Always Atlas

12 ➵ Suicide Watch

ALWAYS 

ATLAS

After around twenty minutes of me nodding my head and smiling at Dr. Sullivan it was finally the end of many questions, useless strategies and me trying to focus on everything that she is saying instead of how badly I wanted to go home and see Archie. 

As I lent against the large brick building that I had just walked out of, I lit my cigarette with a red lighter that I had no idea where it had come from, but I was grateful because only god knows how many times, I've not had one on my person when I've needed to light a fag.

Fucking terrible, I think I would rather stab myself with a rusty nail or some weird shit like that than never not have a lighter with me.

Exhaling a large cloud of chemicals out of my lungs which seemed to instantly make the hunger and pain in my body leave, but only temporarily as it would come back, it was just in a matter of time before it come crawling back but with sharper claws and more hurtful words.

As I took in another drag of my cancer stick, I felt my pocket vibrating and then my ringtone sounded loudly which was just one of the plain and boring iPhone ones, although it was Opal's mission to create me the best ringtone of all time.

Too bad she was alive long enough to make me one.

Exhaling put the smoke from my lungs, I fished my red iPhone out of my oversized black leather jacket pocket. I glanced down at the caller ID in confusion as no one ever calls me anymore, opal was the only one who cared enough to call me all the time ever if it was for a short time or to tell me something stupid.

"Hey mum." I said into the phone as I sucked on my cigarette while I also wondered why she had called me.

After a few seconds and the loud sound of her gulping she finally answered me, "Hi sweetie, I was just calling to see how your appointment went." I can pretty much see the smile on her face.

"It was good." I stated bluntly, "Still working on more strategies to try and help with everything." I tried to inform her because I know she would rather more than just a 'it was good'.

I hate talking about my therapy sessions. It's just they are so personal and tough sometimes and they always manage to drain the life out of me as I use every ounce of energy within me to one ignore how badly I want to smoke and eat and then I'm trying to express my emotions and traumas to someone.

It all just feels like a lot sometimes.

"That's really good sweetie, I hope these sessions are helping you." she stated happily as I could just see her curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her and a bottle of alcohol on the coffee table In front of her as the tv plays some sort of reality show.

They are but they aren't at the same time. When I go home and actually try to do the strategies by myself for a few days or weeks and I don't see any help or change with how I'm feeling or doing then I feel like it's a step forward but then two steps back.

And each time I just keep going back even further than the last time.

"Yeah, it is." I stated as I looked down at my shoes nervously as I hated lying to my mum. 

But sometimes if lying means that I'm saving my mother from having to hear about my suffering and other shut I'm going through that would only just worry her. So it's just easier to lie and shield her from the truth. 

"Aurora that's so good!" She beamed, "I'm so glad this is helping you sweetie, I just want you to be better, I can't lose another child." 

Sadness flooded into me at the thought of my sister and how truly depressed my mother must be about losing her first child. I'm grateful that she cares about me and still wants me around but sometimes I feel like all she wants is for me to leave her alone to continue her grieving process.