Life After You

A muscled arm sneaks out from underneath the duvet, blindly groping for the offending article that is chiming
.
"Hello?" He mumbles.

"Jeremy, it's mom. How are you,honey?" His mother's chirpy voice vibrates down the line.

Jeremy sits up a bit and feels the cool air attacking his skin.

"I'm fine, mom. It's four-thirty in the morning" he says his voice sleepy.

"Oh, I forgot all about the time difference. I'm just used to talking to you every day. I'll call you back in a few hours. Night, honey"

Jeremy sighs heavily and shakes his head. He loves his mom to bits, but she really can be a scatter-brain sometimes.
Within minutes he is back asleep.

Jeremy drums his fingers on the arm of the chair to a rhythm in his head. He is waiting to see Kelly for their scheduled weekly appointment. Since getting her number he had only called her a handful of times, believing it was unnecessary to make her take her work home with her.
There were dozens of times where he really wanted to call her. But for some reason he couldn't bring himself to call her. She had sent him a few text messages asking if he was okay and he always said that he was. He realised that day in the hospital after being found unconscious that she didn't need to visit him.

"How are you feeling today?" Kelly asks brightly.

"I'm okay" he replies "exhausted"

"The antidepressants can do that. How are you sleeping?"

"Like a log. I feel a bit like a zombie."

Kelly notes this down. She explains that when his body and mind become rested, he will feel stronger to deal with the issues.

"And how are you doing with the drinking and taking prescription pills?" She leans over her desk like a high school principle.

Anxiously he licks his lips.
He doesn't know what to say in fear of sounding weak. He doesn't want to admit that he is still pouring cheap vodka down his throat until he vomits and popping pills every second of the day.

"It's okay to find this hard, Jeremy. You're dealing with an emotional situation and you're finding comfort in something. How much did you drink yesterday?" Her voice changes from professional to a soft concern.

"Maybe a bottle and a half of whisky" he says finally

"And the pills?"

"A few handfuls"

Kelly writes this down. She needs to be able to see a reduction on his intake of alcohol and medication.

"Which pills?"

"Ambien. Xana. Oxycontin. Diazpam."

Kelly feels her stomach drop. This lethal cocktail of prescription medication is enough to kill when mixed on their own or with alcohol. She had asked him at the hospital where he got them from since neither she or his doctor had prescribed them. Jeremy admitted sadly that he had contacted someone he knew in the passing from high school who sold drugs, mostly prescription medications and the odd bit of cocaine.

"I need to tell you this and I know you don't want to hear it, but these pills will seriously damage your body if you keep taking them" she says seriously "Your kidneys and liver will become damaged and will eventually quit on you"

Jeremy's eyes fall to the floor.

"You will die from the damage."