. I don't want to raise any alarms in his head or anything so I lie and say "you know I get cold, easily."

He laughs. "I guess, so. Just don't overheat. Remember that one time at the Kiddie Park where you wouldn't take your coat off on the roller coaster and you ended up passing out?"

"How could I forget? You only bring it up once a month."

"I'm just making sure I fill my quota" he smiles.

"Bye" I tell him. I leave through the garage.

---

I'm pretty quiet through most of the session, today. Too quiet. So much so that the others start to notice and ask if I'm ok or not. I reply not with words but a simple head shake, which they all know is the universal gesture for "no".

"What's troubling you, Sam?" Dr. Rhedding asks. "You haven't been this quiet and it's a little scary."

"How?" Is all I manage to ask.

"Well, we care for you, and when something's botheing you, we all get worried. It's out of love."

I suppose he has a point. "I hate my life" I say as bluntly as if I came in with a cinderblock and hit them all in the face with it.

"Why do you say that?" Dr. Rhedding asks, a lot of obvious concern in his voice.

"I guess I just feel that nothing really matters, you know? Like, why am I here? What purpose do I really serve?"

"You serve a tremendous purpose, Sam. Believe me when I tell you that."

"And just what is that purpose, if you don't mind me asking?"

That causes him to stumble a little. "Well... That, I personally don't know. That's something that you would possibly be better at explaining, yourself."

"I personally think I have no purpose."

"You mentioned, briefly, during one of our sessions, that you dabbled in acting, am I right?"

I nod.

"OK" he smiles, "then bringing your talents to the world at large could be your purpose!"

I scoff. "With all due respect, I don't think that's a possibility. I haven't been in many things to shake the room and cause enough of an impact."

"I see you're putting yourself down almost with ease. Is this something ou often do when you're feeling this way, or is this rather new?"

"Always been like this."

"How come you see yourself as lesser than everyone else?"

"I see myself lesser because I genuinely think I'm just a burden to everyone and anyone."

"Well, let me be the first to say that is far from the truth. You are not a burden. Not to me, not to anyone in this room and surely not your friends and family."

I stay silent. I feel overwhelmed. I've never said these words out loud and hearing someone saying reassuring things back is making me sad.

"It's true" I shakily say.

"I's Ok to cry, Sam. Let it all out."

I close my eyes shut as tears begin to squeeze out. I feel so embarassed. "I'm sorry, I need to..." I trail off as I stand up and leave the room, before the session ends.

"Sam?" I hear Dr. Rhedding call out. It's too late for me to turn back. I walk briskly out of the building and outside to my car.

I'm crying like a baby and can barely find my keys. Someone taps on my shoulder. "Leave me alone, please. I'm sorry" I tell them.

"It's me" I hear Paul say. I turn around and, through blurry and tear-filled eyes, I see him, worry spread across his face. I bury my face in his chest. "I'm so sorry" I bawl.

He holds me tightly and shushes me to calm me down. It's no use. I'm bawling for a while.

---

After the cut short session, I spend the rest of the day crying. Thoughts of insecurities, memories of Max and Jessica fill my head. It gets too overwhelming for me to process and it gives me a giant headache.

They haven't said anything, explicitly, but I can tell and feel that my family knows something's up. My room remains untouched, so I know that they haven't noticed my pills. Not yet, at least. They know I'm not acting right. Hell, I know I'm not acting right, myself.

I end the night with two texts from Paul. One of them telling me goodnight and the other one telling me that he's worried and wants to make sure I'm doing OK. I don't open them and leave them for the morning. I'm knocked out by 9:00.