Over Your Head

Getting Help

A/N: I'm updating again tonight because this chapter is mostly filler. It gets dramatic at the end and I do not mean to offend anyone. It sort of seems that way, but it's honestly not my intentions. Enjoy!

Chapter 8

I checked my phone and saw that I had a text from Mom.

I'm sorry.

I rolled my eyes and sighed sadly. She wasn't getting any better and I didn't know how to help her. Maybe she needed rehab?

I sat in my room and did a little bit of research, petting Wyatt absentmindedly. I found a rehab that was nearby before calling and getting some more background information.

After being assured that it was a good facility, I called my mom's therapist, Doctor Tonia Martin.

"Hello, Doctor Martin's office," the receptionist answered.

"Hi, this is Scott Hoying, is she in right now?" I questioned.

"Yes, she is, I'll send you over," she replied in a chipper tone.

I waited until I heard the familiar voice.

"Scott, long time no talk," she answered.

"I know, sorry. I've been having a hard time getting Mom to go, and she's getting worse, to be honest. I was wondering what your thoughts were on getting her into rehab. Because it's emotionally and physically draining and I don't think I can handle it anymore," I explained honestly.

"I totally understand, have you looked into any rehabilitation facilities near you?" She inquired.

"Yeah, this LA Rehabilitation Facility seemed credible. I called and talked to them," I explained.

"Alright, I think you should go for it. Go check out the facility first, just to make sure, and then take her. Remember, work with her, not against her," she added.

"Ok, ok, thank you Tonia," I stated.

"You're welcome," she replied.

"Wait, uh...am I allowed to...uh...recommend someone into going to therapy?" I asked awkwardly.

"Care to explain?" She asked.

I got up before opening my door and peeking around nervously. I checked to make sure Mitch wasn't in earshot before sliding back into my room, "I have this...friend. His childhood is having some negative effects on him and I don't think he knows how to cope with anything, and I was just wondering if you'd be able to at least talk to him once," I explained.

"Ah," she replied, "Well, I'd be happy to talk to your friend. What day and time would work for you?" She inquired.

"Uh, do you have any time open on Friday?" I inquired.

"Yup, from 4 to 5 I have open," she replied.

"That's perfect, thank you, so much," I informed her honestly. I don't know where I'd be without that woman.

"No problem, it's my job. Take care," she stated before hanging up.

I hung up and took a deep breath.

"I'm not going to therapy," Mitch stated abruptly, making me flinch.

I looked up and saw him standing in the doorway, arms crossed, with only a towel around his waist.

"It's not permanent, can you please just go once? It'll help you cope with what your parents did to you," I explained.

He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, "Once," he declared.