Camryn Quinn is finally getting what she wants...sort of. Moving into a dorm and away from her not so supportive father is a good first step, but like everything with him, it comes with strings. She must attend the college of his choosing for at lea...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I let the door slam behind me as I enter the room and immediately flop myself onto the futon face down just as my phone pings.
Dad: The pharmacy says your prescription has been ready for a week and you haven't picked it up. I will drop it off tomorrow, and transfer it to the campus pharmacy to make it easier on you.
I roll my eyes and send back a thumbs up emoji. It's just another side effect of The Incident. A daily dose of a drug with side effects that make me feel far worse. The only reason my dad is so adamant that I take them is because it's like pressing an easy button. A once a day pill that fixes all. Miss one dose and he thinks the manic zombie will return to ruin his life. If he ever bothered to actually ask, he would know that I elected to stop taking it the second I turned eighteen two months ago. The refill must have been something automatic.
A second text is waiting for me, no doubt my dad's doing after speaking to the pharmacy.
Dr. Hartwell: Just checking in on my favorite patient named Camryn. I know you are making strides, but remember your words and thoughts can be your greatest strength or overwhelming downfall. Reflecting is so important for healing.
I exhale, considering her words. It reminds me of something my mom would say when I was younger. She had this secret power to see and hear things others couldn't. Heightened senses somehow acquired during pregnancy like Spiderman being bitten by that radioactive spider and having the spidey tingle when danger was near. My mom was programmed to notice a Camryn meltdown from a mile away. She would be by my side before anything even came tumbling out. Her voice was always so soothing. Coating me like a blanket as she would say Take a deep breath and tell me what you need to do or say to make the situation better.
She could talk me down from any ledge, and leave me feeling confident to handle the next one in a single sentence.
No amount of prepracticed self regulation could have prepared me to handle what happened after she was gone. It didn't stop me from wondering what would have been, though, if she had been there to talk me through The Incident. To visit me, check in on me and my progress, to celebrate each milestone with me.
But if she had been there, The Incident probably wouldn't have happened in the first place. Or at least played out in a different manner. In a more normal way like my dad would have preferred. Like a boyfriend they don't like or a secret tattoo they don't approve of.
I reread her text. I don't even know what I would write to sum up my days if I wanted to. I've survived nearly two weeks of college classes. Not that the first week counts, if only to remind us that universities don't care about the cutting down of trees to print out the lengthy syllabi.
The only thing that has solidified for me is that insomnia and early morning classes have created a daily dose of a disaster. Leading to an increase in my caffeine consumption, and a decrease in my desire to have anything extra on my plate. I am in no state to be managing student athletes' school work while I can't even find a balance with my own.
