My cuts are healing. Mom and I are all wrapped up in bandages. Those pills I've been taking all my life were vitamins after all. Mom switched to a low dosage of bipolar medication a few weeks ago. She was scared to tell me. About my dad, that Luka wasn't my birth father, that she had cheated...She thinks it's her fault I'm bipolar. It is, I guess, genetically speaking, but I don't care. She's a good mom, but I can't believe she lied to me. They both lied to me. I'm going to visit Maggie when the bandages come off. Mom would never let me before. It's her birthday in a month, and we're going up to see her. I feel like I need to. Mom told me Daniel died. He stopped taking his meds and got depressed, and he jumped off of an overpass. It's just as well I never met him, I'd probably just be mad at him. Never thought I looked like Mom or Dad. Guess I look like Daniel.
They called psych on Mom last night. She was just in shock though. My mom's not crazy...just Grandma Maggie and I are. Maggie and Aly, the bipolar freaks of the family.
I called John Carter down to my room. I have his pager number. He's the only one who would tell me the truth.
"Hey Als, how are you feeling?"
"Alright...can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"John, I'm....Mom...Abby just told me I'm bipolar."
He nodded.
"You knew?"
He nodded again.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Not my place to..."
"Cut the cr*p."
"What?"
"You told me about Maggie. Why not me?"
"Als, come on..." I turned away from him. "AlyKat, talk to me...I'm sorry." Nicknames. John loved to make up crazy nicknames. He was almost 50...getting too old to try to be my buddy.
"You lied to me."
"I wanted to tell you."
"John, I'm 15, not stupid."
"So act 15." he snapped, walking to the door. "You're bipolar, people lied to you. Deal with it instead of whining. Take your medication so you don't end up like your grandmother. God knows Abby doesn't need that."
I'd never seen John yell. Never even seen him mad. He was always so sweet...and he was leaving me alone. "Wait! John...don't um....don't go. Can you tell me...about Maggie?"
"Aren't you mad at me, Alyson? Don't you hate me for lying?" His sarcasm was scaring me. I thought he might really leave me. And he never called me Alyson. Never.
"John...you..I..."
"What do you want to know?" He sighed.
"What do you mean, end up like her? I am like her, John."
He shook his head. "Maggie didn't take her medication..she said the Lithium made her sick...Abby had to keep an eye on her. Always. I know Abby didn't tell you, but your grandmother didn't like to take care of her. Your parents are paying to keep her in a facility in Minnesota, trying to keep her safe. So just....don't end up like her. Your mom can't handle it all over again."
"I wouldn't do that!" I snapped. "I don't want to be crazy!"
He walked over to my bed. "Als, you're not crazy."
"We're all a little crazy, John. Every one of us. Just look at us! Mom cheating on Dad with some bipolar guy, Dad, his nightmares about Croatia, the war....You, I know about the attack. Your back still hurts sometimes, doesn't it? Phantom pains. The drugs..."
"Shut up! You don't know! these things...the war, the attack...you never get over them. ever. God, you get your cynicism from your mother." He wasn't angry as much as defensive and...terrified.
"And then there's me. Nuts. We're all crazy and we all deny it, but we get one step closer to dying every second, and denying it won't help."
"Don't be such a cynic, Als. You do remind me of your mom...back before she married your dad."
"What do I do, John? Why shouldn't I be cynical?"
"Take your lithium. You'll be fine, I promise." John smiled as his pager went off. "Damn, gotta go. See you later."
"Bye John...sorry...for what I..."
"It's OK." With that, he left me, obviously glad to go.
Mom gave me a photo of Daniel. He looks just like me. But still, Luka...Dad...is a good father. Mom made a mistake...a big one. And everyone lied about it too. But what can I do? Like John said, 'deal with it'. I'll always wonder what Daniel was like, but I won't find out. I could get mad and fight with them all, but what's the point? Without them, I'm all alone. Everyone's getting one step closer to dying, but what good does it do to count the days? I don't know, but sometimes I catch myself anyway counting the steps.