Someone Out There Loves You (Adopted by Frank Iero)

98

*trigger warning: there is some talk about death and suicide in this chapter*

ALEXA

When I wasn't at school or doing schoolwork, Frank had been trying to keep me busy by filling in the time with positive activities, occupying the time I would otherwise be spending by isolating and getting high. As it turned out, I found myself with a lot of time on my hands, and Frank was having fun brainstorming things we could do to fill it. There was always something new.

As my meds stabilised - and it had been some weeks now - my suicidal thoughts seemed to have been numbed out. Unfortunately, it was along with pretty much everything else. I was actually keeping Frank updated about all of this without him having to beg me to tell him what was going on, although I think we had different opinions about it. I was back to being unable to feel a damn thing, both good and bad. That was what I hated about my antidepressants in the first place. That was part of the reason why I started self medicating. I hated feeling numb. Empty. A shell of a person, void of anything and everything. I would rather feel miserable than nothing at all.

But I wasn't suicidal and I hadn't really tried to hurt myself in some time now, and, for Frank, that was the top priority. Good feelings could be built on top of a blank slate, he insisted, and struggling to feel anything would make delving into memories and unpacking the abuse and neglect that was my childhood a bit easier. I'm sure he had a good point, but I argued I could do that after smoking a little bit of pot.

Not being able to feel anything was worse to me than only feeling bad. At least with the bad I still felt alive. All I felt now was detached from everything. Not particularly sad, not about to kill myself or anything, but not quite there. I certainly wouldn't say happy.

Frank had wondered if it was worth seeing a doctor and having my medication swapped for something else because perhaps what I was on at the moment just wasn't quite suited to me and something else would be a better fit, but I shot that down with panicky cries likened to those of a child being forced to get a needle. I think I was just scared of Frank dropping me at any sort of medical facility and running for the hills before I even realised he was gone. He was reluctant, thinking it could be beneficial for me, but I was fearful and stubborn, so I won that round. If you would call that a win, that is.

That aside, Frank was determined to give me things to smile about. It was important to him.

We had been going out and doing something a few times a week at least, some more extravagant than others. We did things nearby like going to the cinemas (a far better experience than last time), trying new restaurants and coffee shops tucked down graffitied alleyways, strolling through pop up night markets and spending too many coins at the arcade not too far from our usual coffee shop. But when we had more time on our hands, like the weekends, we did things that were a bit more exciting.

We had gone over to New York a few times. We went to the Museum of Natural History so I could marvel at dinosaur bones and ponder how uncomplicated life must have been once upon a time. And then when we went to the planetarium I lost my fucking mind, and all Frank did was giggle and take photos of me spinning around trying to look at everything with star eyes.

We also went ice skating and I fell over more times than I could count, but not once did Frank let me get upset. His encouragement combined with his teasing had me rolling my eyes every ten seconds, and in hindsight, was probably the reason I kept losing my balance. It would've been hard to get upset anyway because Frank was wearing this beanie with dog ears on it that looked absolutely fucking ridiculous and was definitely made for someone seven years old, not twenty-seven.

The past few weeks felt like Frank and I were getting back on track with our happy little world together. It was what the trajectory following him adopting me should have been, only so many things got in the way and squashed it down and buried it under stress and misery. Frank was working tirelessly to undo all of that, his patience never wavering, and I did feel better.