The truth is Ray has learnt a lot this year. He learned to feel. He sighs and thinks if only he could feel his feet right now. He has felt a lot of different emotions and is still dealing with a lot of them. To feel love, hatred, jealousy, rage, self destruction, self pity, patience and anger. He's learnt to love, to walk to it and finally walk away from it. He is beginning to think that both heaven and hell exist on Earth alone. He's learnt to grow and still is.
He feels like he's being policed. Suicide watch, that's what 'they' call it, though he knows a lot about it himself having done a rotation in psyche. What a bitch. A guy can't even take a leak alone without someone standing nearby all the time, the same goes for showering. Stripped of his dignity, as well as his privacy. It's his own damn fault, he thinks no matter how much he wants to blame others for his misfortunes. Overdosing on vicodin. 'What was I thinking?' he asks himself and answers, 'I clearly wasn't!'
Ray feels lost. So lost. The road to recovery seems so long and gruelling, like climbing the Mount Everest or walking through Death Valley. He's lost and doesn't know where he is going, with so many questions swimming around his head and no answers in sight, yet. 'When will I get out of here? I'm still here but why am I still here? How will it feel to walk again? How many more surgeries? How many outpatient appointments? How many rehab appointments? Will I ever work again? Do I even want to work again? Where do I go from a bottomless black pit?'
He never used to think this much before. 'This can't be good,' he thinks to himself. 'Thinking too much is never too good.' It's thinking that screwed his head and made him think of the only escape route available at that time – overdose. The intention to die, to commit suicide.
The vicodin. It's all one big blur. He feels like shit, like real shit. Putting his mom through the whole ordeal. "Don't you ever do that!" She slaps him in anger then cries before gently rubbing his face and holding onto it with her hands for dear life and kissing his cheek. "Don you EVER go before Me!"
He sees the look in her eyes. It's that look of fear and a parent's worst nightmare. A parent should never see their child go before them or experience a terrible ordeal of almost losing them. Not twice. It goes against all the rules of nature. He is aware that he has lost her trust and wonders if she'll stop worrying about him. He's not sure of a lot of things but he knows he won't carry out a repeat performance of that again. No matter how dark of a place he is in, he knows he just won't do that to his mom or himself.
He doesn't want her to blame herself, that she's not strong enough or that she could do more for him. Though he realises that that is how she's programmed to function, like a lot of other mothers, which is to put him first. He knows she'd blame herself had they not got him back after the overdose.
He needs to readjust. Readjust to a lot of things, starting with getting use to living back home, getting use to the sweltering heat, just getting use to Baton Rouge. Chicago, it all seems like a distant memory now, even though it really has not been that long. He's trying not to think much about it but he still can't help it. There are too many things that tie him to the place. He's just received a package at home from Greg and Archie, they've sent his things on like his hair gel and shoes. Shoes, he won't be wearing. They said that they were thinking of him and may come down and visit him.
Then he has Katie. The fact that she can be so nice to him and is still there for him despite the way he had treated her. And hell, he doesn't even know why he turned to her but he called alright and it made it easier as his mom knew her too. Things were just easier when he was with Katie before...
Before. Before, her. It was always her but she never really was his. Neela, Neela Rasgotra. He knows that the last time they spoke he was full of hate. So full of hate and he recalls the last words he had spoken to her before giving her the silent treatment, "Well it doesn't really matter now does it?" He never thought he'd confess his love for a woman with so much hate. He keeps telling himself that he can't stand her and that she's just full of it, always talks the talk but never actually walks it. He's done with her, so he keeps telling himself. Only, he can't get her out, of his head or his heart. He's convinced himself that he feels nothing towards her but if only it was easy as turning a switch off to get over someone. If only.
"Ray," he's distracted as his 'shrink,' is trying to read his thoughts as she is trying to underpin the cause of his attempted suicide, 'like it wasn't already obvious,' he thinks but he knows she's just doing her job.
"Is there anything you want to talk about today?" she says in a soothing concerned tone. She's wearing some tight ass pencil skirt with a plain grey silk shirt and some three inch killer heels. He may as well admire the view he thinks, 'as it's not all that bad, because let's face it - I won't chatting up any ladies for a while,' because he's just not that up to it.
"Not really," he replies in a detached tone as he looks through the glass window overlooking the courtyard. It's all he's been recently, detached that is and maybe a little numb too. The truth is Ray's just grieving, grieving for everything he once had. He's almost reaching the acceptance stage or so the psyche team believe he is. He certainly has accepted everything that has happened, it just is what it is and he knows he can't reverse back on everything that has gone on. It's just the way it goes, that's life.
"You seem quieter than usual," the doctor replied as she sat there her leather swivel chair with her legs crossed and a pad of paper to jot down a few notes.
"What's talking about it going to do?" he asks with a tone of sarcasm.
"Well it's not talking about things and letting them build up that possibly made you do what you..." she's going to continue but notices that he's about to say something because he laughs.
He laughs and he finds it all ironic. "Talk, huh," he snorts a little and he knows that he's displaying that he's still bitter about the whole thing and he thinks he's been a complete and utter dick. Most would understand his behaviour, everyone deals with things in their own way and he's dealing with it, in his own way. "I guess you're right," he sighs. "It's just.."
"Just what?"
"It's just......We tend to talk about everything positive, how everything will be and let's look to the future. It just feels like a load of bull on some days."
"And how do you feel today is any different from other days Ray?"
"I've been feeling contempt," he states in disgust with himself.
"Is that today or all along?" She pauses, "It's pretty normal." She continues to reassure him of his feelings.
He doesn't know whether to go there because it's like entering the lion's den or whatever they call it. It means that he's going to have to talk about her. But then again, then again he's worn his heart on his sleeve for the best part of last two years when it come to her, so what's the difference if he talks about her for the first time since leaving Chicago, cos he sure has thought about her, everyday.
"Since it happened....mainly towards her..." he replies casually and pauses then inhales deeply.
"Her? Who's that Ray?" she asked as she believes they may be making some progress here towards Ray's recovery, his mental health state, anyway.
"Neela," and there he said it, he actually managed to say her name without sounding too contemptuous. He feels like shit. And he knows exactly why he feels this too. He knows about her accident and can't help but feel that he is to blame for what had happened to her. He knows that she just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time but he still blames himself because of the bitter feelings he had towards her. He'd never wish anything awful upon her but thinks that maybe someone saw his bitterness towards her and maybe, maybe...
He snaps out of his thoughts again as he notices that his so called 'shrink,' is staring at him in an intense gaze as she nods her head to signal him to continue talking.
"We umm," he sighs as he does not know how to define the status of their relationship. He laughs and says aloud, "Neela was everything. A colleague turned roommate, turned best friend, turned this feels more than one should for a friend, turned ex roommate, turned strangers, turned friends and then turned..."he sighs and thinks this is going to be one long session.