Ever growing 2

Chapter 16 Ryan's POV

A week later

"Hi, my name is Ryan and I have a drinking issue." I still won't use the word alcoholic.

"Hello Ryan!" the whole group responds.

I've been here for a day and it's way harder than I thought. I knew I had an issue, but them trying to label me is pissing me off. "Don't they realize I was under pressure? This isn't my normal behavior!" I tell them my story because that's what I'm expected to do. Makes me feel like shit, a complete failure. When I tell them I had to leave my wife all alone, pregnant to go to work; I see judgment in their eyes. They pretend not to judge but I see it. Then to make things worse, I start bawling when I tell them she lost the baby. I go silent, unable to finish my story. I'm told it's enough for today.

Listening to some of their stories makes me wonder why they were judging me. One of them tried to kill his girlfriend after she flushed his liquor down the toilet. Then another girl said she would prostitute herself to pay for her fix. "What the hell am I doing here? I miss Ella!"

An hour later, the meeting finally ends allowing me to go back to my room. They took my phone away when I got here, no computer, just a tv, and some paper and pens. They told me I could try to write about my feelings. I take a pen and write:

My wife got pregnant. I left her alone. She lost the baby probably from the stress of being alone. I failed her. I started drinking to forget about it. I'm a loser.

"There that's the story." I think to myself pushing the sheet away. I've never felt that tormented in my life even after my childhood trauma. Just a week ago when I got reunited with her, life was better. She was angry at first but she forgave me. I got butterflies being around her, touching her, pleasing her. We love each other and nothing can change that.

There's a knock on my door, Jason, the one who hosted the group earlier walks in.

"Hey Ryan, can we talk?"

"I guess." I sit on the chair.

"When was the last time you had a drink?" he asks without wasting time.

"A week ago or so, why?" I lie. I'm not sure why I felt the need to but I did.

"Are you sure?" He cocks his eyebrow.

"Fine! I had one drink on the plane."

"Why did you just lie?" he asks.

"Because I didn't want you to judge me."

Ella had to go home so I flew here by myself. Feeling stressed out, I requested a drink on the flight, just one fucking drink. The anger builds within me again.

"We don't judge, you may find it hard to believe but it's the truth. I see you wrote something here, can I read it?" Jason asks, pointing at the paper. I shrug pushing the paper towards him. He then tells me I should add to it. I need to elaborate on my emotions, he says. Seeing I'm not in the mood to talk anymore, he says he'll see me tomorrow.

I throw an empty glass against the wall once the door is shut. Pieces are scattered everywhere. "Why is this so hard?" I got stressed out which made me drink but I'm not sick. I just need time to bounce back. I was feeling better with Ella by my side. Maybe I just need to leave and go back to her.

My hand grabs the doorknob ready to walk out but I stop in my tracks. "Ella told you to get help, you owe it to her!" I remember the promise I made her in Calgary. Turning around, I lay on the bed wishing I could at least call her. Hearing her voice always makes me feel better.

After a while, I sit up, reaching for my sheet. "Alright, let's try again!" I hold the pen writing down random words. Ella, father, stress, guilt, love, family, memories, fear. I'm not even sure why I wrote half of them but they just came to me. I still wish I could talk to Ella but I'm also thinking talking to my mother would be nice. I've always been close to her and I know she wouldn't judge me. She knows I'm here, she told me it's important to complete the treatment. She would know.