Party 'til you pass out / When the party's over

(This one is long, sorry if it's a bit boring. I had some holes to cover up)

Oliver

A few weeks past, weeks in where I felt nothing due to the medication I took, and where days became such a steady structure that it almost felt normal. Therapy went on, making music with Jordan became a habit. Sadly - for me - he left the clinic too soon for my liking and went home. But we had exchanged phone numbers to stay in touch when I was bound to go home.

I had celebrated my birthday with my parents, who had taken my dog Oskar with them, and Alison - Tom said he couldn't make it. My parents said he had to work, but Alison and I both knew better.

She came to see me at least once a week, and during those hours we talked a lot. Sometimes about nothing at all, sometimes about everything deep. I had opened up to her like I had to no one else, not even dr. Baker - and I actually had opened to dr. Baker, just because she had left me no choice. Not cooperating in therapy meant a longer stay at the clinic, and after more than two months I was about to lose my right mind at the empty boredom and sadness lingering in these halls.

I was by far not the newest person around anymore. When I sat down in my quiet corner in the cantina to eat, I often looked around the other people and noticed new faces right away. They looked sad, anxious, troubled - just like I had been when I came in, and maybe still was right now.

I could say I was doing somewhat better. My anxiety was mostly quiet, the dark thoughts in my head were less. That said, every feeling had become more superficial, and my mind was almost empty. The medication finally did their work and although it was a relieve to not feel anything anymore, it was also quite scary and numbing. Even seeing Alison made me hardly feel anything at all, and when I realized that, I had gone to see dr. Baker about it. She warned me that I had to be precautious about giving in to my feelings for Alison, because Alison was the only stable, reliable person in my life at the moment and a lot of my wellbeing depended from her lately. And that was the whole point; I had to learn to rely on myself to be able to feel stable and well again. A relationship with Alison could be great, but what if it didn't work out?

Not that a relationship with Alison was in the works anytime soon. We both kept our distance to each other. Other than a short hug and a kiss on my cheek when she left, there was no intimacy between us whatsoever. I didn't because my emotions were too flat anyway, and she didn't because she knew that it would be for the better if we were just friends at this moment. But the tension between us was always there, and it haunted me in my dreams - that were very vivid and sometimes triggering and scary due to side effects of my medication.

But because my wellbeing had been stable and functioning in the past weeks, dr. Baker had given permission for me to go outside twice a week, accompanied by either one of my counselors or Alison. I thought it would be a relieve to finally be somewhere else than the clinic, but the first time had triggered a huge panic attack. The clinic was situated at the edge of Leeds, and the first time I had went out with Emma to go for a walk and a cup of coffee somewhere was already too much. Traffic, people, everyday noises and sights had invaded my senses in every way, and I felt overstimulation build up before we had even left the street. Within ten minutes we were back in the clinic because it was too much - after 9 weeks of being inside the quiet walls of the clinic, the outside world had become too much for me. Emma had said that it was okay, that I would get used to it again and that it would just take time, and we would practice being outside again. But instead of her words being soothing, they made me feel like a loser, and it didn't make me look forward to the next time I was allowed to go out. Even with Alison it was an experience that asked too much of me, but gradually it went a bit better every time. Emma had been right after all.