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Thirty-Four

We all too my car to the Military Jail place thing. Lip got a ride here and got in.

"Private Ian Gallagher enlisted as Phillip Gallagher has been accused of going AWOL, theft and sabotage of government property, falsifying a federal document, specifically to join the US armed forces. The AWOL charge has a maximum sentence of five years alone. I am Sargent Nathan Kipps, it is my job as investigating officer to investigate the circumstances of these crimes. I will make a recommendation as to if Ian Gallagher faces these crimes."

"You decide?" Debbie asked scared.

"Excuse me sir, Ian is clinically Bipolar the army should not be court marshaling him. If anything you should be helping him." Fiona said.

"This diagnosis was made by a doctor?"

"Yes, yes and we can get you the files." Lip added.

"When was this diagnosis made?"

"Recently,"

"B-but he's been acting crazy for s while now." Debbie added. I looked at Ian and he looked broken. I wanted to stand up and give him a hug. Nobody should talk about anyone like this.

"At least for this past year."

"Guys," I said quietly my voice breaking mid word.

"How would you characterize this behavior?"

"Compared to how he used to be? Different." Debbie said looking at the officer.

"He'll go back and forth from, being incredibly dependent to, incredibly wound up." Lip said glancing at me and Ian. "I mean he ran away with a baby for no reason."

"He almost hit me with the head with a baseball bat."

"He didn't mean to though, he was having psychosis. It feels so unbearably real at the time, give him a break." I said above a whisper not being able to talk any louder or else I'd start crying.

"Our mother was bipolar so we know what it looks like. She put us through hell, and I'm not saying ethier of you put us through hell. It's just that when they're manic they can be destructive." Fiona said, I reached my hand over to Ian and squeezed his before having to retract it.

"In your opinion does he require medication?"

"Yes."

"Is he unable to care for himself?"

"Sometimes, yes."

"Ian, I'm so sorry." I whispered before Mickey grabbed my head and hugged me, he let go after a few seconds and I looked back to Ian. "Don't apologize for your illness, you shouldn't have to. It's not your fault, it's not my fault, it's not Monica or David's fault it's just fucked up brains deciding they wanna make it harder for us. That doesn't make us a bad person okay?" He just nodded lightly. We had to go after that but we were told we'd find out tomorrow if he is going to be let out.

"You get roofies, I'll Google water boarding and you trick her into thinking you don't wanna pull her intestines out."

"I say we put battery leads on her nippes and light her up like a Christmas tree." Mickey said to us walking towards the house with Liam.

Mickey gave Sammi roofies. Turns out they don't mix with her other meds and she's ethier dead or in like a sort of mini coma. The next day we went to pick up Ian and he wasn't there. Monica picked him up before us.

I went back to my dorm after that, Jess wasn't there so I let myself break down. It's so fucking tiring. Everyone sees me and Ian like we're broken and that we need to be fixed but we don't. We don't need to be fixed it's just who we are. We didn't ask for this. There is no "fix" to us, we're like this for life, there's things to try and regulate our moods but no fix or cure.

The only thing people see when they see me is Monica or David. Just because I'm bipolar doesn't mean I'm like them. It's so fucking tiring and I just wanna fuckin hit someone. I'm not fucking broken I don't need to be fucking fixed but I wish I wasn't like this. I wish there was a "cure" that way I wouldn't hurt people.

I'm so tired of being me. I'm so tired of these fucked up meds. I'm so tired of being up and down. I'm so tired of everyone seeing me like a broken object they can fix. I'm tired of being compared. And I'm so fucking tired of being me, and being like this.

I was now balling now under the desk in a ball. No pun intended. My clothes were damp from all the tears and my face is now all red and puffy.

"Holy shit!" Jess yelled before running over. "Hey it's gonna be okay, you're okay." She whispered holding me.

"You shouldn't see me like this, I'm so sorry, I'm so fucked."

"What happened?" She asked frantically grabbing my face to look at her.

"I can't tell you, you'll think I'm crazy and see me like I'm fuckig broken."

"I won't, I promise."

"Everyone treats me like I'm broken or like I'm a monster but it's not my fault. I was diagnosed with Bipolar three or so years ago and now everyone treats me like absolute shit. Everyone sees me like a monster and walks around eggshells with me but I'm trying so hard. I'm taking my meds but nobody sees that, all they see is the bad, destructive behavior."

"Hey, listen you're not broken and it's 100% not your fault you're like this okay? It's just the fucked up brains deciding it wants to be different." She smiled before kissing my forehead. "Wanna go get ice cream?"

"Everyone's gonna see I'm a mess."

"Then let them. Who the fuck cares what others think? You're a badass." She smiled pulling me up. She grabbed a towel and wet it quickly with a water bottle and started dabbing my face. "There all better!"

We went out and got ice cream from a place just off campus and came back. We ended up watching a movie on her laptop. We ended up wrapping ourselves like butterflies in cocoons.