It Doesn't Even Matter

It's better than nothing

I'm discharged two hours later with a new medication to try and strict orders to start seeing my therapist twice a week. None of this is affecting me the way I feel like it should. I've accepted there's something seriously wrong with me. Now all I can think about is mom. I know her not being here is a stupid thing to let my mind wander to right now. Only the longer I've been here the farther I feel from her. She left me in the hands of two people I'd just met who still seemed to care more about me than her. One of whom up until today I had sworn to hate for the rest of my life. Now, I just don't know. I'm lost, it's too confusing. I can't piece my feelings around them together properly. Other than feeling guilt for dragging them into my mess today I feel stuck.

That's ok though, the thing I really care about most in this moment is avoiding Mom as long as possible. I don't want to see her when we get there. I don't want her to baby me like she cares when normally she would just avoid me until this all blows over. I feel guilty asking anything more of Drew or Mark today, I just- I can't handle her right now. "I-" I'm not sure how to put it lightly or even ask them to be a buffer so I stop before I've even started.

"Everything ok?" Mark is better at this than Mom. He's acting like an adult, taking charge while still being respectful and not belittling me or babying me.

"Yeah, I just-" Say it Max, you have to say it or no one can help you. Remember what the lady said, openness is important. People don't know what you want or what you need, people don't know how you're feeling unless you tell them. "I guess I'm just not-" This shouldn't be that hard. Except I feel like a complete jerk saying that I don't want to see my own mother after all of this. How do I say please for the love of god keep her away from me? "I don't want to see my mom." Ok there it is, I said it.

"That's understandable. It's been a long day." Was that his way of trying to put it nicely? He seems tired and worn out at the idea of seeing her too. He'll have to go over everything again with her. Maybe that's not it though, and he's upset she did come to the hospital herself, that he had to leave work. "Why don't you go upstairs and rest when we get there? Someone will come get you when dinner is ready." That's it? My stomach hurts a little. I know I would feel better if I clarified with him that that meant he'd keep her away from me, but it feels kind of messed up to directly ask him that.

"Ok, thanks." Leaning my head against the cold window of the backseat I take a moment to soak in the nothingness. It's returned. It's comforting. The warmth in not being afraid of anything, of not feeling anything. Of just floating in the void. It's not healthy, I know that now more than ever. But there's something to having a very long day like today and coming back down. It's a relief from the pressure. It's nice to rest in the space between feelings, even if it's not real. The car pulls down our street and into the driveway. I can't help letting out a deep sigh when the car turns off and I see Mom looking out the window at us. She's pacing. She stops when she sees I've noticed her and moves for the door. I sigh again and see Drew staring at me through the rearview mirror.

"Why don't you boys wait here a minute while I talk to your mom." Mark doesn't wait for me to answer. I only barely hear Mom say my name before his door closes and he pulls her away to the side.

Drew hasn't said anything since the psychiatrist was brought in to see me. I know I've screwed with his head today he just won't let me apologize to him for it. "How... how are you feeling?" He doesn't turn in his seat when he asks but we hold eye contact in the mirror a minute longer before I glance away.

"I'm-" he's not looking to hear the answer fine. Even if it is the truth, and it is because at the moment I am fine. I've gone back to that spot at the edge of my mind where nothing matters and nothing can touch me. "I'm tired. How are you?"

"I'm fine." He says drifting his eyes away from the mirror now too as his jaw shifts.

"Oh." I think about leaving it there but there's an itch that wants to help him feel better or to at the very least let him know he doesn't have to pretend. I don't want to be talked around in the conversation anymore. I didn't need protecting, I needed honesty. It wasn't supportive if it felt like suppression. If it felt like a lie. "No, you're not. Please don't say you are, it's not helpful."