Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi or anything else.

Twitter: themusiksnob – See profile for protected tweet explanation.

Note: This chapter takes place at the same time as the last one.

Chapter 11

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably as Dr. Loughner peered over his glasses at me. My foot was tapping out a beat faster than most of the songs on Dead Hand's latest album.

"Eli, you seem especially agitated today. Is there anything in particular that happened today or this week? You look more nervous than your first visit here and I thought we had made a lot of progress."

I bit my lip. The only thing I was nervous about was walking out of this office without a prescription in my hand. I only had six pills left and I was pretty sure I'd need one by the time this hour was over. But I knew if I was going to convince Dr. Loughner that I needed more I was really going to have to lay this on thick.

I pulled the picture of Julia and me that I had found when Clare and I were cleaning my room out of my pocket and handed it to him. "I found this in my room and I was trying to throw it away but I just couldn't. It was our first date and we went to the movies and we saw Iron Man and…" I took a deep breath. I intended this display of emotion to be for show, but I could feel some tears prickling at my eyes. I thought I had gotten that all out of my system when I cried in Clare's arms when I found it, but clearly I was wrong.

He looked at the picture and then handed it back to me. I took it with a shaking hand. "Eli, this is exactly the type of item that you can keep. It meets all of the criteria. It has a lot of meaning for you. You just need to find a place for it. What made you think you had to throw this away?"

"It's just whenever I try to clean my room I feel like I have to get rid of everything. Like I'm suffocating under the piles of stuff and I just want to be free, and then when I find something that really does have meaning, I'm so conflicted."

Dr. Loughner narrowed his eyes. "That sounds like the opposite reaction of what you usually experience. How long have you been feeling this way?"

Shit. I was taking this too far. "I don't know. A few weeks I guess."

"Do you know what might have caused you to feel that way?"

This I could handle. "It's my girlfriend, Clare. She was really supportive in the beginning when I was throwing out old popcorn containers and broken pieces of things, but now that most of the things that are left remind me of Julia, she's started pressuring me to throw them out."

"I'm surprised to hear you say this since she's been so supportive of you in the past, but perhaps you should try to work on your room without Clare's help if she's causing you distress. These are decisions you're going to have to make for yourself and if she is making that difficult for you, you might need to reevaluate your relationship."

Great. Even my therapist thought Clare needed to get away from me. "But I love her, and I want to make her happy and I can't do that unless I get rid of Julia."

Dr. Loughner put on that serious face that he always made when he had to tell me something I didn't want to hear. "You know, we've talked about the recovery process before. When you're trying to make changes in your life, sometimes other people can stand in the way of your progress without meaning to. It's one of the reasons that recovering alcoholics and drug addicts are expected to abstain from romantic relationships for at least a year after they start to treat their diseases."

Shit, this was backfiring. Instead of giving Dr. Loughner a reason why my anxiety had increased, I had given him the ammunition he needed to hurt me. I struggled to maintain my composure. "I can't do this without her. She's the only thing that gets me through the pain."

"She can give you support, Eli. But you can't trade one obsession for another. It's counterproductive to your recovery and will be emotionally damaging to both of you."

I tried to hold my breath in hopes of warding off the panic attack that I knew was coming. I tried to look like I was considering what Dr. Loughner had suggested.

He looked at the clock. "We only have about five minutes left. Is there anything else specifically you'd like to discuss?"

Here goes nothing. "Um, I do need a refill on my prescription."

Dr. Loughner nodded and went over to his desk, pulling a prescription pad out of his locked drawer. I let out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived as he dropped the pad on the desk and read something on my chart.

"Actually, Eli, there should be two refills left on that prescription. If you just call the pharmacy they'll refill it for you."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Well, actually, I've already used those refills."

Dr. Loughner looked up in alarm. "That's 60 pills in less than two months. You're supposed to be taking them as needed. There's no need to take one every day unless you're having a panic attack or a severe case of anxiety."

"I guess I misunderstood," I mumbled.

"Eli, I gave you this prescription to help you cope with the extreme stress caused by your cleaning sessions. But if you don't take them properly, they can be habit forming. I don't want you to add a prescription drug dependency to your list of issues to deal with."

"I'll be more careful next time, I swear."

He shook his head. "I can't give you another prescription. The potential for abuse is too great." He looked thoughtful and I was strongly considering crossing the room and ripping the prescription pad out of his hand. "Why don't you bring your parents in with you next week and we can discuss your options for further treatment? You can set up an extra appointment with Susie on your way out."

I couldn't wait a week for more pills. I felt for the baggie in my pocket and clutched them in my hand. "I can't wait a week. I'm under too much stress. I have a panic attack every day. I try to control it without the pills, but I'm too weak."

Dr. Loughner looked disturbed and he glanced at the clock. "I have another patient coming in. But this is something we need to discuss. It sounded as if the cleaning was getting less stressful the last time we talked, and now it sounds as if there's more than the hoarding issue that's causing you anxiety."

I stood up, enraged. There was no pretense any more. I was so angry; I was out of control. "Everything causes me anxiety. My girlfriend doesn't want me to be around her anymore and if she breaks up with me, I'm not sure that life is worth living and Julia died and it's been two years and I miss her every day and I have to go to school every single day and see the guy who almost killed me and I just know he's dangerous and that he's going to hurt her the way that…" God, it was in my head again and I couldn't breathe and I knew I had to get out of here.

"Forget it. You don't want to help me. I'll figure this out for myself."

I tore through the waiting room, ran downstairs and jumped into Morty, turning on the engine to escape but realizing it wasn't safe to drive while I was so crazed. I swallowed two pills and stared at the bag, realizing I only had four left now and I was screwed. I couldn't face Clare without them. I couldn't exist on the same planet as Fitz without them.

I knew what I had to do. I drove across town, headed toward my old high school, a magnet school for creative arts students.

I hadn't been back since the last day of sophomore year. Things had gotten so bad for me there in that school year without Julia. Some of our former friends blamed me for her death. Kids I would hang out with at parties started shoving me into lockers when they saw me. Sometimes I'd walk down the hall and see a flash of black hair and feel certain her ghost was walking the hallway with me.

The memories were everywhere and where they left off, the bullies took over, and I begged my parents to let me transfer to Degrassi since that was the regular public school for the district we lived in. I had a friend or two left at that point, but we'd lost touch and I didn't really miss them. But there was one guy I knew who could help me.

Across the street from the school was a supermarket and I found a spot that could fit Morty and walked behind the store. I was lucky. Lurking in the shadows and smoking a cigarette was Steve Hasbert.

He tensed as I walked toward him but as he realized who I was his face lit up. "Eli Goldsworthy! I haven't seen you in what? A year?"

"Something like that," I said, shaking his hand and giving him a one armed hug.

"You were such a good customer. I missed you, man."

I knew he was exaggerating. I bought pot from him once when Julia wanted to try it, and pills from him maybe three times. He only knew my name because we were in the same math and science classes.

I lowered my voice. "You got any anti-anxiety pills? Xanax, Valium, Zoloft?" He shook his head. "Prozac, Celexa, Klonopin? I'll even take Paxil if that's what you've got."

"Nah, man. My mom's actually been taking her stash and my hookup is dry. The only thing I've got that'll do the trick is ketamine."

Shit. "Special K? Isn't that illegal?"

Steve laughed. "I'm pretty sure when you start picking up your prescription in an alley instead of Rexall's, everything becomes illegal."

He held out a little baggie of pills. "You're lucky I was able to get pills this time. It usually comes in powder and I don't think you want to inject this shit."

Yeah, buying drugs on the street corner was already a stretch. I wasn't going to start shooting up.

I was waging a mental war with myself. It was one thing to buy more of the stuff my doctor prescribed for me, and quite another to take stuff I wasn't even quite sure I knew anything about. But I only had four of my pills left and I knew I wouldn't be able to keep myself together around Clare for the next two weeks without some backup.

I'd buy them so I knew I had them if I needed them. But I'd ration out my current pills and only take these if I were desperate. "How much?" I held out a wad of bills and he raised his eyebrows.

"This'll cover it."

I slipped the baggie into my pocket, feeling nervous for the first time.

"Nice seeing you, bro," he said. "Feel free to come back any time."

I waved as I took off. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.