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

Oliver

'And how does that make you feel?,' dr. Baker asked. I shrugged. We were talking my weekend leaves; it was January now, and I had gone home five weekends in a row. I loved getting out of here, but having to go back fell harder and harder on me. Alison had been with me every single weekend, celebrated Christmas and New Year's Eve with me. New Year's Eve had been quite uneventful; Alison had opted to ask the lads to come over, but I had hardly talked to them in the past months, so I didn't feel like it. I didn't feel like anything, for that matter. I knew I had to give in and come to terms with meeting up with my band; I owed them an apology and a good talk. They had stayed updated by Alison, and I knew they hadn't forgotten me. Alison kept saying that they had my recovery as a priority and didn't want to intervene anything, so they kept their distance. Jona had clocked out, and I had never spoken to him again. Hearing he had left the band was harsh, and it fucked with my self esteem. I kept blaming myself, and told myself that I would be the downfall of the band one day.

Since I had my phone back, I had texted with Nicholls a few times. He said he was proud of me for getting so far with therapy, and I hadn't responded after that, because I didn't feel that way.

Months of therapy and medication hadn't taken away all the trauma that had build up in my mind, leaving me either restless and anxious or debilitated. Only Alison's presence could calm me down sometimes, but I only saw her once a week and during the weekends, so most of the time it was just me and my goddamn black thoughts dragging me down. Alison knew, and despite her staying positive and understanding, I saw a sadness in her eyes that made it only worse for me. I was the reason she was sad. And that made me sad - for as far as I felt something. Every second was soaked in sadness, and every weekend was a war inside my head.

'I just...,' I started, but I sighed. 'I hardly feel anything anymore, and it's a blessing and a curse at the same time.' Dr. Baker nodded.

'Oliver -'

'Oli.'

'Oli,' she smiled. 'We've been over this. The medication flattens out your emotions -'

'I know,' I said. 'I know. And I've accepted it.' Lies. 'I know it's either this or wanting to rip my fucking brain out to find peace and quiet, but I hate it. I feel dead on the inside.' Dr. Baker sighed and looked at her notes.

'How's your appetite? Have you been eating well? Or have you been skipping meals?' I shook my head.

'That's okay, I eat.' Lies. 'Alison makes me.' Truth.

'I'm glad that having Alison around turned out so well,' dr. Baker said. 'Do you want to talk about your feelings for her?' I looked up at her, biting my lip.

'I hardly feel anything,' I muttered, pained. 'Don't get me wrong, I love her. But I should feel that love so painfully, it hurts right to the core - but it's just not there. It's not enough. Because those fucking pills make me a fucking zombie!,' I let out.

'But it's there, Oliver. That love you want to feel so badly, it's right there.'

'I know! I just don't feel it.' I pouted my mouth and bit my lip to drown down my frustration, and I looked at my hands, that were fiddling on my shirt. 'She is by far the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I look at her and I just - I'm numb.' I sniffed my nose and closed my eyes for a moment to choke down a persistent tear. 'What if -,' I started, but my throat tightened, and I scraped it before I continued. 'What if she gets enough of it and walks out on me?'

'If I can be honest with you, I think you've given her a hundred reasons to walk out on you, yet she is still here. I think you're good,' dr. Baker answered. I frowned.