Falling

Dr. Johannson sat in his comfy looking armchair, a notepad in hand and his eyes bright, as they observed me. I sat with my back ramrod straight, staring back. It was 4:35, Thursday afternoon, my fist session with the doctor. I had been here for twenty minutes and had barely uttered two words. Dr. Johannson said to take my time, he asked questions I only vaguely remember but he was a patient man it seems.
“How is your husband?” He asked again.
“Fine, I guess.”
“You're still not wearing your ring.”
I absently rubbed my ring finger. I still hadn't put it back on. Really I had not intention of ever wearing it again.
When he realized I wouldn't answer he pressed on. “So, Dylan, have you been having any suicidal thoughts?”
“No.” That was the truth.
“Good. And you've been talking your med?”
I nodded, that was only half true, I hated the medicine but I took them two days ago.
He paused for a half a minute while he wrote something down. My eyes roamed around his office. Various degrees hung on the walls, family pictures, he had two sons it appeared, and a boatload of books.
“Could you please tell me your reasons for trying to take your own life?”
“I'd rather not.” I said before I thought better of it. I need to work with this man, I couldn't have him thinking I was unstable or something.
I took a calming breath, “Have you ever felt so insignificant, so small, that you think the world wouldn't miss you if you wee gone?”
He didn't answer, I didn't want him to. I was hoping to fool Dr. Johannson with some BS filled story but instead I began telling him some truths, knowing he wouldn't, couldn't spill it to my family, to Chris.
“I've been depressed for a good while now, before I was married when I was a teen, this seemed..... so inevitable.”
“Your attempt?”
I nodded. “I don't have any friends, I never had. Madison, my sister, had enough for the both of us. I was an embarrassment to my mother, I'm socially awkward, a little left of center. None of this justifies what I did or why I didn't it but I saw no other way.”
“There's something you aren't telling me.”
“Of course there is. If I completely bear my soul right now, what will there be left to talk about next week, and the week after that, and the week after that, and the week after?” My voice got slower every time I said it. “You get my point.”
Surprisingly Dr. Johannson laughed. “You're right. But I think the root of your problems lies with your childhood and you relationship with your mother it seems.”
It didn't take a doctor to figure that one out. He asked a few more questions and I tried my best to answer with attentiveness but my mind kept slipping away. I had begun thinking or Aiden which wasn't good at all.
“Well, our session will be over soon. Anything else you want to tell me?”
“Nope.” I gave a half smile. I knew he wasn't fooled, he knew something was wrong, how could it not be?

At home over the past few days had went better than expected. Chris and I were getting along rather well. He was back at work and we talked a bit. I told him that things were getting better, and mom wasn't as much of a pain either. Madison was the only one who seemed suspicious of me. She knew I was playing a game, not completely well I might add, but kept her mouth shut. Things started to feel normal. I hadn't been back to the diner and I hadn't called Aiden but I kept remembered his number. I wasn't sure what I felt for him, sure there was an attraction, he was sweet, good looking, smart. But I could say almost the same thing when I first met Chris. Looks are deceiving.

On Friday I felt completely depressed. It was the first day I had truly been alone in the house since the attempt and the pain hit me harder than I expected. Whenever I was alone, those horrible thoughts of worthlessness would creep back into my mind. Leaving me to find a distraction just to get my mind off of it.
I stood in the kitchen, staring at a wall, trying to compose myself. I would not cry. I would not give in. I'm not sure how long I stood there before I heard Chris come but when I finally turned around he was standing in the doorway.
“Hey Dill.”
“Hey.”
“What's wrong? What happened?” He said, walking over to me.
“Nothing.”
I walked over and took a glass from the cabinet, filled it up with water. I should tell him I don't think I can live this way any longer. Why was that so hard? It's the right thing to do, isn't it?
“Chris....” My words failed me.
He walked over and put his hands lightly on my shoulders. All of my courage slipped away. Coward, I thought, I'm nothing more than a coward.
“Dylan, tell me.”
I felt my head lean into his chest, I allowed his arms to wrap around me. I felt a tear fall, landing on his crisp white shirt.
“I'm fine.” I whispered.”
I kept my head on his chest and closed my eyes. I remember how in the beginning of our relationship things seemed so perfect and moments like this were pure pleasure. Then we saw each others true colours and it went down hill from there.
Chris kissed the top of my red-brown hair. I breath in the scent of his cologne and my arms, which I hadn't realized where around his waist, tightened.
“Well aren't you two a sweet sight.” My step father's voice broke through my trance.
“Henry.” I said, pulling away from Chris. He smiled down at me.
“Hello Chris. Dylan.” He said my name with as much contempt as he could muster.
I hated the man and he hated me. He waited like a vulture and swooped in after my father died. I never trusted him.
“Why are you here?”
“I'm here with your mother and to see you, my daughter.”
“I'm not your daughter.” I hissed.
“Nonsense.” I could here my mother in the living room. I stepped away from Chris and pass Henry to go see her.
“It's good to see you getting back to normal, dear.” He said to my back. I kept walking.
“Mom.”
“Hey Dylan.”
Mom came over and gave me a hug. I was taken aback, she never hugs me. Oh my God she must be dying.
“Mom, are you okay?”
“Yes, Dylan I am. Why wouldn't I be?”
“Okay, so what's up?”
“Well your father and I-”
“Henry.” I corrected.
“Seriously Dylan after all this time you should really accept him as your father.”
“Stepfather yes, but not father. Just because daddy is dead it doesn't mean he never existed.”
“Anyway.” Mom said with an eye roll. She hated talking about dad. “We're leaving for our trip to Antigua tomorrow.” I remembered now that she had said something about it a month or so ago. “I just wanted to see you and Christopher before we leave. We'll be gone for three weeks.”
“That long?”
“Yes it's long overdue.”
“Mmm-hmm.” That was my mother for you. She never let anything stand in the way of a carefully planned vacation, not even a suicidal daughter. “Have fun.”
“Dear. Chris seems to be taking care of you really well.”
“Ugh huh.”
“So my being gone won't disrupt your recovery.” She said the last word slowly.
“Ugh huh.”
“Plus we both need this time off. Your fath- step father, “She corrected when I made a face. “has been working hard and dealing with you kids can be exhausting.”
“Ugh huh.” My mother barely worked and as far as dealing with us kids, the statement was laughable. “Like I said have fun.”
“Did you tell her about the trip?” Henry said as he and Chris joined us in the living room.
“Yes dear.”
“Do you think she'll be okay while were gone?” Mom said to Chris, as if I wasn't in the room.
It was Henry who answered. “Oh honey, you should have seen them when I came in the kitchen. All lovey dovey, hugging and all. I think you needn't worry. Chris has things under control isn't that right?” He patter his shoulder.
“I'm right here.” I reminded them, raising my hand slightly. “Don't mind me.”
“Dylan.” Mom said sternly.
Chris came to stand by my side and wrapped and arm around my waist. “We'll be fine. Dr. Johannson thinks she'll have a full recovery, she' doing so well now.”
Is that right? Did Dr. Johannson actually say that or was Chris pulling shit out of his ass just to convince mom and Henry I was okay? I didn't ask.
Mom and Henry didn't stay too much longer.
“Enjoy Antigua, oh and bring us something back.” Chris said as they were leaving.
“We will.” Mom replied.
I started for the stairs after the door closed, Chris followed me. I was tired, I knew he was too having worked all day. I let him hold my hand, and after we made it to the bedroom I let him kiss me. I didn't resist when he took of my clothes, or when he took of his own. I got in bed with him and numbed myself to it all. I didn't want to feel a thing, a good distraction is what I needed. And it's what I got.
Chris really believed I was on the road to recovery, while I thought I was only beginning to spin out of control.