Happy Pills | Falsettos DISCONTINUED

.vi.

Silence occasionally broken by Mendel tapping his pen against the notepad he had rested on his knee was the majority of this appointment so far. He hadn't asked any questions and I hadn't said anything seeing as I'd immediately gone into don't speak unless spoken to mode. I think things were just awkward between us because of the attempt. Or, maybe, he was just trying to think of a way to bring it up without being too blunt, or maybe-
"So... How have you been?" He asked awkwardly, interrupting my thoughts.
I shrugged. "Alright, I guess."
"You shouldn't have to guess."
"Mendel, you know I'm bad at talking about this stuff,"
"You're gonna have to overcome that for this to work."
I sighed. "Fine, I haven't been doing great."
"Expand?"
"I just..." I paused, thinking of how to phrase this. "Nothing I say leaves the room, right?"
"Right."
"Not even to Charlotte?"
"Nope."
"And you're not gonna blab to Trina?"
He hesitated. It was short, but I could tell. "No,"
"Okay," I mumbled. "I... May have done something I shouldn't have last night when Whizzer left."
He jotted something down. "Which was?"
"I... Y'know..."
"It's best if I don't have to guess, Marvin."
"I self harmed, okay?"
He jotted more down. "Why?"
"I... Felt it was the only way to stop the intrusive thoughts."
"And why did Whizzer leave?"
"He went to get his pajamas. He asked before he left if I would be okay by myself and made me promise not to do anything, but it was a long forty minutes."
He nodded. "Are you two back together?"
"Yeah. For me to be able to leave the hospital, Charlotte said I had to have someone there to supervise me, so Whizzer volunteered to move back in. I protested, but she thought it would be better since he already knows me so well. Then, after she left, he said he'd meant to call me before... This, saying he wanted to get back together then."
"You don't sound sold on that."
"I think he was just lying because he felt guilty."
"And why do you think that?"
"He literally told me he felt guilty before offering."
"Did he say there was a correlation between that and his decision?"
"Well, no, but..." I trailed off, unable to think of how to follow that up. "What do you think?"
He set down the notepad. "I think he actually missed being with you and just had bad timing."
I sighed, looking down to my hands.
"Did anything else happen that you want to talk about before we move on?"
"Well, we had a little spat this morning before I came."
"What caused it?"
"I tried to change the subject of our conversation from me to something else because it makes me feel weird and he got all defensive saying he was 'already tired of trying'. Which, clearly didn't make me feel any better."
"Does him saying this reinforce your thought of him only moving back in because he feels guilty?"
I hesitated, thinking this over. "Well, now that you connect the two, it kinda does..."
"I didn't mean to lead you to that conclusion,"
"It's fine, I would've come to it sooner or later."
"Anything else?"
I shook my head.
He glanced at his watch, then looked over his notes before speaking. "Okay, let's discuss the attempt."
"What do you wanna know?"
"You're fairly open about this topic. Why?"
"I don't know."
"There must be a reason."
"Not one that I can think of."
"Okay. How long did you have it planned?"
"About a month in advance."
"How long did you feel like it was the only way out?"
"About a year and a half, but I was determined to give it time to get better. It just never did..."
"Do you think maybe you didn't give it enough time?"
"No, I think I gave it more than enough time."
"If you could stop yourself, would you?"
I contemplated this for a moment. "No, I don't think so."
"Why?"
"Because if I'm honest, I don't regret it."
He wrote something else down, a confused expression resting on his face.
"And why's that?"
"It felt liberating to finally be in control of something in my life. And it's the first time in a very long time I felt genuinely happy and excited for something."
"You were excited to die?"
I shrugged. "Kind of."
"Your life can't be that bad," He nervously chuckled. "Right?"
"That's a matter of opinion."
"In yours then,"
"Yes. And it still is."
"Are you planning another attempt?"
"No, not yet. But, even if I was, it's not like I'd be telling you about it, now is it?"
He shook his head. "No, I suppose not, but I'd like to think you'd tell me if you started feeling like that again."
"That'll come with time,"
He nodded in agreement, glancing at his watch. "Time's up."
I nodded, turning around, taking my jacket from the back of my chair. "So, um, Charlotte said you could make me more than one appointment a week?"
"If we think it's necessary, yes. Why, do you want me to make you another one?"
"I mean, if you have room,"
"Well-I-Ye-We," He stammered. "Yeah, I just wasn't expecting this. Are you sure it's not too much too soon? I don't want you to over do it,"
"Mendel, I'm positive that I need this."
"Alright," He turned the page he'd been scribbling on over and flipped to the back of the notebook. "Friday at three?"
"Works for me,"
"Then Monday and Wednesday for following weeks?"
I nodded. "Thanks, Mendel."
"No problem," He said slowly, unsure of something.
I stifled a small laugh. "What?"
"It's nothing. I'll see you Friday."
I nodded, mumbling, "Friday," before I left.