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Authors: Lindsay Paige

Tags: #romance, #depression, #mental illness, #contemporary, #mental health, #social issues, #anxiety, #new adult

Driving Me Mad (15 page)

BOOK: Driving Me Mad
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“I can’t do this anymore,” I
sob. Tears blur my vision to the point that there’s just one white
blob in front of me. My stomach convulses, but at this point, all I
can do is dry heave and spit. Trace isn’t saying anything. He’s
only holding my hair back with one hand while rubbing my back with
the other. I woke up at three A.M. and haven’t been able to fall
back asleep or get rid of my anxiety since.

I can’t think in complete
sentences, and I just want to go back to bed. My day with Trace
after he dropped his dad and Amy off at the airport was great. And
then, this morning happened. I don’t think Trace got much sleep
either, so I feel bad that he’s been up with me for four hours
now.

Leaning back on my heels, I
blink away the tears until I can see Trace. His dirty blond hair is
a wild mess and his eyes look tired. All I want to do is collapse.
As soon as I have the thought, I tumble into Trace. “I can’t do it.
I’m tired of it being like this. I just want it to stop,” I
cry.

“I know. Breathe with me,
okay?”

“Breathing isn’t going to fix
it! Nothing is going to fix it! It’s going to be like this
forever.”

Trace cups my face and makes
me look at him. “We had a good day yesterday, didn’t we? It’s not
going to be forever, Britt. Bad days happen; we need to get through
them.”

“It feels like forever.”

He wipes away my tears with
his thumbs. “I know. Match my breathing.”

I rest my head on his
shoulder and focus on the movements of his chest. The thought of
going to school ruins any progress I make. Then I realize Trace has
to go to work.

“You have to get ready for
work,” I reluctantly mention.

“Are you ready for me to get
up?”

Not at all. “It doesn’t
matter.” He still has to go to work one way or another. Besides, if
it’s not comfortable for me to sit on the floor of his bathroom, I
doubt it’s any comfier for him.

“It matters to me,” he
replies softly, stroking my back. I shake my head to answer his
question. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

We sit there for ten more
minutes before I feel good enough to let Trace get up. He gets into
the shower and I make my way back to his bed. I stare at the
ceiling and my mind has finally shut up; it’s blissfully silent.
This, I could get used to.

Some time later, Trace exits
his bathroom fully dressed. He stands next to the bed. “What time
is your first class?”

“Ten. Can I stay here until
then?”

He eyes me for a moment
before nodding. “I’ll leave the spare key on the kitchen table for
you to lock up.”

“Thanks.”

Trace leans down to kiss me
briefly. He looks worried, but I ignore it. He says goodbye and a
moment later, he’s gone. I roll over, hugging his pillow to my
chest. I think it’s a good day to call in the grinch.

***

 

 

 

I
glance at the
clock on my wall for the billionth time today. Brittany hasn’t been
answering my texts, which is making me worry. I’ve never seen her
as distraught as she was this morning. It’s hard to see her like
that and know there’s not a whole lot I can do to help. The door to
my office swings open, and I sit up straighter when I see who it
is.

“Rebecca, hey.”

She closes the door behind
her. “Do you know where Brittany is? She was supposed to meet me
for lunch today, but she never showed and I can’t get hold of
her.”

Damn. “I think I know where
she is. She had a rough morning, so she probably never left my
house. I’ll check on her once I get off work.” Unfortunately,
that’s three hours from now. Rebecca seems happy with that, though.
She asks me to tell Brittany to text her an update later. When my
door closes, a heavy, tired sigh leaves me, taking all my energy
with it. All I want to do is go home and lie in my recliner.

The minutes drag by at a
torturous rate. I make a call to my psychiatrist to see about
upping my dosage. Things aren’t getting any better, so maybe a
little more medication will help me out. I finally leave work,
stopping to pick up my medication and then dinner on my way home
because I don’t feel like cooking. Sure enough, Brittany’s car is
in the exact same spot as it was when I left this morning.

I place the bag of food on
the kitchen table next to the unmoved spare key. I walk down the
hallway and see Brittany, curled into a ball, hugging my pillow to
her chest. Her eyes are closed, and I can’t help but wonder if her
sleeping now is going to throw her off later. I reach over and
shake her shoulder gently. Her eyes pop open and she rolls onto her
back with a yawn.

“Decided to skip, I see,” I
say, keeping my voice neutral.

“Only for today.”

“Well, it’s time to get out
of bed. You need to text Rebecca. I brought home dinner, too.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Of course she isn’t. She
probably hasn’t left my bed all day. All I do is nod. I toe out of
my shoes and then leave the room. I actually don’t feel hungry
myself at the moment, so I walk straight to my recliner. I turn on
the TV to the news and take a deep breath. I want to be comforting
to Brittany, but I also want to be in my chair. She needs to get
out of bed anyway. Hopefully, she’ll make her way in here soon.

Ten minutes later, she’s
shuffling into the living room, still in her pjs. She frowns when
she sees me in my recliner, but climbs in my lap to lie with
me.

“I kinda hate this chair,”
she mumbles against my neck.

“Why?” What’s wrong with my
chair? And for her to hate it, she sure does like to sit in it with
me.

“Because it means you’re
having a rough day.”

I chuckle. “Stop pointing out
my tells.”

“You point out mine.”

“Yeah, but you know them
already.”

She shrugs her shoulder and
doesn’t say anything else. There’s something I’ve been thinking
about all afternoon and hopefully, Brittany won’t be upset with
me.

“I want to talk to you about
the anxiety.”

She tenses, but it’s only for
a second. “Okay.”

“Can you tell a difference
since he increased your dosage?”

“Not really.”

I brace myself because I know
she’s not going to like where I’m about to take this. “You might
want to ask him about a med change.”

“Trace, no.” She sits up to
look at me. “It’s only been a little over a week. Aren’t I supposed
to wait two weeks for it to go into full effect or something? Med
changes suck. It took like forever for me to find this one.”

She’s right. It took quite a
few med changes for Dr. Gunner to find a medication where the side
effects didn’t outweigh the intended effect. I think that’s the
major reason why she came to hate taking her medication and why she
would want to stop cold turkey.

“I know, but it might be
time. You should at least see what Dr. Gunner thinks.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to...I
don’t know, wait until the semester is over? If I’m going to have
wacko side effects, I can’t handle that while I’m in school.”

“Who says you’re going to
have wacko side effects?”

She raises an eyebrow at me.
“This is me we’re talking about. We went through
six
medications before finding this one, Trace.
Six
. And it was
nearly as bad as the anxiety.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I
don’t want to do that again.”

“I know. Just think about it,
okay?”

“Fine,” she grumbles,
returning to rest her head on my shoulder. “I guess I might as well
talk to you about something that will make you uncomfortable.”

“Like what?”

“Well, my parents know I’m
not doing so great, and they want me to come home this weekend.
They want me to get away for a little bit and see Dr. Gunner in
person. While Mom is curious about my new boyfriend, especially
since I haven’t even said his name, I’m only telling you so you’ll
know I’ll be unavailable this weekend. Not because I think we
should tell them yet.”

Yeah, I think it’s way too
soon to tell her parents. Not to mention that I’m so not prepared
for that. “Okay,” I say, grateful that she’s not asking me to come
with her. “That could be good for you and gives you the week to
think about asking Dr. Gunner about the med change.” She doesn’t
comment, so I add, “This romantic date I owe you, if I plan it for
next weekend, does it still count if I also make it a Valentine’s
Day date?”

“Trying to kill two birds
with one stone, Trace?” She laughs softly, and it’s good to
hear.

“Yeah,” I tell her
honestly.

That gets a real giggle out
of her. Brittany sits up with a smile. “I guess it can still count,
though it makes you seem lazy and uncreative.” She leans forward
and gives me a quick kiss. “What did you get for dinner?”

For a second, I’m stunned
that she’s hungry. “Chicken quesadillas.”

“Well, let’s go eat.”

We eat our dinner in the
kitchen, and then Brittany leaves. She wants to email a few of her
classmates to see what was covered in class. She seems to be in a
better mood and doing better for now. Hopefully, it’ll last until
morning and she won’t miss another day of school. She’s too close
to finishing to mess it up.

With her gone, I return to my
recliner and turn off the TV. The noise is annoying and I don’t
really care to watch anything. The silence and stillness is
blissful. I feel terrible that I’m happy Brittany is gone, but I
am. Since we started seeing each other, I haven’t exactly had a ton
of time to myself. Maybe her being gone for the weekend will give
me some time to recoup. Not that she’s the reason why I’m not
getting better or anything like that, but it is harder with her
around.

Before, with either my dad or
my ex-wife, I didn’t share what was going on with my depression. I
kept it all to myself. Brittany not only has me sharing some of
that with her, but she’s needed support from me more than my
ex-wife ever did. I don’t mind it at all, but I didn’t realize just
how much I didn’t provide those things in my previous
relationships. It’s an adjustment. A hard one to deal with when I’m
still adjusting to moving, my new job, and a new relationship in
general.

Tired and done with today, I
head to my room, take my pills, and climb into bed.

 

 

Me:
Make it to all
of your classes?

Brittany:
Yes

Me:
Good to
hear.

 

I was worried that she would
have a repeat of yesterday; I’m glad she didn’t. Today has been
ridiculously slow, and I’m not looking forward to what I’m about to
do. Go grocery shopping. Does any adult enjoy this? I should really
see if any of the stores around here have that service where they
do the grocery shopping for you and you can pick it up or they
deliver it.

BOOK: Driving Me Mad
2.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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