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“Yeah, of course.” I leaned back on the sofa but didn’t let go of Aria’s hand.
“Have you noticed any changes in mood with Aria? High one minute and then down the next?”
I thought back over the last few months and all of the times she would push everything down and act like it was all okay. “There have been times where she’s”—I turned to face Aria and swallowed—“almost depressed or having an…episode? I don’t know what you’d call it. But she’d be shouting and upset and then it’s as if she clicks her fingers and pushes it all down. In the blink of an eye, she’ll be back to normal.”
Dr. Bay wrote on a pad as she nodded. “Okay. And I’ve already spoken to you about the incident that caused you to call me this morning, which indicated to me what may be happening.” She leaned back in her seat and glanced at me, then focused on Aria. “I need you to know, Aria, it’s very important you are completely honest with me. I won’t be able to help you if you’re not. I know it’s hard, especially after some of the things we’ve talked about—your dad in particular—but I need to ask you one more time, is there anything else you’re not telling me?”
The air in the room swirled, and I stared at the side of Aria’s face. She’d told me she wouldn’t tell the doctor about her cutting, and I had a feeling the doctor was sensing there was something she was holding back.
“No,” Aria whispered, and my eyes fluttered closed. I hoped she would have— “Yes.” Her hand tightened in mine, and I flung my eyes open. Aria flicked her gaze to mine, the pain and sorrow shining through her eyes almost gutting me. “I haven’t been completely honest.”
“You can do it,” I whispered. “I know you can.”
Aria bit down on her bottom lip, her chest expanding as she tried to calm her breathing, and then she blurted out, “I self-harm.” Her shoulders sagged as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “The first time was when I was thirteen.”
“Thank you for being honest with me, Aria,” the doctor said, the tone of her voice that of a proud mother’s. “Can I ask how you self-harm?”
“I cut,” Aria responded right away, but her eyes were squeezed closed, her hand gripping mine so tight I was starting to lose feeling.
“And how often do you cut?”
“Once a week, maybe?” She paused and opened her eyes, but she stared at the wall. “This last month I’ve been doing it daily.”
“So your low mood has been worse in the last month?” Dr. Bay asked, and I glanced at her, seeing her shoulders pull back. I wasn’t an expert by any means, but the way she was sitting now told me she knew what was happening.
“Yes,” Aria whispered. “Until last night. Last night I felt free. Like I was on top of the world, and nothing could bring me down.”
Dr. Bay closed her notebook and shuffled forward on her seat. “I think that’s enough for today,” she said. “Would you like Cade to be present while I tell you what happens from here?”
Aria squeezed my hand again. “Yes.”
The doctor nodded, her gaze flicking to me very briefly and then landing back on Aria. “I want to do some blood tests to rule out anything else. I have a nurse here who can take those today, and we will get the results in the next day or two.” I gritted my teeth as the doctor kept talking. “But I’m fairly certain they’ll all come back negative. In which case, we will start you on some medication.”
“Medication?” I frowned. “Why does she need medication?”
“Aria?” Dr. Bay called, waiti
ng until she looked at her. “I think you have bipolar disorder.” Aria’s hand went limp in mine. “With the correct course of treatment, you can try and keep it under control, but the most important thing for you to do is see me once a week. Pills can help, but regular visits here will be the backbone of your treatment.”
“So I’m crazy like my dad?” Aria asked, her tone full of heartbreak.
“No.” The doctor leaned forward, almost as if she wanted to touch her and reassure her. “You’re not crazy, Aria. You have a mental disorder. It’s not your fault you have it, it’s just the biology and the way you were made. Events during your childhood would have triggered it, and now that you’ve had a manic episode, we can determine exactly what is happening.”
“Manic episode?” Aria asked, whipping her head around to face me. “I don’t understand, Cade. I don’t—”
“A manic episode is where you experience an extreme high, usually after a significant event,” Dr. Bay interrupted. “I think your low mood and depression over the last month contributed toward it, as well as you turning eighteen.”
Aria stared at me with wide eyes, and I could see this was too much for her to take in on her own. She needed me now more than ever, and I had no intention of letting her down. This wasn’t just someone I cared about. This was the woman I was in love with.
“Baby steps, remember?” I told her, moving closer to her. “One step at a time. First, you get the blood tests.”
“Yes,” Dr. Bay said and ripped a piece of paper out of her notebook. She stood and walked toward us then perched on the edge of the table separating the sofa and her chair. “Write it down. One step at a time.” She handed Aria the paper and a pen. “This way, whenever you feel like it’s all too much, you can look at the list and know what the next step is.”
We both watched as Aria wrote. “Step two is getting the results,” Dr. Bay said. “I think if we schedule an appointment for Wednesday, then we can discuss the results?”
“Wednesday could work. Aria has track practice, but I can bring her afterward,” I said.
“Perfect. Those are the only two steps you have right now. When I see you on Wednesday, we can talk it all through and go from there, how does that sound?”
