Page 91 of Loyalty

Or rather … someone else.

John.

Sitting in the office of her oldest brother’s favorite restaurant, Siena’s gaze drifted between the three-inch high pile of documents she had just finished printing out, and the business accounts she had pulled up on the screen. While she electronically filed everything, she kept a physical backup just in case.

She still had things left to do.

Shit to go over.

Her finger hovered on the mousepad of the laptop. On the screen, the cursor rested on top of the web browser. She didn’t use the work computers for personal business. Not that she couldn’t, it was just the way she kept work and everything else separate.

Still, she clicked on the browser.

The office door was open, but the sounds of the restaurant filtering down the hall told her no one was coming. Kev had stepped out a while ago saying something about being hungry.

Siena still kept one eye on the door, and one eye on the Google search bar as she started typing in keywords.

Something had stuck with her for the whole week. Something just wouldn’t let go of her mind. It kept going back there even when she tried to force it out for good.

She kept telling herself that it wasn’t her business. The medications she had found in John’s place was his thing to deal with, and he would tell her if he wanted to.

And yet … she wanted to know.

Siena typed in Lithium, and hit the enter button. The first thing to come up was the metal element, but she scrolled down past that, and clicked on the medical information. She already kind of knew what the drug was used to treat—mostly being that it was a psychiatric medication. Clicking on the link that directed to a medical page dedicated to the drug, she found a list of disorders that Lithium was specifically targeted to.

She clicked on the back button, and came to the Google page again. This time, she added psychotherapy and Lithium into the search bar, and then hit the enter button. The first thing to come up on the page was some article on the correlation of the medication lithium being best used in conjunction with therapy.

The following pages that came up in the search continued to use the same disorder again and again in the preview texts.

Bipolar.

Major Depressive Disorder.

Mania.

Siena clicked on a link, and read down through the information. Just as fast, she went back and clicked on another. And then another.

Back on the search bar, she added in new keywords—other meds she remembered from the cupboard. All over again, the information seemed to lead straight to a cocktail that suggested Bipolar.

A huge part of her wanted to close the browser down because none of this was supplied by Johnathan. He had not told her these things, and she didn’t even know for sure if this was what he was dealing with behind closed doors.

Another part of her wanted to … understand.

If this was a part of his life, and something he was managing privately, she wanted to know more about it.

So, she went back to the search bar again. She typed in, Bipolar, and hit enter. She read through signs and symptoms, and how it was managed. Information came up on things like mania, cycles, and the depression that so often trailed those dealing with the disorder.

She found accounts from people who explained what their mania had been like for years before it was finally properly diagnosed. Not to mention, the things they had done to those around them during the spells, and the way their lives had been upended in the struggle for help.

Some of it was frightening.

Some of it was uplifting.

A lot of it was hopeful.

A bipolar diagnosis for a lot of people seemed to be a relief. An actual confirmation that yes, they did feel things differently, and see the world and themselves in a different way. They processed emotional events or feelings at a different pace, and most of the time, at a far greater intensity. It didn’t mean they were crazy, but rather, had to use different treatments and methods to manage the aspects of bipolar that negatively impacted them.

Siena just kept reading. She kept looking for more information, and a better understanding. She was a good thirty minutes into reading before voices directly outside the office finally made her blink away from the screen.