The Rhythm Of Our Lonely Hearts

Chapter Eighteen: This Is My Resurrection

Chapter Eighteen: This Is My Resurrection

Andy's hand shook as he picked up his phone, the caller ID flashing across the screen causing his heart to skip a beat. The half-pack of cigarettes he'd chain-smoked in anticipation of the call did not diminish his anxiety in the least. Day five of being sober, out of how many he wasn't sure, guess that depends on how this call goes. The sticky Atlanta heat wasn't making his anxiety any easier, the bus's A/C suffering in the August weather.

"Hello?" Andy's voice was hoarse from smoking, not exactly giving the best impression to his new therapist.

"Hello, is this Andy? This is Dr. Smith from Palms Rehab and Wellness Center." The woman's voice was soft and inviting, not at all what Andy had pictured a rehab doctor sounding like.

Andy chewed at his fingernails, tapping his boot against the wood floor. "Yeah, that's me..."

"You spoke with Marissa last night about getting treatment here? This is just a call to go over what that might look like for you." Dr. Smith replied. "Is that something you still want to do?"

Andy debated saying no, all he had to do was hang the phone up and find the nearest bottle of alcohol to stop the sick feeling in his gut. There was no guarantee that this would even work, how many people fail rehab and go right back to their old ways?

"... yeah... yeah, I guess so." Andy stumbled over his words, his voice lacking confidence in his answer.

"That's wonderful to hear, congratulations on taking your first step towards a better life." She beamed, the words doing little to make the singer feel better.

"Now, what is it you would like help with. We offer a wide variety of treatments here." She prompted him.

Andy took a deep breath, feeling it hitch in the back of his throat. Unsure why he was suddenly getting choked up, not wanting to openly admit his faults to a complete stranger. He thought back to what Matt had said, his own life wasn't the only one he was destroying with his self-destruction. It wasn't only Matt; his heart broke every time he heard his mother's worried cries echoing in his mind. He would have to face her, tomorrow at the Ohio stop.

"I... I um... I think I might have an issue with drinking... I'm in a band... and at first it was just for fun but..." Andy chewed at his lip ring, "But I think maybe now it's not for fun anymore... I have a problem staying sober."

Andy looked down at the floor, wishing that Matt was with him. The guitarist had insisted that he take the call alone. "That's not the only thing... I have a thing with... food, I guess. It's been a thing since I was young but... it's gotten worse. I try to just watch what I eat but sometimes I just..."

Andy paused, not sure if the emotions he was feeling were the result of shame, embarrassment, or fear. Probably a mixture of all three, not realizing how hard it would be to put words to his actions. "I make myself sick sometimes... I know it's bad but... yeah..."

To his surprise his admission wasn't met with judgment, the doctor simply thanked him for his honesty and emphasized that the center was equipped to treat both issues. There was a small amount of relief that came with the fact that it was out in the open now, the hardest part being over.

The next forty-five minutes were filled with her asking him numerous questions, going in-depth about his career, attitudes towards treatment, and schedule. More information on the place, they weren't a 12-step program, no religion, out-patient, and in-patient and specialized in having a high level of privacy for more 'noteworthy' patients.