You're The Straw To My Berry (Phan)

Part twenty-nine

PJ P.O.V.

"Do you want to go in by yourself? I'll be right here if you need me," a Northern accent said next to me. I nodded absentmindedly, not really paying attention to the external world. My focus was buried deep inside my thoughts as I was thinking about what I was going to say to the doctor.

I looked around the waiting room, my gaze skimming over the unamused faces. I decided to play my own game where I would pick a person at random and make up their life story in my head. It kept me occupied and turned on the creative part of my brain, something that I hadn't used in a while.

I didn't want to be here. I would prefer to be at home, drowning in my own misery than getting help. I didn't need it, I just needed time. I even resorted to locking myself in the bathroom but Chris had managed to prise me out of it after half an hour with blackmail. In the end he had made me promise to go for him if I didn't go for myself.

"PJ Liguori?" My head snapped up to see a young female doctor dressed smartly in a pristine white shirt standing the by the reception desk. The breath got stuck in my throat as I began panic and I grabbed Chris's wrist.

"Come with me," I managed to get out. The thought of going alone scared me and I needed Chris's support.

We followed the doctor down a narrow corridor, where she suddenly stopped at a blue door and opened it, holding it open for us.

"Take a seat," she smiled, gesturing to the chairs that were opposite her own desk chair. I eased a little when we did but without thinking entwined my fingers with Chris, suddenly feeling safer despite how vulnerable I felt.

I shot him a worried expression, not sure if I should say anything as the doctor started tapping away on the computer keyboard.

"So Mr Liguori, what can I do for you today?"

"Uhh... Well..." I struggled to find the words and looked at Chris for help.

"We, well, I... I think PJ needs help. He hasn't really been in the best of moods. For the past two months he's been depressed and crying a lot and I've been looking after him, but he's not getting better and I think he needs something."

"What do you mean by he's depressed?"

"He's never happy, he doesn't talk much but he used to be chatty all the time. He doesn't go out unless I force him to and sometimes he just sits and stares at one thing for hours and I'm not even sure if he notices," I felt myself getting hot and blinked rapidly to avoid crying. Was I really that bad? What happened to me?

"And when you say you look after him, what do you mean by that?"

"We live together, so I'll feed him and keep him company and just look after him in general I guess," I felt like such a let-down. By the way he was describing me I felt like 12 not 22.

"PJ?" I looked up at the doctor who was trying to get my attention. "Is what he's saying correct?" I nodded slowly, scared of what she was going to say. "How have you been feeling?" I thought a moment before answering.

"Empty," I replied. "It feels like there's a dark rainy cloud hanging over me that makes it hard for me to breathe. I feel useless and I never have energy to do anything. I want to go out and I want to do things, but I physically can't."

"What made you feel like this?"

"I... I love someone who doesn't love me back."

"Okay... PJ, have you ever had thoughts of killing yourself?"

"No," I answered truthfully.

"That's good, have you had thoughts of hurting yourself or others or ever acted on them?"

"No."

"Right," she started typing again and I took in a deep breath and exhaled, feeling exposed. "I can refer you to a mental health service, at this moment in time, I think some counselling sessions will do you good, and then the service can decide what's best for you after."

I nodded, but a lot of it went in one ear and out the other.

"We don't like putting people on anti-depressants if we can help it, there is always the risk of becoming to dependant on them, but we'll see how you go," she scribbled something down on paper and handed it to Chris. "There's the number of the service. I'll ring them later to get your name down, call them if you haven't heard by them next week."

"Thanks," Chris put it in his pocket and I smiled weakly at her.

"Come back to me if it gets worse, I hope you get better PJ."

"Thank you," I said quietly. We left the surgery together and Chris pulled me into a hug the moment we were outside.

"I'm so proud of you Peej, that must've been so hard for you. But we'll get through this together, yeah? I'm not leaving you."

"Thank you for not giving up on me."

"I'm your best friend, I'm not supposed to give up on you. This is what's best for you, I promise."

* * *

It was only two hours into Jack and Finn's house party but already I felt drunk out of my mind. My vision was hazy and I was stumbling about everywhere, but this was the best I had felt in what felt like years.

I used the wall for support as I made my way around the house, one hand gripping onto an almost-empty bottle. The people I could see were blurry but they were unimportant, there was only one person I was looking for.