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Is Olivia right?
Of course she is, dummy. We’ve been here before. Only it’s never been this bad. You can’t hide this forever.
Ignoring my inner dialogue, I continue my thoughts. And if she is right, have I reached a point where I actually need professional help?
No. Yes. Maybe?
A flashback to earlier this week surges forward. That might have been my lowest of the low.
Is help something that’s possible?
My injury won’t change. All I want is to be able to play. I want my constant back, my way of handling life back, but that’s not ever going to happen again. So, why get help? Just so I won’t be miserable? For me to smile and laugh and feel good most of the time? Is it possible?
It doesn’t seem likely. This isn’t my first go-round. This is a lifetime kind of problem. No one wants that, certainly not me. Before now, I’ve always been able to manage it and deny that it was an issue, whatever it is. I’m not about to deem myself depressed just yet. My heart constricts and threatens to explode with the word, so I can only imagine what a diagnosis would do.
However, I’m no longer in control here. And since this dark beast I’m battling has enough power that I can’t manage it anymore, how much longer can I attempt to deny its existence before it unravels me completely?
A couple hours pass between looking at the ceiling and finally making a trip to the grocery store. It becomes apparent that I have too much time on my hands. My mind is working nonstop, thinking about everything and nothing, and I can feel each brain cell running in circles, slamming into the walls of my skull, and dying upon impact as I slowly lose my sanity. Or, it could be the headache I’m getting. Either way, I’m definitely getting another job. Before I head into work, I notice a text from Jonathan from this morning, and one from Lucy just now.
Jon: Hope you’re doing ok, bro. Things will get better. We’re here for you too.
I don’t know if I should be impressed or concerned. Jon isn’t a big texter, and he’s like me; he doesn’t get emotional. So, either he’s really worried or he’s just reaching out to me.
Me: Thanks.
It’s wrong of me, I know, but I’m jealous of him and Patrick. We were a trio, a force to be reckoned with on that field, and now, it’s only them. I’m proud of them, wish them the best of luck, and hope they go far, but I wish I could have those things too. We used to talk football. Not anymore. I avoid talking about it as much as possible because I can’t stomach the thought of it. Like speaking of it would be like me pretending it’s still my game, when it’s not.
Sighing, I open Lucy’s.
Lucy: Just wanted to say I love you. :) <3 Do something fun this weekend, okay?
Me: Love you, Luce. I will.
Fun.
What does fun even mean anymore?
Work drags by with the exception of having to escort a couple of rowdy drunks out. It’s late when I get home and freezing cold outside. My eyes naturally glance at Olivia’s door before I reach my own. I wonder if she’s still awake.
Something in me wants to find out. I don’t want to go home yet. Olivia said she would be there if I wanted someone around, and as of this second, I want someone around. Leaving my apartment behind, I cross the hallway and knock tentatively on her door. Hope she’s not sleeping.
“Just a second!” I hear her yell.
A feeling of relief passes through me. But two minutes later, she still hasn’t come to the door. I’m about to give up when she opens it.
“Oh, hey. Sorry, I didn’t want to hit pause on my game. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just got back from work, and I…” I what? What in the hell am I doing here?
“Want to come in?” Olivia finishes for me, stepping aside so I can do so.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” She leads me into her living room where there’s a car on the TV and a controller to a game system on the coffee table. She was playing a racing video game? I haven’t done that since I was a kid with my brothers. “Want to play?” she asks as we sit down on the couch. “This is like my escape. I should warn you that I’m very competitive, though.”
I take the controller she hands me. “Do you drive here like you do in real life?”
Olivia laughs, shaking her head before smirking at me. “Yes, and I’m even better in the game.”
