d e r e k
Today is what Danny liked to call a 'chill-day' at the clinic. Activities are cancelled for twenty-four hours and patients are allowed to just wander around or stay in their room. Some are even allowed outside- with a special note from Dr. Martin, that is, that I sure as hell don't have. For the day, Sydney- the happiest out of all our little group, which can get more than a little annoying, but I still admire it- has decided we must spend it together.
Kane, Sydney, Sam- who we finally managed to make come out of her room- and I began our journey to find some place to hangout, but found nowhere. Eventually we settled for the library, much to Kane's distaste (something about hating books), but as we settled into a corner in a circle, he decided it wasn't half bad.
Sydney had gone earlier and asked for something to snack on, so the workers gave her a bag of potato chips, which now sit in the middle of our circle, being moved for easier access to people who wanted some. Right now, the bag is in Kane's lap and I have to reach across the circle to grab some.
Right now, Kane is a lot calmer than Friday night. He had taken his medication this morning, and though he's still jittery over things and how many times he does something, he's tolerable. More than tolerable, actually. When I'm not tackling him, Kane manages to be more than okay company, much to my relief. He's easy to talk and relate to, and unlike Danny, isn't intimidating. Actually, he's not even close to being intimidating. If anyone thinks I have anxiety, then they should look at Kane.
No one needs to think it, though, because it's already stated on my wristband. I sigh. I had hoped that maybe once my anxiety lessened a little- which it has- they would take the diagnoses off of my wristband, but I have no such luck. I hate the reminder, though; after three weeks of constantly staring at it, it's been drilled into my head, reminding me again and again of how messed up I am.
I sigh as Sydney's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Let's do something fun."
I give her a lazy look. "We're in a mental clinic. Did you really just say that?"
Sydney grins broadly. I think back to her outburst on Friday, which had reviled the real severity of her mental illness. Workers and patients had been freaked out, but after Sydney had been taken to Dr. Harris and had been calmed down, she easily bounced back to her happy self. Sydney nudges me. "Come on, Derek! You're all boring."
"I'm depressed," I say. "I'm not supposed to be interesting."
"I have OCD," Kane pipes in. "I can't be interesting."
Sam gestures to her mouth, which says enough.
Sydney groans. "Guys! Just because your wristbands and Dr. Martin say you're that, doesn't mean you can let it define you!" She turns to me. "Derek, I get that when you hear depression, you think of someone who's upset and never has fun. But it doesn't have to be like that! You can't use that as an excuse!" Looking to Sam, she continues, "Sam, just because you don't talk doesn't mean you don't have character. You're an amazing person either way. It's why Derek obviously has a crush on you."
"Sydney!" I splutter.
She ignores mine and Sam's blush and turns to Kane. "Just because you like things perfect, doesn't make you a freak. In my opinion, it makes you even more perfect." She turns back to me and laughs. "Pick your jaw off of the floor, Derek."
I close my mouth, which had been hanging open in pure shock. Maybe it was the way Sydney talked; with more confidence than I had ever heard someone speak at the clinic. Maybe it was the hope that was so evident in her voice, so stuck on the fact that we're not completely messed up. Maybe it's just the way her eyes shined with a happiness I'm still looking for.
