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TW's:
-Mentions alcohol/smoking/drug addiction (thoughts relapsing)
-Mentions thoughts self harm
-Mentions mistreating

Clay's POV

My therapy session had been really intense today. I cried a lot, I even panicked a lot. I just wanted to be perfect and I just want to be free of my addiction, but I still had so much urges to do it. Even though I was following a programme for seventy five days.

I completely broke apart. I broke apart about everything. The fact I didn't have anything to calm me down with, but also the fact that I couldn't even live at home, how I couldn't do my finals this year, how all my friends could just easily pass their finals and go do a study.

But no, those arseholes made me addicted and left me after that like I was a piece of shit. They had a life still, I didn't. I was in rehab as a freaking seventeen year old boy and they just moved on with their lives.

I remember the times so well. I was that shy boy who never dared to do anything and I wished to be friends with them. They peer pressured me just as long as it took me to break. How I grabbed that one stupid cigarette, how I drank that one stupid drink and how I took that one pill. How could I know my life would get ruined by it?

I was getting really sad and mad and I opened the door of my room, walking slowly down a stair to where my therapist was working. He told me I could always go to him when I needed him. I knocked on his door really softly and waited for his response.

'Come in!'

I opened the door slowly and looked at my hands shyly.

'Hey, Clay! What's up?'

'I feel really bad and I'm afraid I will do bad things.'

'Okay, come with me. We will go walk a little outside, okay?'

I nodded softly and smiled. 'Thank you.'

'Can you tell me what's wrong?'

'I'm mad at my old friends.'

'What makes you so mad at them?'

'They are just living a normal life now, they are graduating, starting a study, they are laughing with each other and making fun.'

'What makes you mad, Clay?'

'They ruined my life and they are free.'

'Clay, do you know how hard you're working and how good you're doing? You're going to beat this addiction.'

'It feels like I never won't, because I want to do drugs or drink alcohol so badly at the moment.'

'Those moments will go away. You're only recovering for around three months, Clay.'

'I'm seventeen, I want to be outside. I want to game, I want to study, to laugh with my friends. I want to be able to go a party without being scared that I will go too far.'

'You choose for this extra programme, Clay. You're free to go at any time, but you will have the biggest chance of staying sober if you finish your programme.'

'Will I ever recover?'

'You're already around eighty precent recovered.'

'I wished to do my finals this year.'

'You can do them next year. Clay, let's be honest. If you didn't go in rehab, you would been really addicted still. Do you really think you could have made your finals while you were high and drunk?'

'But I could have never gotten addicted.'

'It's not your fault, Clay. They peer pressured you and you got addicted.'

'I feel like a failure. I disappointed my parents so much.'

'Do you remember the family therapy we had?'

I nodded slowly.

'Do you know what they said about this?'

'No.'

'They said how proud they were. They also said that they had never been mad, but only really worried. What would you do if you saw your child or best friend getting completely addicted? They thought they were going to lose you. You were doing really unhealthy things, Clay. You sometimes were drunk whole days long. You would have overdosed if your old friend didn't stop you.'

'Maybe you're right. I'm just so scared to have disappointed people. They told me way different things though, they are just trying to be nice to you.'

'You didn't disappoint anyone, you only made people worry, but that's not your fault either.'

'Can I tell you something?'

'Of course, Clay.'

'I have thought a lot about hurting myself recently.'

'Clay, what do you think hurting yourself would solve?'

'Maybe I will feel better then.'

'Are you feeling down lately?'

'Nah, not really. I just had a bad few days, but I feel better now.'

'Hurting yourself won't solve anything, Clay. It will cause you to feel something which makes you feel better for a few seconds, but you will feel even worse after that. Self harm is easy to get addicted to and you don't want to stay here even longer to stop self harm.'

I nodded. 'Thank you, this helped a lot.'

'Of course, Clay. You can always talk at me.'

I looked up and looked in front of me. It was the big white building in front of my rehab centre. I could see the building out of my window, but I never really knew what it was.

'What's that building for actually?' I asked.

I saw my therapist make a face. 'You don't want to be in there. We heard really bad stories about that building, the police once came here too, but they left again. We have heard people scream and cry there often, but it's an asylum.'

'What's that exactly?'

'It's for people who aren't okay mentally. Mostly people who are really aggressive, suicidal and such. There are a lot of people with a major depression, bipolar disorders and schizophrenia, most attempted suicide.'

I nodded slowly. 'Are they okay?'

'I don't know, Clay. What happens in there, really isn't something you want yourself.'

I nodded and looked at the ground when I suddenly heard someone scream really loudly. I looked up in shock and looked at a small, thick window in the wall.

'NO, I'M NOT GOING THERE AGAIN,' I heard a boy scream loudly.

'GEORGE, LISTEN TO US OR YOU WILL SPEND A WHOLE WEEK THERE.'

'Come, Clay. I don't want you to be scared. Let's go back to your room.'

I nodded slowly, I felt so bad for that George guy. I had no idea who he was, but I felt really bad for him. He wasn't there without a reason and they treated him like shit.

1086 words

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