The Suburbs

Untitled Part 26

Inbox:
Mia - call me, it's urgent.

The short, vague email reads from my boss. I'm not sure why but I'm filled with anxiety as I re-read the words; trying to quickly work out what could be so urgent.

I have met all my deadlines and I'm pretty sure my work is still up to a high standard, despite being a little distracted. I rack my brains but the penny isn't dropping. I can't think of anything that would need to be met with such urgency.

I nervously dial the office number, holding my breath as the call tone plays into my ear.

"Mia?" My boss answers quicker than I expected. I'm surprised to hear an anxious tone in her voice. She's usually pretty confident and laid back.

"Yeah. Hi...what's happening? Is everything okay? Have I done everything okay?" I nervously question.

"Oh! Yes, yes of course. It's nothing to do with work."

"Oh?" I grow even more confused.

"It's Alex. I wasn't sure if I should tell you. I know you're both divorced now and you've moved on but the news has spread pretty quick and I didn't want you to hear it through gossip."

I'm suddenly hit with so many mixed emotions. One small part of me is instantly annoyed that she is phoning me with this. This isn't my burden to take anymore. This isn't fair. But the rest of me is sick with nerves. The knot in my stomach is tight, I feel like I'm clenching every part of myself but I can't stop it. My shoulders feel so heavy with stress.

"I...it's..." I realise I haven't managed a response and a long awkward pause has gone by. I do my best to speak but my throat feels dry.
"Is he okay?"

"I don't know. It's been discussed in the offices that Alex was found unconscious in his home after taking a lethal amount of alcohol and some prescription drugs."

Diazepam. It must be. He started relying on them a lot to relax when he felt himself getting panicky, or angry, or anything really. He used it to numb all his feelings. I suspected he was started to abuse it but I couldn't be sure at the time.

"Mia are you still here?"

"I...I'll call him, maybe." I stutter.
"Thank you for letting me know."

"That's really no problem. He's currently in St.Andrew's hospital. If we can do anything to help, please let us know." She kindly offers.

I feel a bit trembly when I hang up the phone which almost seems unfair to me. Alex shouldn't be my problem anymore and yet I still feel responsible.

Could he be really trying to take his own life? Has our divorce tipped him too far? My god, if he died would I be to blame? Was I a factor?

The questions are coming in too quick and I can feel my chest growing tighter with each panicky thought.
Without another second to spare, I grab my car keys from the kitchen counter and head out to take the two hour journey to St.Andrew's hospital to see Alex. I have no idea if he wants to see me, or even whether I want to see him. But as much as I wish I didn't, I do feel responsible. And guilty. I can't just do nothing.

Usually when I get in my car I sort out a playlist or faff around and find a good podcast about mysterious crimes or something to listen and occupy my mind. But now I'm just driving in absolute silence. My own mind is busy enough now without anything else. All I know is that I need to get there, I need to see if he can be okay on his own. If he can keep himself safe so this doesn't happen again. I need to know if I'm to blame, or if he needs me to help. It was one thing when he was self-medicating with alcohol and god knows what else, but I can't sit back and let him take his life.