Lost in July

IV

Collin
~
Sometimes I genuinely think I am reliving the same day over and over and over...

The familiar squeak of my med cart wakes me; my nurse is handing me my morning drugs.

I thank her, and she smiles, rushing out to do the same thing for all the other kids in here.

I have therapy today, a solo session, the first one since I got in here. To say I'm unhappy is an understatement.

I stretch and pull myself out of bed, aggressively rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

I go through the morning motions, dragging my feet around and wasting time until noon.

Once noon hits, I walk to Dr. Indy's office and press the button, signaling I'm here. I sit on the couch, leaning back and spreading my legs.

I'm all too familiar with this, and Dr. Indy usually takes his sweet time.

I spent a few solid minutes analyzing the paintings hung on the walls and how many different colors were in this one room.

Finally, Dr. Indy's door opens, and he smiles brightly. "Collin! Come on in,"

I slowly pull myself off the couch and walk over, showing no enthusiasm.

I walk into his office and sit on the black couch before his desk. I make myself comfortable before finally greeting him back.

"Hey,"

I've seen Dr. Indy ever since my first stay. Even when I wasn't in the hospital, I had to drive to his office in the city once a week for therapy.

So here I am, as usual, doing what I always do.

"So last time I saw you, you were at home, stressing a little about school work but otherwise good. So how did we end up here?" He asks; his voice is calm and holds no judgment.

I sigh deeply, finding the floor impossibly interesting. "I dunno. I was just done, you know? I didn't want to deal anymore. I found my mom's old painkillers and started taking them. I didn't really think about it."

Dr. Indy scribbles in his notepad, nodding every once in a while. "And how many did you take?"

"Only five before my mom found me," I mumble, pulling on the sleeves of my hoodie anxiously.

"How does it make you feel now? Are you happy to be alive? Are you regretful?"

I shake my head. "I'm not happy to be alive, but I guess I'm happy I didn't die."

I'm starting to get aggravated with all of his slow noddings. "That's a start, believe it or not. Your mother also told me you haven't been compliant with your medication. Did you take your medicine when this happened?"

I sigh, feeling guilty. "They weren't helping,"

"Collin, that means we have to modify your prescription. It doesn't mean you should just stop taking them. That is more harmful."

"Okay, well, I already did it, so," I slump back on the couch, praying it will swallow me whole.

"I know. I'm here to make sure you don't do it again. We all want to help you, Collin." And there it is- the constant pity that I never asked for.