𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭 - 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒘 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝒈𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒓

coping mechanisms

Light poked its way through the soft blue curtains in Vienna's childhood bedroom. Her head was pounding, a regular occurrence for her these days. She reached into her nightstand and found an array of pill bottles. Squinting at the small labels, she grabbed her anti-depressant and some ibuprofen and stretched toward the floor for some sort of liquid to choke down the pills.

The room existed as a metaphor for her own subconscious. Food, clothes, and an assortment of junk littered the grim carpet along the floor. The walls held images of the last twenty-something years. A reminder of everything that once was and all that she was so reluctant to face. 

But Vienna knew a bedroom wouldn't draw her away from the images of her father that played on loop in her mind. It felt like her dad had been gone for years and yet the vision of his casket dropping into the grave still played in her head like a broken VHS.

She stared at the ceiling a minute or two before finding her phone attached to its busted chord.

7:48 AM

She grimaced. The last thing she wanted to do these days was get out of bed. Nine months ago, her biggest concern was how to adjust to grad school an hour away. Now she worked two jobs everyday with the hope that something better would come. It seemed her life has veered onto an entirely new trajectory since that night in January.

She opened Instagram and was greeted with photos from her friends from school. Old friends, she should say. It's not as if anyone came rushing to the side of the depressed twenty-something who couldn't seem to get her life together. They were boasting on about new jobs and beautiful vacations as the summer came to a close. She clicked on one of her old friend's pages.

@ mirandamayy

"SO glad to have spent these past few weeks in the beautiful city of Madrid. Guys!! Romanticize these moments before you miss out on them forever!"

Nice advice. She scoffed, "I don't have shit to romanticize." She was a college graduate with a dead dad making $3 an hour as a waitress. Like a scene from a movie... Nevertheless, she was going to be late if she didn't get up.

The carpet beneath her feet was worn and dry as she dug through the piles of clothes on the floor. It was hard to differentiate between clean and dirty, not that she could bring herself to care. Vienna had come to terms with the feeling of numbness she found within her these days. Her therapist encouraged that this was only temporary, that something better was coming. She wanted to believe that, really, but she couldn't help but feel trapped in the imaginary walls of her hometown.

--------

She pulled into the diner parking lot and braced herself for her first of two shifts that day. There was no way she was going to make it to grad school without her jobs. When dad's life insurance payout never came, she had called and was informed that suicide didn't count toward any benefits. Needless to say her therapist heard all of that months ago. By now she came to terms with that much. But the work never got any less humiliating.

"Hey Anne!" a warm voice came calling from the kitchen as she stepped through the doors.

After her father died, Vienna had sworn off her first name. The name bore too much of a reminder of her dad. And of nights where he would play Billy Joel on the old CD player and dance around the living room with her. "You were named after a place full of beauty and of life, and after a song that emulates the same. Don't ever forget your worth," he would tell her. His words still ring in her ears each time she hears her first name allowed.

"Hey Diona." Her voice must've sounded chipper and light to those who didn't know her. But Diona knew better. She could hear the raspy sorrow underneath Vienna's attempts at a cheerful presence. Though she was old enough to be her grandmother, Diona was the closest thing Vienna had to a friend in the year after her father died.

"How are you, really?" Her tone was harsh, but it's what Vienna needed to hear. She couldn't cry right now, Diona could see in her face that it meant a lot to know that someone truly cared.

Vienna shook her head. "I just don't know how much longer I can do this." Her voice cracked beneath the charade of cheer. "I can't be here, Di."

"Oh baby." Diona pulled her into a hug. Vienna wasn't one for physical touch, especially after her father's death. But Di's hugs were otherworldly. They were warm and inviting and full of life. Vienna nuzzled deep into Diona's embrace, the smell of pie crust lingering on her clothing.

Diona placed her hands on Vienna's face. "You always have a choice, me dear." They were words Vienna had heard before. But they never felt more true than when coming from her dear friend.

She brushed Di off, but those words held still in the back of Vienna's mind. She knew in her heart that she was nowhere close to paying for grad school. But that didn't necessarily mean she was as trapped as she had thought.