Cold Feet

4, Odiare

*TW; mentions of d^ug usē and OD*

Damiano

The never ending cycle.

"No, sorry he's not here right now. May I take a message?"

I fucking hate picking up the phone to the pricks.

Mom understands why I won't. But everytime it's always the same bullshit lecture about my mental state.

"Damiano, the medication is there to help. Why must you refuse?"

I'd rather not look high and have random outbursts, that's why. Oh, and I'd rather be alive.

"Ma, I'm not being on 4 different medications for 4 different things. You're not even meant to take them all at once. Don't you remember September?".

That's the last time I took the god stupid pills. That night even scared me. We were meant to have a show that night, but it got canceled the first time I threw up. Poor Victoria saw everything. I still feel guilty for it. The hospital ruled it down to an OD.

Of course that incident got linked to Eurovision when I was accused of doing drugs during the performances. I guess when someone OD's, they aren't aloud to say what on. And thank fuck they didn't.

Everyone finds it bad enough that I was taking sleeping pills around that time. I guess that's what they think I took that night.

I remember being told "it's fine to take them all at once, slight drowsiness may occur the first few days". Biggest load of bullshit I've ever been told.

That morning I didn't feel drowsy at all. I felt nothing. Quite literally nothing. It was like my body was on autopilot. Getting in the car to the show, it's like I was thrown back into my body. My head was spinning. Everything was blurry. It got hard to breathe. My heart was beating faster than a roller coaster. I could barley speak.

Ethan described me looking like I walked out of a grave. I felt like it.

"Are you at least going to your psych?" Ma pushes.

Is she serious?

"With what time? Ma, I'm non-stop. This week is our first free week in ages."

"It's not good enough. Just at least start off taking medication for your Sc-"

"Don't say it, please" i beg.

She won't say it, but I will.

Not this, not today.

I ball my fist in my lap until my finger nails hit my palm. I haven't heard them since I took the tablets last night.

Mom looks at my fist and back to me. "I think you need to start taking at least one of them. You can't keep drowning them out with sleeping pills".

My face goes white.

"Yes, I know. Thomas tells me everything. Sweet boy, he's just trying to look out for you"

That fucker.

"It's just for the sleep, I swear".

"Love, those poor kids think those are what landed you in hospital. You can understand the concern. You really need to tell them at some point. Best off telling them before they tell them."

As much as mom is right, I can't bare the thought of them finding out. They'll think I'm a freak, think I won't be able to handle anything to do with the band. Any mental illness just puts a target on you for not being able to do things.

"I can't".

She reaches out to grab my hand. "What happened when Vic opened up about her struggles with anxiety? Did you all shut her out and treat her any different?"