Page 46 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

Siena’s head fell back, giving him access to her throat, but it also let him see what he was doing to her. The way pleasure wrote heavily in her eyes, and in the shape of her lips when his name fell from her mouth.

So beautiful.

He hadn’t lied.

She was perfect.

Her song when she came out high and broken with only his name. “John, John, John.”

She was like an ocean, he thought.

Like his mind sometimes was—large, wide, deep, and dangerous. Something he could get lost in, and something amazing to see. Frightening, too, but also too alluring to stay away from.

She could be the ocean.

He didn’t mind drowning.

John listened for any sounds coming from Siena’s bedroom as he dug inside the suit jacket he had discarded the night before. She was sleeping soundly, but he still took great effort not to make much noise while he searched for his pill case.

Just in case he wasn’t home in the morning, he liked to bring along a smaller case that took care of his morning meds. Lithium, an anticonvulsant, and Zoloft. The final pill he set out on the counter was a mood stabilizer to keep the Zoloft in check with the rest of the pills. Sometimes one pill needed another pill to counteract the emotional or mental side effects it could have by mixing one with another.

Depending on the state of his current cycle, John’s meds needed to be changed accordingly. He had become accustomed to knowing which meds he needed depending on where he was in his disorder. Any antidepressants during spells of depression meant no mood stabilizers, and no Lithium as they severely worsened and darkened his moods and thoughts to dangerous levels.

His new mix of meds—compliments of the therapist he had been seeing since his release—however, continued to leave him in a fog that he couldn’t escape from.

Sometimes, it was a delicate balance. A balance that could easily be upset by things like a change in dose, or a new pill. Other times, it was an emotional upset that just couldn’t be contained for whatever reason. Just like that, his balance would be tipped in a bad direction, and it only went downhill from there.

John had learned over the years not to fear that downhill slide. He could go months without having any kind of episode, be it manic, depression, or a mix of the two. He’d gone years without experiencing one once, but eventually, it would happen. Another manic cycle would start, and the mania festered until it got worse and worse.

It could be days.

It could stretch on for a couple of weeks.

Months.

And then the mania broke, and all John was left with was a blinding, crippling depression that coated his mind with blackness and dark thoughts. A depression that took all the euphoria-like feelings from the mania, and exhausted him emotionally and physically.

Still, he didn’t fear the cycle.

He couldn’t.

Not when it was just who he was.

Those four little pills he set out on Siena’s counter—ones he took every morning—were just one of the many things he did to keep his disorder balanced. Despite his reservations about the new med regime, he opted to give it a fair try like the therapist wanted him to. There was still so much more to managing his disorder, too.

Medication. Diet. Exercise. Therapy.

Everyday.

Over and over.

Yet, he felt shame.

People heard bipolar and thought crazy. They thought, highs and lows. No one realized how much bipolar could vary between person to person. Or they looked at him like he was unstable, and might freak out any minute. The stigma around his disorder, and mental health in general, left him feeling very alone.

No one understood.

He didn’t know how to explain it.