Under the Influence ✔

7.

 It's my second day of cooperating and I've already had to tell myself a thousand times that it will all be worth it once I'm out of here.   

"Just start at the beginning if you think that will be easiest?" Dr. Taylor is sitting in her big plush chair across from me, her manicured hands folded neatly on her lap as she watches me - studies me. 

The beginning? Beginning of what? Does she want me to start at my birth, because that's how long I've been feeling this dull, aching void. How can I tell you when this never ending sadness began when it has always been present? Where do I even begin when talking about never fitting in, never feeling as if I belonged - not even in my own home. I've always been different - the black sheep. I've always had these thoughts, for as long as I can remember. I've always longed for an escape, have always been chasing after something I can't see or reach. 

"I don't know where the beginning is." 

Dr. Taylor nods her head slowly and waits for me to say more, but I don't. I don't because I truly don't know what to say. 

"Okay Luna, how about you start with how you met that boy that is always visiting you."

I stare at her blankly, wanting to shut down and go silent again. I don't want to talk about Wes, I don't want to think about Wes - but that's hard to do when every time I close my eyes I see him and hear his voice breaking as he shouts for someone to call 911.

"I hit him with a car door and then he stayed at the motel I work at for a few weeks while his band was playing at a local bar." Talking about meeting Wes was easy, it was everything that happened after we met that was hard, that made my heart constrict and my breathing stop. 

Her voice is calm and steady, her eyes patient as she waits - the complete opposite of how I'm feeling inside at the moment. "And what part does he play in why you're here?"

Every part. Wes plays every single fucking part in why I am here. He started this and he ended it. 

So I start at the beginning of me and Wes, "I woke up in a really weird mood that day...it was like I was underwater and no matter how hard I tried to swim to the surface, I just couldn't. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think. I felt as if I was living a life that wasn't mine, just going through the motions."

I break eye contact with Dr. Taylor, choosing to stare at the hardwood floor instead. "I used to take pain killers every night to fall asleep. I couldn't deal with the noise in my head or the sinking feeling in my heart, so I would numb myself. I don't even know why I feel the way I do...I've kind of always felt this way and I...I can't do it anymore, I need it to stop."

I look back at Dr. Taylor and see that she now has a small notepad on her lap and that she's jotting down notes, her pen flying across the paper as she no doubt writes down every fucked up thing I just said. 

"You know, I can sell you something stronger."  He stuffs the cash I just gave him into his pocket and leans against the wall. We're standing in our usual meeting spot, the dimly lit breezeway at the motel where the vending and ice machines are located. 

"No thanks, Ray. I'm good."  I tuck my own items into my purse as Ray turns and walks down the sidewalk and towards his car, calling out that he'll see me next time. When he drives off, his silver car no longer in sight, I lean against the same wall that he was leaning against moments ago. While Ray was leaning against the wall leisurely, I was using it as support. 

All day, ever since I woke up this morning, I had been feeling as if I was sinking - drowning. I knew the pills I had just bought would drag me under the water and keep me there - either until morning or forever, and for some reason, that just wasn't enough. Not today. I needed more, I needed an escape that wasn't dark and drowsy, I need light and energy.