Author's comments: It's getting deep.

Story of My Life

Chapter Twelve

Part One

Dr. Lindstrom was there when they led Olivia away. Amanda kept her distance, not wanting to do any more damage than she already had. The doctor spoke to Olivia, then came to Amanda after she was gone. They were standing in the hallway because first responders were everywhere, and because Amanda couldn't bear the thought of facing Olivia's empty apartment alone.

Dr. Lindstrom put his hand on her shoulder, but it was second compared to the long, slender fingers to which she'd become accustomed. "How are you holding up, Amanda?" he said, his eyes looking as tired as hers felt.

She was drenched too, her hair in matted tendrils like a wet dog, but she hardly noticed. "It's all my fault, Doctor. I'm the one who caused her to do this. She's going back to the psych ward because of me."

"Slow down, Amanda. No one person can be responsible for that level of despair, and she went through so much trauma."

Before she could protest, Fin came up behind her and draped a blanket over her. Only then did she notice how bad she was shivering, so much that she could barely speak without stuttering. "No, but I'm the one who pushed her over the edge. You don't understand, Doctor."

"I'm not asking for a confession, Amanda."

But she wanted to confess, wanted everyone to know how guilty she was, lest she be struck by lightning right here and now.

Fin cut her off before she could get started. "I heard from Elliot that she cut things off with him today. Maybe that had something to do with it too. Had to be hard for her."

"You're not listening!" And now she had the full attention of both of them, along with half the police force. "I kissed her, okay?" Her voice got quieter as she realized how silent everyone had become. Her face flushed, especially with Fin right there to bear witness, but she had to get it out. "A few days ago. While she was still in the psych ward."

There was a pause as Dr. Lindstrom and Fin took in the information, wide-eyed, and then Dr. Lindstrom said, "Amanda, that doesn't mean you're to blame for what she did tonight. That one thing wouldn't be enough for her to go to such extremes."

"No, you don't understand," Amanda said, tears coming so fast that she had trouble breathing. "We got too close, and I couldn't handle it. I tried to pull away tonight."

"Now, hold on a second," Fin said, gently grasping her by the arm. "Did you throw yourself on her?"

"No," she whispered through her tears. "She wanted to kiss me again tonight. But still—"

Dr. Lindstrom cut in. "Did you go through with it?"

"No."

"Then Amanda," he said, "Kissing her may not have been the best for either of you at the time, but she's not insane. Obviously, she wanted you too."

"But it was too soon, and look what happened—I rejected her, and she fell apart."

Fin clicked his tongue and rubbed her back. "Ah, Amanda. It may have been hard for her to hear, but you were trying to do the right thing."

Dr. Lindstrom added, "That's right. And you can't pin this all on yourself, Amanda. It's been a complicated situation. You've been trying to help her, not take advantage of her. In any event, do you have a therapist or someone to talk to yet? I can refer you—"

Wiping her face, she said, "Actually I do have one."

But no matter what they said, she still couldn't help but see the link between her lack of impulse control, which had always been a problem for her, and the fact that Olivia had ended up sitting on a ledge. And now Olivia was right back where she'd started, despite all the hard work they'd supposedly done to help her get better. Amanda felt deflated and wanted nothing more but to capsize into a heap on her own bed. "I need to get home to my kids."

Fin shook his head. "I'm sorry, Amanda. I know how upset you are. But you and Olivia? I still can't get over it."

She half-smiled and gave him a little shove. Then she got serious again. "Thank you for being such a good friend, Fin. And for saving my ass earlier on the roof."

"It was nothing."

Part Two

"Liv, I know you can hear me."

She could, but she didn't respond. Dr. Lindstrom tried again. "Olivia."

She hadn't moved from the bed in the three days she'd been back at the psych ward, except for a rare trip to the bathroom. And it wasn't because of any hallucinations or wild delusions. She just felt dead inside, and had no desire to think, talk, eat.

Dr. Lindstrom came by to check on her every day, and he tried to talk to her, to no avail. But today he said, "Okay. But just know that if you don't eat soon, they're going to have to take drastic measures to make sure you get enough nutrition. I hope you're okay with a feeding tube…"

It took all her effort, but she responded with a sigh, which was the most anyone had heard from her since that night on the ledge. Then she rolled over on her back, staring at the ceiling now.

"Okay," she said softly, her voice cracked from not using it. "I'll eat."

"Wonderful," he said, and he plunked down a package of crackers in front of her. "You may not have an appetite, but not eating can worsen your depression."

She didn't say anything, just ripped open the crackers and nibbled on them until there was a pile of crumbs around her.

She wasn't going to immediately open up after spending so much time in silence, and he must have known that because he talked for her, and she was grateful that he didn't pressure her. "I'm sorry, Olivia. You've been through a lot. And I heard about your conversation with Elliot, and that must have been extremely difficult, after all these years."

He paused to give her space to answer, but she didn't, so he continued. "Amanda told me what happened between you too, and of course she blames herself for what happened next."

Olivia knew she would, but she was too weary to feel sorry for anyone, even Amanda. Even herself.

"All this, after what you went through with Clark, and then the HPPD, and then finding out that Clark was out on bail…it's understandable that you would reach your limit. I just have one question for you, and you don't have to answer if you still don't want to talk. Were you really going to jump? Or was it because of a hallucination? I just want to know, so I can decide how we should proceed."

She refused to make eye contact, just stared straight ahead like she was still catatonic. But she did mumble an answer, her voice barely audible. "A few hallucinations. But mostly, I was just done."

He had his legs crossed, and he switched them now. His voice softer, he said, "And now? Do you think you would do it again?"

She shrugged, although it might have been hard for him to see while she was lying down. "Now I just feel like nothing matters. Jump, don't jump…"

"So you went from strong desire to end it all to not caring one way or another. I'm going to mark that down as an improvement, believe it or not. But I think that's enough for today. Thank you for talking to me, Liv. Can I walk you to the cafeteria?"

She nodded, and after she got her food, he left her alone once more in her wretched gloom.

The next day, she sat up when he visited. It was the only time she'd done anything but lie in bed. "Olivia, you're looking better."

"Thanks."

Just because he was there didn't mean she felt like talking, and she sat in silence most of the time. But a weight crushed her chest when she thought of him leaving without saying a word. She stared at the wall, painted a steady, mediocre green. Knowing that this was what her life now amounted to, she thought she might suffocate from the hopeless routine of it all.

"I have nobody left."

Now accustomed to her silence, Dr. Lindstrom started. "What, Liv?"

"Except for you, I mean. I'm all alone. I lost my entire support system in one fell swoop."

"I can understand how you feel that way." He nodded slowly. "People aren't meant to handle things alone, Liv. It can cause a breakdown."

"I know."

"I know you know."

They both nodded now. Olivia ventured a little more, because she didn't want him to leave. Maybe if she talked more, he would stay longer. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she said, "I just…it was too much, when Amanda withdrew."

"Did she, though? She was still there, Olivia."

"You know what I mean." She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them. "You and I both know she couldn't stick around when she felt like she was walking such a dangerous line."

He didn't have anything to say about that at first, and she thought she'd stumped him. But he quickly regrouped. "Do you resent her for that?"

"No. I admire her for that. I would have done the same."

The silence ballooned once more, filling the room. But she wasn't ready for him to give up on her yet. "One time when I was a kid, my mom took me out to a reef, and I dived down for shells with my snorkel." Dr. Lindstrom watched her, riveted. "I got into a deep spot, and I went down too far and ran out of air. I thought I was going to suffocate before I could reach the surface. I felt the same way when I knew Amanda was no longer going to be my support."

"Do you still feel that way?"

"I don't know how I feel." She took a second to think about it. "Empty?"

"I know it doesn't feel like it, but time will help a great deal with that. Don't give up on me now, okay, Liv?"

A touch of anxiety in his voice implored her, and she knew now that behind that neutral façade, he really did have a lot invested emotionally in her, and that gave her something to hold onto. He left soon after, but he came back the next day, and every day after.

A week after she was admitted, she had a session that threatened to crack her open. It started out light enough. "You're looking better, Olivia."

"You always say that." She was on the couch, her sweatpants-clad legs curled under her. She still had trouble making eye contact, ashamed of the way she'd caused so much chaos with her desperate suicide attempt.

"Because it's true."

"I've been trying to get more active, walk around a little more."

"That's good."

"No hallucinations?"

"Visual effects, but no hallucinations, no."

"Good."

She rested her chin on her hand, propped up by the arm of the couch. As usual, she had trouble coming up with anything to say. Everything was so atrocious, and she felt flat, absent-minded. Maybe it was the meds.

But she needed to say something, anything, because the silence made her squirm. "I'm more level now than I was before."

"Before what?"

"Before I…got suicidal."

He ignored her mention of suicide for now, and she sighed secretly in relief. "How do you feel about being level?"

"I have a confession, Peter. There were times…with Amanda…when I felt like I was on a high. And I knew part of it was the hallucinogens still affecting me. It felt like I was tripping, but I didn't care, because it pivoted me away from the horrors of the Clark flashbacks and—and I was ecstatic instead."

He nodded. "And so, do you think being all on the same level is better than the extremes?"

"Yeah." She shifted. "Don't get me wrong—I loved the highs, but I had to risk sinking down into the depths to experience those few moments of elation."

"I get that. Part of the levelling is from the anti-depressants."

She nodded. After a moment of playing with his pen, the doctor asked her a question. "Olivia, I've been reluctant to bring this up, but I'm just wondering, why did you decide to cut Elliot out of your life that night?"

It should have been an easier subject, compared to the abductions and the sexual assaults, which she still didn't want to talk about. But suddenly she couldn't get comfortable, and she found a pillow and hugged it to her. The light around her distorted, but she kept her attention on Dr. Lindstrom. "I realized after a hallucination that he wasn't good for me." After reflection, she said, "In fact, none of the men I've dated have been good for me."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Why do I fall for men who are abrasive, angry, verbally abusive at times? I've asked myself that many times. I think it's because…I didn't feel like I deserved better. Look at how my mom treated me. That's just how I thought people treated each other. But over the years at my job, I've realized that it's not what women deserve."

"And what about you, Olivia?" She opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it again. He asked her again, differently this time. "Do you feel like you deserve better now?"

She looked down at her hands. "I don't know, do I? I put Amanda in the impossible position of choosing between turning down my advances when I was vulnerable or following through on them and risk damaging me." A single tear slid down her cheek. "I traumatized the people I care about by practically throwing myself off a building."

"That was an act of desperation, Olivia—"

"I've probably done permanent damage to Noah by putting myself in here." She lowered her voice. "I pushed away all the people I care about. I pushed away Amanda." She locked eyes with Dr. Lindstrom. "So you tell me, do I deserve better?"

His voice soft, he said, "Well I could tell you what I think, Olivia. And I think you know how I feel. Traumatized people act out in ways they normally wouldn't. But eventually, you're going to have to decide for yourself if you think you deserve a respectful, loving relationship." He entwined his fingers, setting them on his knee. "I guess the real question is, do you respect and love yourself?"

She blinked away another tear and wiped her eye with one finger. "I, um…" But she had no good answer to that. Right now, she was having trouble coming up with an answer. "I guess I'm going to have to think about that."

Suddenly she felt small and vulnerable, and she had to escape. "I'm done for today, Doctor."

She stood and brushed past him, her feet quickening with every step until she was practically running. His voice carried from behind her. "Olivia—"

But it was too late—she had reached the limits of her emotional capacity, her body containing all the anxiety and angst that it could handle in one day. She plopped on the bed, resolved not to think about anything at all until she saw Dr. Lindstrom the next day.

Part Three

"What do you mean?"

Olivia could barely keep her eyes open from the combination of heavy meds and dysphoria, which was why she was shocked when Dr. Lindstrom told her the news. In a rare show of physical affection, he rested a hand on her back. "I'm sending you home, Olivia."

"Why?" She walked away and stared out what had become her favorite window. She had accepted that she would be seeing this same view for some time. A realization jolted her. "The last time you sent me home…"

"I know what happened, Olivia. You weren't ready, and I should have listened to you. Do you still feel like you can't handle being on your own?"

She hooked her finger over her lips. "I don't—I don't know."

"Hear me out, Olivia. It's been eight days, but time alone isn't enough of an indicator. But…you haven't had any episodes, and when you have gotten floaters or trails or visual effects, you've recognized it, even when I wasn't there."

"I could still have flashbacks."

"Sure. But you seem more stable to me, Liv. Do you feel like hurting yourself?"

"No."

"Okay. And would you be willing to sign a contract saying that you wouldn't, or at least you would tell me first?"

"Sure." She nodded, and she meant it. She wasn't sure what had shifted within her, but she no longer felt trapped underwater with no oxygen. There was a way out. It wasn't a happy one. No, it was one with no tender fingers touching hers when she was scared, no reassuring face at every scare. This way consisted of a different path—one step at a time, straight ahead. She could do this if she didn't think too much, didn't analyze the reasons why, just kept her head up and focused on cooking dinner or helping Noah with his math homework.

She had a purpose, and she was ready to accept it.

"Because, look, Olivia. If you have any hesitations, or are wondering if you're not ready, let's talk about it."

"No, Doctor. I'm ready."

She got ready, and Dr. Lindstrom took her home, walked her up to her apartment, went inside with her. When she opened the front door, she got three feet within the door and stopped abruptly. Dr. Lindstrom almost ran over her. "Sorry," she said.

"It's okay."

She stood, mesmerized, taking in her own apartment with trepidation. She had sat on that very couch and lied to Amanda about calling Dr. Lindstrom so she could slip out the door and make her way to the roof.

At the time, she'd not been thinking of hurling herself off a building. She just needed some air, and to get away from the source of her pain. As she'd stepped outside, the wind had picked up, blowing her hair around in her face and muddling her thinking. Cool droplets helped wash away the tears, but she'd kept returning to the feeling of losing her sense of reality without Amanda's shimmering eyes to guide her back.

She shook her head, shaking off the thoughts as well.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she said, turning to face him. "Thank you, Peter."

He set her bag on a chair. "It's no problem, okay, Liv?"

"No, really, Doctor. I want you to know that I couldn't have made it through without you." He smiled and blushed, speechless for once. She hugged him and said, "You know, I never had a father, and I know you're probably way too young for that, but you're the closest thing…"

She stopped, but he tightened his hold on her after that. "Call me anytime, and I'll plan on seeing you tomorrow?"

"Sure."

After he left, she braced herself for what she knew was to come. Just as she was unpacking her bags, her bell rang. She went to it and said, "Come on up."

When she opened the door, Noah looked sullen at first, and then resentful. But she said, "Hey, Noah," and bent down to his level, and he looked up with her at glum eyes and fell into her buttressing arms and held onto her so tightly that it nearly hurt. Guilt flooded her as she remembered how she'd nearly left him alone in the world, and she hugged him tighter.

She looked sheepishly up at Amanda, who Dr. Lindstrom had called to bring her son to her. Olivia and Dr. Lindstrom had jointly decided that taking care of Noah was the best way to keep Liv from falling too far into a funk, with the provision that she would ask for help if she was too overwhelmed.

Amanda gave her a weak smile. "Hi," she said, still standing in the doorway.

Olivia understood—Amanda wasn't here to socialize. She was here to drop off Noah and leave. Olivia straightened. "Hi."

She searched Amanda's face for signs of resentment or anger, but all she saw was tears glinting in the corners of her eyes. Noah still clung to her, but Olivia whispered to Amanda, "I'm sorry."

As a tear started to glide down Amanda's cheek, she shook her head. "No, I'm sorry, Olivia."

Olivia had trouble deciding what to do, but she impulsively said, "Well can I have a hug?"

Amanda nodded, and there was lots of sniffling from both of them when they came together, with Noah still holding Olivia like he was seeing her for the last time. "You okay?" Amanda murmured into Olivia's ear.

"Yeah, good."

Amanda held onto the back of Liv's head, but not for long, and they both must have sensed that they had to pull away, because they moved at the same time. They stood and stared at one another, knowing this wasn't the time or place to have a deep discussion.

Amanda took a reluctant step back, her hand slipping away from Olivia's, and thumbed at the door. "Well, I better get back. The girls…"

"Right."

Olivia waited until Amanda was out the door and watched as she glanced back at Olivia while it swung shut.