Just Yesterday

Relapse

I tried hard to open my eyes. I could feel myself giving up on reality, falling deeper into my dream. His brown eyes coming closer. Wake up Adrienne. His hand approaching my face. Open your eyes Adrienne. Then his warmth becomes cold again. Adrienne?

"Adrienne? Adrienne that's the fifth time this week."

" What?"

" You space off every time I ask you about your brother."

That's when I realize I'm at my counselor's office. I notice s she's holding my arm tightly. I lightly pull back from her grip. My mouth is dry. I guess she noticed because she hands me a paper cup filled with water.

" Did that help?"

I take another sip.

" Yeah."

" I know it's hard now, but how can you get over it if you don't express your thought to me. It's not healthy to continue holding anger or remorse about the situation inside. How have you've been sleeping since the medication?"

I can't sleep. But I also can't abandon him. I can't leave him in that place. It's dark and cold there. I left him to fend for himself before. Not now, not again. I look up at her face, finally remembering a question had just been asked.

"They've helped."

She looks at me as if she's expecting further explanation. The truth is that I haven't touched those pills. I have no problem giving into the sleep. It's the waking up that I need help with. The dream is an addiction. Supplying me with a drug that's going to cause me to sleep is not helpful at all.

" I'm going to schedule you in for next Tuesday and Thursday."

" Adding two more days isn't going to help me anymore than what you see."

" We've gone through twelve sessions and I haven't seen any improvement. This treatment can only work if you want it to. You have to put effort in this as well, and we both know you're not."

I couldn't argue back. Not that I could stir up the energy to. Everything she just said was true. I wasn't ready to let go of him. I stood up preparing to leave. The room felt cold as I walked, probably from the sweat on my neck and shoulders. I felt numb once more inside,a constant reminder that I was grieving.

I got home just in time to catch my mom on her way out. That was no surprise. These days all she does is go out, anytime, anyplace. Dr.Celeste says people tend to cope with their situation very differently. She told me that my mother rather busy herself so that she has no time to think about the situation. How can you run away from this, this stain on life? Blood stains are the hardest to remove. Where could she possibly escape from this horror? Was I the only one that hadn't moved on?