!mental illness and alcohol usage!
"I'm sorry but this isn't up for debate. I'm leaving you." Mark says to me with a seriousness I hadn't heard from him in awhile. I nod and blankly stare at him wordlessly, watching as he goes to the door and doesn't look back. I watch the door close behind him without saying a word as the voices inside my head get louder; screaming out at me.
I turn around and walk over to the fridge where I look inside and find a pint of vodka and 2 quarts of tequila. I start mixing and pouring both into a tall glass. I stare at the liquid before downing it then pouring more to replace it.
The voices keep talking as they has before, murmuring in response to what I'm doing. I shake my head and mutter. "He left." And continue drinking while listening to the voices. One voice said to smoke. It sounded like a good idea so I go grab my lighter and a pack of Marlboro reds I had lying around.
I go onto my porch with a bottle of vodka in hand and chug it before lighting my cigarette. Lovely. I had quit smoking recently but now I was back to it. Lovely.
The voices reply as they do quite often to my dialogue and actions as I smoke a cigarette without even processing it.
The day was dimming and the air was humid like mid summer. I got caught going into June. I had flown down to LA to stay for awhile in a place I rented out. I admired it from the outside and marveled drunkenly at its design as I downed more alcohol.
A voice catches me off guard but I ignore it, continuing what I'm doing in my own world. The voice persists and I smoke more before taking another gulp of my drink.
I decide to shakily sit down and look out over the horizon where I find beautiful hills and street lights. It was perfect. I loved it.
"Are you just going to ignore me?" Mark asks. Without looking over you continue drinking and looking over the horizon. "You're gone."
He looks at me in confusion. "But I'm standing right here." I shake my head firmly. "You're gone Mark. You're gone. Ok? You're gone. You left." He sighs and says something under his breath. You don't even attempt to listen as you drag on another cigarette after putting out your last one.
He sits down next to me hesitantly. "I just needed some time to think, is all. It isn't always easy being me either." You look over at him, studying the way his lips move and his eyes glow in the night.
He was right. It couldn't be easy being him either. So you nod and offer him a drink which he declines politely. He smiles weakly. "I caused this? Didn't I?" You shake your head. "My disorders..... make living... unique."
Mark queries. "Unique?" You nod slowly. "There's a lot going on in my head at once. That's why I'm here in this position."
He asks. "So what can I do to help?" I reply without missing a beat. "You came back and that's more than I'll ever ask for."
