This Is Torturous

Back in Arizona, I was dreading the weekend. The weekend meant John would be home in two days, and I wasn't ready for that, yet. I was ready to pack up and run away, but I wasn't a coward. I could never run away from John no matter how much I felt like I wanted to. There would always be a bigger part of me that would stay because I loved him.

Winter went home on Tuesday night, after having a meeting with the bank about her loan for the store. I was running on reserve power/energy and felt more drained than ever before. I had finished the layout for the new store Tuesday night at around 4:30, after I woke up from a terrible dream I couldn't remember. I would scan it and send it to Winter at work in the morning.

I was averaging one and a half to two and a half hours of sleep a night and living on Starbucks coffee and yogurt granola bars. Everything else was unappetizing and made me nauseous. I'd never been so thin before. You could really see it in my face. I was so disgusted with myself.

Wednesday was the day I spent doing most of the bills in the back room. It wasn't that busy. Only Ronnie and I were scheduled and I was going to be in the back room all morning until the afternoon rush hit.

My phone wasn't ringing. All of the emails had been returned. I had Local Natives' “Gorilla Manor” playing and had told Ronnie not to bother me unless it was an emergency. Being gone all weekend left the books off and the bills stacked up. At least I was math-minded enough and good at balancing bills. I worked well with both my right and left brain.

I'd woken up feeling off, but that wasn't really different from every other day. There was a shift in my energy and I felt more exhausted than ever before. Not to mention the lightheadedness I'd been experiencing since Sunday in Vegas. My whole body felt light as I sat in the back room of L'Amour's. I was having the absolute worst time trying to focus on the excel spreadsheet in front of me, my vision going spotty occasionally. All I wanted to do was put my head down on the desk and sleep for days.

As I went to punch in a few numbers on the keypad, I noticed my hands shaking. I sat and watched as they shook, making it look like I was unstable (I was). “Maybe I should try eating something”, I thought to myself before slowly standing up. My legs felt like jello as I put all of my weight on them. Along with this, my head felt light and I couldn't focus on anything. It wasn't going away like it normally would, either.

I grasped tightly onto the back of the chair I had been sitting in and tried to shake the feeling out of my head. This only made it worse. My forehead began to sweat and it felt like my whole body went numb. Suddenly, my whole body felt heavy and my eyes rolled to the back of my head as I went down.

When I woke up, I was expecting to at least be on the couch in the back room of L'Amour's. That's not where I was, though. Where I was had a sterile smell that burned my nose. It could only be the hospital. Absolutely wonderful.

My head was pounding and my mouth was dry. There was oxygen being pumped into my nose through a cannula and an IV in my arm near the crease of my elbow. I wondered how long I had been there. The bag was about an inch full. I wondered if anyone was there.

Lolling my head to the right, I noticed Ryder sitting on the row of cupboards underneath the window, scrolling through something on his phone. Feeling my stare, his eyes lifted slowly and met mine. “Oh, you're up.” He pressed the lock button on top of the iPhone then pocketed it, “How does it feel to be in the hospital for exhaustion and malnutrition?”

Lifting my right arm – the one without the needle sticking out of it – I rubbed my face, “Shitty. I feel like I've been hit by a bus.”

“Oh suck it up, you didn't even have surgery. You just passed out.”

“How long was I out for?”

Ryder shrugged, “No one knows, really. Ronnie found you at about 12:15.”

I winced, “The last time I had looked at the clock was 11:45, so I probably passed out at around twelve.”

“It's two-thirty now.”

“Awesome.” I croaked out, shutting my eyes from exhaustion.

“I'll go get a nurse.” He said before he got up and sauntered out of the room.

I couldn't believe the low I was at. I was in the hospital. Who actually gets hospitalized for exhaustion other than celebrities? As I lied there, staring at the ceiling tiles, Ryder returned with a short, blonde woman who looked to be in her late twenties/early thirties.

“Nice to see you awake, Sparrow.” She said as she rounded the bed to my right side. I didn't know what to say, so I stayed quiet, “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” I answered as she lifted my wrist and pressed her fingers to my pulse point.

She looked down at her watch and counted my heart rate, “That should be normal.” She said once she let go of my wrist. Her feet brought her around to my left side where she checked the bag that was being injected into my veins, “We're pumping nutrients into your blood, so hopefully you feel better.” She smiled at me and I nodded, “The doctor will be in here shortly.” I nodded again and she was out of the room.

“Do you want me to call John?” Ryder questioned.

My eyes widened and I let out a loud “No!” Ryder stared at me, taken aback by my reaction, “He can't know about this.” My best friend sent me a disapproving look, making me look away from him. I was too ashamed. I couldn't believe this was what it had come to.

“Hello!” An older African-American man in a lab coat said as he walked through the door, “I'm Dr. Ritter.” He introduced himself, “How are you feeling, Sparrow?”

“Tired.” I answered again.

Dr. Ritter chuckled, “I bet. Do you have any idea why you could have possibly fainted?”

I winced, “I haven't been eating or sleeping that much.”

“And why's that?”

“I've been stressed out and having panic attacks on the regular. There's just some stuff in my life that I'm not ready for.”

He nodded, “Your sugar levels were extremely low. That's why you fainted. You're also very sickly looking from malnutrition. You're going to be discharged in about an hour and I recommend seeing a psychologist.”

I nodded, “I'll make an appointment.”

“This is serious, Sparrow. You really need to get some help with whatever you're going through or your body is going to suffer in the long run.”

“Hello, Sparrow. I'd say it's nice to see you, but I told you I didn't want to see you in my office again.” Dr. Lawrence, my old therapist from after Erika died, said as she sat across from me in the same office I was all too familiar with.

I didn't listen when both doctors said I needed to talk to a psychologist. I felt better talking to someone that I was comfortable with talking to. As long as I'm talking to someone it was good, right?

The office hadn't changed much. The walls were still light blue with sponge texture and the windows were still too big. I could still see out into the parking lot of the medical offices Dr. Lawrence's was in. And I could still see the once small trees across the street that had grown quite a bit since I'd been there last. The sky was overcast, almost dark, and looked a bit nasty. How fitting.

“Trust me, I tried not to come back here.” I laughed despite it not being funny.

“But then you ended up in the hospital.” She said, sitting down in the big, overly stuffed, dark blue chair across the room from me. It made her look so much smaller than she was.

I nodded once, “But then I ended up in the hospital.”

“Why exactly were you there?”

Letting out a sigh, I leaned into the uncomfortable leather chair I was sitting in, “I've lost my appetite over the last three and a half weeks and haven't been sleeping much. I get one to three hours a night and survive on Starbucks and granola bars. It all finally got to me and I passed out at work.”

“What brought all of this on?”

I looked down at the diamond on my left hand, “My boyfriend proposed on New Years Ever.”

“Why would that upset you?”

Taking my eyes away from the ring, I looked back up at her, “I'm just panicked about it. Every time I think too much into it, I have a panic attack-”

“Oh, so your panic attacks are back?”

I nodded, “It's bad. I get them all the time and I'm,” I sighed heavily, defeated, “so tired of them.”

“What exactly makes you feel so panicked about being engaged? How long have you been with...”

“John,” I finished for her, “We've been together for a year. We met in October 2010, but he went off on tour. While he was gone, I met this guy named Landon and ended up dating him. John came home and was upset, but continued to talk to me. In the end, Landon told me he was only with me for sex – this was right after I told him I loved him – and I had already thrown away my relationship with John for him. I had no idea Landon was using me. John and I were fighting. It's a long story, but we ended up together a week after New Years. In April, he moved into my apartment and we've been happy ever since. Until he proposed.”

“It sounds like you guys have moved pretty quickly. Where is he right now?”

“He's in the UK and is coming home Monday.” I thought back to what she said before, “I guess we have moved pretty quickly, but I never really realized. I asked him to move in because he really didn't have anywhere else to go and I didn't see the harm since we spent so much time together to begin with. It didn't seem like moving too fast back then, but now that he wants to get married, it seems too fast.” I pushed my bangs back, causing them to stick up in different directions. It depicted how crazy this was all making me.

“What goes on in your head when someone brings your engagement up?”

My eyes shifted around the room as my head fogged up with anxiety. Swallowing, I clenched my fists, “Well, all I can think about is ending up alone.”

Her brow furrowed, “Why would you end up alone if you marry John?”

“Because everyone I love ends up leaving.”

Dr. Lawrence nodded in understanding, “You're scared that he'll end up leaving you?”

I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes, “Everyone I've ever been with in my life has hurt me in one way or another. And why would he want to marry someone like me? He wouldn't, so obviously he has to have something up his sleeve.” Wiping at my face, I sniffed.

“Sparrow, I haven't met John, so I have no idea what he's like, but I'm sure he's not in this to hurt you. Just because it seems like everyone hurts you in one way or another, be it using you, or dying, doesn't mean everyone will end up doing the same thing.” I sniffed again, “Does he know you're feeling like this?”

I shook my head, “He has no idea what I'm feeling. He knows something is up, but I won't tell him what; I'm too ashamed.”

“Why?”

“Because!” I cried, “I know he loves me, so why do I feel like as soon as we get married, everything is going to change and he's going to hurt me?”

“It's just your defense to being hurt so many times in the past. You're only protecting yourself from what you think is going to happen. You need to let your guard down a little bit and let him know how you're feeling. If he loves you as much as you say he does, he'll understand.”
-----
When I got home from my appointment, Ryder was waiting for me. All I felt like doing was going to sleep, but that wasn't anything new. Talking to Dr. Lawrence really made me feel a bit better and that made me think that maybe everything would be okay.

“How did it go?” Ryder questioned from the couch, where he was scrolling through something on my computer.

“I didn't, like, have a breakthrough or anything.” I set my purse down in the loveseat then collapsed into it. My eyes caught sight of Secret Window on the TV, making me smile on the inside; it was one of my favorites. “I know I need to talk to John, though.”

Ryder scoffed, “Yeah, you do.” His tone shocked me, causing my eyes to widen slightly, “I know I'm not, like, the best person to be telling you what to do, but he doesn't deserve any of this. All he's done is love you and he's probably having the shittiest time on tour right now because he's worried about you.”

Wincing, I covered my face with my hand, “I know, Ryder. You don't have to remind me.”

He rolled his eyes, “I feel like I do, though, because you don't seem to be doing anything about it.”

I shot him the nastiest look I could, “What the fuck do you think I do all day? I think about him.”

“No, all you do is think about the negatives. About what could happen. What about what will most likely end up happening? What'll happen is you guys will get married and he'll love you forever, but honestly, if you keep up your shit, he might not be able to handle it and he'll be gone. You say you don't want to hurt him by telling him what's going on, but you don't realize that you're hurting him by keeping him out of the loop. Someone can only handle so much pain and hurt, Sparrow. Think about that the next time he's on your mind.” He heaved and all I could do was stare at him with big, watery eyes.

“I know you love him. I know you'd be completely devastated if you guys were to ever break up, but I don't think you understand that you might be pushing him away enough that a break up could be inevitable. I love you, Sparrow, but god damn you're so fucked up in the head sometimes.”

How the hell had I missed that the whole time? I was so selfish. I would risk my relationship so I could handle something that turned out to be bigger than myself. Maybe I was a coward after all.