A Life On The Edge

PTSD

“Dylan told me what happened. Well…River told me what happened.” Lyle whispered at he crawled into bed later that night.

“Oh yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not.” I cried. He wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled his face into my neck.  

“You always have me you know that?” I nodded. “I love you baby. We’ll get through this I promise. You got to be nicer to River though.”

“I can’t.” I cried.

“He loves you Riley. I can’t really tell you why because you’re so rude to him, but all he ever wants to talk about is Riwy.” He said mimicking River’s tiny voice. I giggled. “Did you get a look at his arm?” I shook my head. “He asked me if he did a good job. He wanted to know if it looked like yours.” I frowned.

“He’s a sweet kid.”

“He is.” Lyle nodded in agreement.

“But…I can’t handle being around him. I don’t know why but the sight of him makes me sick. My stomach churns and I get so angry whenever you guys compare me to him. I’m not him.”

“I know. He’s just so small and you’ve been in a similar situation.”

“I’m not him!” he stared at me and nodded.

“Okay.”

“I don’t want your pity.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t need it! I lived my whole life without pity from anyone. I don’t want it and I don’t need it. So save it for someone who does.”

“Riley I’m sorry. I…I just want to help.”

“If you want to help, treat me like you normally would. Not like I’m just some china doll. I’m not made out of glass and I’m not going break if you get mad at me. I’m a tough girl. Stop treating me like I’m some grieving widow, because I’m not.”

“I would treat you normal but you’re not acting like your normal self. You’re always sad. You have this permanent look like you’re going to cry and it breaks my heart. You sleep all the time, and when you are awake you seem miserable. If you’re not sad you’re raging. You’re slamming things, you cussing everyone out, you push me away. I want to help, I really do.”

“I warned you.” I cried. “I warned you about what I was like off my meds.”

“This is more than just bi-polar Riley.” He frowned. “A lot of shit happened back home, a lot in a short amount of time. If your still reeling from it that’s understandable. Just talk to us.” I didn’t want to talk. I don’t like talking. “Tina knows a guy,” I rolled my eyes. “She used to be a receptionist for some psycho-therapist real close to here back when she was trying to become one. He agreed to write a prescription for you,” I sighed with relief. “But…you have to have a one hour session with him.” I frowned.