Crutch
01.
I woke up, thinking today was just going to be one of those days where I still felt depressed, still felt helpless, still wanted a new life. By noon, I was still thinking it was just one of those days where I hated my life.
By evening, something inside of me snapped. I was on my third glass of Coke and rum, trying to numb the pain as I usually did. My phone was hidden, as I usually forced myself to do to prevent drunk dialing. My thoughts began to turn against me.
"You'll never amount to anything."
"You're worthless."
"Rosa doesn't love you, she's desperate. Like you."
"Waste of space."
"Go die."
Cloudy-eyed and determined, I began a long search for my phone. Tears streamed down my cheeks in my desperate attempt, making my head laugh at me even more.
"You're a failure."
"Can't even find your phone! Pathetic!"
But it was almost as if angels intervened and made it ring. I strained my ears, listening to learn the direction it was coming from.
"In your laundry hamper? Honestly, when will you move past age five?"
Still crying, I threw aside dirty shirts and sweaty-smelling socks to find my battered Sidekick buried at the bottom. Unsteady fingers clutched it and found the right button to answer the call.
"Hello?" I sobbed.
"Shawn?" My girlfriend Rosa. Oh, fantastic!
"No, no, I'm sorry, no, no!" I cried.
"Shawn, baby, come on, tell me what's wrong!"
"Everything."
"Like what?"
My words got caught in my throat, like a noose was being tightened around my neck.
"Well dear, I fear that this ship is sinking tonight."
"Wait, what?" Rosa asked.
"I'm not coming home tonight. I just...I'm tired of this life. I don't want it. I can't believe it's come to this."
"Shawn! Where is this coming from?!"
"I'm a drunk," I slurred out. "Don't ignore the fact."
"But-"
"You can't trust a drunk."
"Well, you may be numbing your pain, but really, what's it fixing?"
I couldn't answer her. Exhaustion took over my body, causing me to collapse back onto the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. A mixture of snot and tears covered my cheeks, making me look even more like a wreck. Rosa was saying something I couldn't understand, but I needed to hear her voice to keep me from leaving the world right then and there in the bathroom.
Only minutes--which felt like days--later, I stopped hearing her voice through my phone. I thought she was part of my ordinary drunken hallucinations when I saw her standing in the doorway of my bathroom. Her hand flew to her mouth while she studied my limp body.
"Oh God," I heard her whisper. "God, help."
She rushed to my side, knowing that all I needed was comfort.
"Shawn, I'm here. I'm not leaving. Can you sit up for me?"
I couldn't, so she helped raise my body to rest against the cabinets.
"Now we're going to get you to stand, okay?"
I nodded (to the best of my ability) and offered her my hand. With all her strength, she pulled me to my wobbly feet.
"You can't even stand on two fucking feet with a substance as a crutch," she whispered fiercely.
"I love you, Rosa," I slurred, although I was seeing so many of her that I didn't know which one to look at.
"I know," she replied with a smile. "That's why I'll be your crutch from now on."
By evening, something inside of me snapped. I was on my third glass of Coke and rum, trying to numb the pain as I usually did. My phone was hidden, as I usually forced myself to do to prevent drunk dialing. My thoughts began to turn against me.
"You'll never amount to anything."
"You're worthless."
"Rosa doesn't love you, she's desperate. Like you."
"Waste of space."
"Go die."
Cloudy-eyed and determined, I began a long search for my phone. Tears streamed down my cheeks in my desperate attempt, making my head laugh at me even more.
"You're a failure."
"Can't even find your phone! Pathetic!"
But it was almost as if angels intervened and made it ring. I strained my ears, listening to learn the direction it was coming from.
"In your laundry hamper? Honestly, when will you move past age five?"
Still crying, I threw aside dirty shirts and sweaty-smelling socks to find my battered Sidekick buried at the bottom. Unsteady fingers clutched it and found the right button to answer the call.
"Hello?" I sobbed.
"Shawn?" My girlfriend Rosa. Oh, fantastic!
"No, no, I'm sorry, no, no!" I cried.
"Shawn, baby, come on, tell me what's wrong!"
"Everything."
"Like what?"
My words got caught in my throat, like a noose was being tightened around my neck.
"Well dear, I fear that this ship is sinking tonight."
"Wait, what?" Rosa asked.
"I'm not coming home tonight. I just...I'm tired of this life. I don't want it. I can't believe it's come to this."
"Shawn! Where is this coming from?!"
"I'm a drunk," I slurred out. "Don't ignore the fact."
"But-"
"You can't trust a drunk."
"Well, you may be numbing your pain, but really, what's it fixing?"
I couldn't answer her. Exhaustion took over my body, causing me to collapse back onto the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. A mixture of snot and tears covered my cheeks, making me look even more like a wreck. Rosa was saying something I couldn't understand, but I needed to hear her voice to keep me from leaving the world right then and there in the bathroom.
Only minutes--which felt like days--later, I stopped hearing her voice through my phone. I thought she was part of my ordinary drunken hallucinations when I saw her standing in the doorway of my bathroom. Her hand flew to her mouth while she studied my limp body.
"Oh God," I heard her whisper. "God, help."
She rushed to my side, knowing that all I needed was comfort.
"Shawn, I'm here. I'm not leaving. Can you sit up for me?"
I couldn't, so she helped raise my body to rest against the cabinets.
"Now we're going to get you to stand, okay?"
I nodded (to the best of my ability) and offered her my hand. With all her strength, she pulled me to my wobbly feet.
"You can't even stand on two fucking feet with a substance as a crutch," she whispered fiercely.
"I love you, Rosa," I slurred, although I was seeing so many of her that I didn't know which one to look at.
"I know," she replied with a smile. "That's why I'll be your crutch from now on."