UNBROKEN || Cecily Strong

10. Rehab

AUTOR'S NOTE
Many of the things that happened in this chapter are not fictional and instead based on Cecily's memoir "This will all be over soon", which you should totally read if you already haven't.

A month and a half had passed since Owen's funeral, and my mental state wasn't at an all time high. I would find myself crying over the littlest, most useless things, and I would often have to get pills for my growing, many times unjustified, anxiety.

Between a pandemic and the grief, I was feeling like I wouldn't have survived the year. And if things already looked terrible enough, they started getting worse when Jack tested positive for Covid-19, and had to self-isolate. I had to stay alone in my apartment in New York City, while people around me kept getting sick or dying, and I had to pretend to be okay to my friends. But I wasn't okay. I was worried, because then I knew how easily it was to lose your life, and I couldn't imagine living without Jack. I had already lost so much – my mind, for example – and was terrorized I could lose him, too.

I needed to know that he was alright at all times, every minute, but the feeling of drowning still would not go away, so I would text him the same things every day, every two hours, even.

How are you?

Fine.

You don't have to be so cold, I'm just trying to look out for you.

You asked me ten minutes ago, Cec, you're becoming obsessive.

I am not obsessive, I am worried sick about you. You could die, and expect me to be fine?

I just have a cold, I'm okay.

Fine.

This was our conversation every day, at every hour, and even when I didn't send him a text I still thought of me doing it.

One day, he didn't answer my call, and I was terrorized, in the literal sense of the word. I couldn't think about anything but him and his health, and soon I found myself sending a message to his roommate, who I had just looked for on Instagram, to make sure that he was good.

Hi, you don't know me, I'm Cecily, Jack's girlfriend. He hasn't answered my calls and I'm worried about him, is he okay?

Hi! Jack's okay, he just has a cough, but nothing serious. I'll make sure he calls you soon.

During those weeks I started drinking to the point where rehab could have been an option. I would have a glass of wine while I was cooking, then one while I was eating, one after that, and then a shot of whiskey or two while I was working. I was drowning in my own sadness, and the pain was hitting me everywhere like sharp blades on bare skin.

The nights were the worst. At least during the day I would write ideas, play with Lucy, call Kate or Aidy, but at night I had nothing to keep me away from my intrusive thoughts.

My mind would play my whole life again and again, like a movie, making me remember all those days I wish I could forget: when mom and dad told me and my brother that they were separating, when dad moved out, when Nate was admitted in a psychiatry hospital, when my friend Liz overdosed and my friend Erica was hit by a train, my toxic relationship with an abusive ex-boyfriend, when I received the call from Uncle Ed about Owen.

All those days, years, months, that had made me suffer in silence, crying, throwing punches at walls and hoping to never wake up again, showed up, and that time I couldn't stop them.

It was like I was reliving those moments, and no one was there to help through it. I was lonely and alone, surrounded by nothing and everything.

In the morning I would often find my pillow wet, and my eyes swollen, because I didn't even have SNL anymore. It was all gone, and my apartment seemed so empty yet still suffocating.