Falling Again

Chapter 40

I knew rehab was going to be difficult. It was always that part of it that made me stall it for so long. Now that I'm here, it's a struggle everyday. It's a struggle to wake up and fight the urge to sign myself out. It's a struggle to sit through therapy and withdrawal without breaking down. It's a struggle to sit with the therapists and the volunteers and talk about what I went through to end up here. 

Ultimately, fighting my past and fighting my demons will get me out of here. Fighting them means the drinking stops, because I won't have anything I'm in a desperate state to block out. 

I just need to be strong. I just need to hold on a little longer, and I'm out. I'm back with Aria. I'm able to l live my life fully once more. 

The walls in this place are too white. White like the fluorescent lights above me that make my head pound if I stare too long. I sit in a chair that's bolted to the floor, legs jittering, hands gripping the sides until my knuckles turn white. I hate this chair. I hate this room. Hell, I hate myself most days. But I'm here. 

Aria says that's something. 

Her words play on a loop in my head like a broken record. You're stronger than you think, Jacob. You just have to see it. She said that last week after her last visit before she kissed my forehead and told me she was proud of me. I didn't deserve it. But I want to. 

I glance at the clock on the wall. A few minutes until group therapy. A few minutes until I have to say something real, something honest, while a bunch of strangers nod their heads like they understand. Maybe some of them do. Maybe they do. It doesn't matter. 

What matters is getting through the next few minutes. 

I tug at my hair, hard enough that it hurts. Pain is grounding- it reminds me that I'm still here, that I'm still alive. Aiden isn't. 

Once I'm sat in that circle, I suddenly feel suffocated. It feels too small- too tight. Too many eyes watching me, even though most of them are glazed over, caught up in their own struggles. I sit with my hands clasped together. fingers twisting and knotting like I'm trying to wring the guilt out of them. 

"Jacob, would you like to share today?" 

The counsellor's voice is soft and patient. It's the same question she asked every session, and most times, I shake my head and let someone else take the spotlight. But today, something's different. The weight in my chest felt too heavy, pressing down like it's trying to suffocate me. 

I clear my throat, staring at a spot on the floor. "Yeah." I say finally, my voice rough. "I guess I'll share." 

The room goes quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioner the only sound. I can feel everyone's eyes on me, and it makes my skin crawl. I wish I could disappear, but instead, I force myself to take a deep breath and start talking. 

"My brother, Aiden," I began, my voice cracking on his name. "He killed himself... two years ago. And I was there when it happened." 

I pause, swallowing hard as the memory crashes over me like a wave. The screech of tires. The dull thud. The way his body crumpled like a rag doll in the middle of the street. 

"He ran into the road." I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "He wrote me a letter, and I... I knew what he was going to do and I thought I'd be quick enough to get to him and I thought I could save him, but..." 

My throat closes up, and I clench my hands tighter to stop them from shaking. 

"The car just hit him. I didn't even have time to yell. One second, he was there, and the next, he was just... gone." 

My voice cracks, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to keep it together. The room is silent, and it feels like the walls are closing in on me. 

"I should have done something." I whisper. "I should have got to him quicker or... I don't know. Something. But, I just stood there, frozen. And then he was gone." 

The guilt claws at my chest, sharp and relentless. I can't look at anyone, so I just stare at my hands. 

"After that, everything fell apart." I continue, my voice hollow. "I lost my girlfriend. I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. I kept seeing it, over and over." 

I glance up briefly, catching a few sympathetic nods, but it doesn't make me feel any better. 

"She hurt me. She didn't want to, but she was fighting her own battles and I was just getting in her way. Then, I didn't want to be around anyone. I though if I just... shut everyone out, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much." 

I shake my head, laughing bitterly. "It didn't work. It just made everything worse." 

The memories came rushing back: the nights spent alone, drowning in silence and self-loathing and alcohol. And then the drugs. 

"It started small." I admit. "A few pills to take the edge off. Something to help me sleep, to make the nightmares stop. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough." 

My hands clench into fists, and I feel the surge of anger- at myself, at the world, at the driver of that damn car, at Aiden for taking his damn life. 

"The drugs... they made it easier to forget. For a little while, anyway. But then they took everything else. My friends, my family. My job. My fucking dignity." I exhaled shakily, the anger draining away, leaving nothing but exhaustion in its wake. "And now I'm here." I say, my voice barely audible. "Trying to figure out if there's anything left of me worth saving." 

The room is silent for a moment, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air. Finally, the counsellor speaks, her voice gentle but firm. "Thank you for sharing, Jacob. That was incredibly brave." 

I don't feel brave. I feel exposed, like I've just torn open a wound for everyone to see. But when I glance around the circle, I don't see judgement in their eyes. I see understanding. 

And for the first time in a long time, I feel like maybe I'm not as alone in this journey as I thought.