Scars (Sequel to Cuts) - Kellic // boyxboy

Chapter Thirty-Two

Vic

"Nope. That's out of the question. Not doing that." I say firmly, glaring at the doctor in front of me.

"Babe," Kellin says softly.

I turn to him and meet his pleading eyes. But even they're not going to convince me this time.

"I'm not going to therapy. You can't make me." I huff like a child.

"I don't want to make you." Kellin sighs. "I want you to do what's best for yourself. I think it could really help."

"I'm not going to sit in a room and talk to a stranger about how I'm feeling and listen to them tell me shit I already know. It's not happening so you can forget about it." I snap, crossing my arms defensively. My hand presses against the tender wound on my arm, adding to my frustration.

There's a tense silence that follows. I look down at the murky green lino floor, wishing I was home, or dead. I can't decide which would be better. Right now I'm leaning towards the latter.

"There is another option." The doctor speaks hesitantly.

I look back at him, waiting for him to continue.

"We could start you on medication to stabilize your mood." he suggests.

I shake my head immediately. 

"I don't want to take pills for the rest of my life just to feel normal." I mutter.

"It isn't a life sentence, Vic. It's just until you're in a place where you can manage the depression symptoms without it." he explains but I'm not convinced.

"What if it doesn't work? Or I feel worse?" My voice shakes. 

"If you're not feeling the best while you're on the medication, we can alter the dose or try a different kind of medication."

I struggle to think up another excuse as quiet echos off the uninviting clinic walls. 

I know I'm being ridiculous. The doctor could offer me an instant cure and I probably wouldn't take it. I'm scared. What if nothing works and then I'm out of options? What if it does work and I get used to being okay, then it stops working? I'm already at rock bottom. I'd rather stay here than fall down again.

Kellin takes my hand so I look to him. He looks so torn and I feel like shit for making him feel that way. Maybe I should stop stressing him out and be compliant.

"I take antidepressants." he sighs softly.

I frown at him confused. "You do?"

He nods and squeezes my hand.

"Yeah, for anxiety. I've been on them for a few months. I feel a lot more like myself now. One of the best decisions I ever made." he explains.

I have a million questions for him, the big one being 'why didn't he tell me?', but now is not the best time for that conversation.

I look back at the doctor, feeling stuck. I don't want to go to therapy, I don't want to take medication but I also don't want to be depressed anymore, I don't want to burden Kellin anymore. 

I look back at Kellin whose sad eyes are boring into me. I want to make him happy, I want to be a better husband, a better person for him and I know I won't be able to do that if I don't get this under control.

My reluctance falls away and I give in. I look back at the doctor and sigh.

"Okay," I decide. "I'll try it."

The doctor seems pleased as he starts giving me the rundown on the prescription he's about to give me. He runs through the name, the dose, what to do and what not to do, and then the potential side effects. I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry when he mentions insomnia, sexual dysfunction and suicidal thoughts as symptoms. It's not like things could possibly get any worse.