"So, Adam, tell me more about your family life," Dr. Nolan was sitting next to my bedside again, asking me questions.

"Well, it was hard. My brother and I got along OK, but he eventually left and went to college away from home. He couldn't take all the fighting between my parents. My father wanted to control everything. When he found out he couldn't control my mother and my brother, he controlled me. My hockey career—my life. And, well, I devoted myself to it. It made me happy that he wanted to spend time with me..." The words were spilling out, I had no idea how I was able to say all that.

"I see, what about the past couple years?" Dr. Nolan asked patiently.

"He put a lot of pressure, but from a distance. My parents were not spending much time together. Things were harder, but I still tried to play my heart out. There were injuries and several bumps in the road. So many times when I wanted to give it all up, and have a normal life…" Talking to Dr. Nolan I was starting to realize how much hockey had been eating away from my life.

"But you still stuck with it?"

"Yea, I did. I just would get through it, but it was hard. I really had nobody to turn too when times got tough. I mean the Ducks are my friends, but I've always kind of felt, well, on the outside. I don't know why. I would sometimes have a hard time eating and sleeping. I could barely make it through practices my stomach would hurt so much, but still I pushed through it." By now, I had almost forgotten Dr. Nolan was there. I was just talking, saying things I never meant anybody to hear. I had always figured who would care? They were my problems, I should e able to deal with it.

"What about after his death?"

"I was so bitter. Angry, but I didn't want anybody to know. One day I was angry with my dad—I broke this picture frame. When I was picking up the glass, I cut myself…it felt good. I didn't understand it…I wanted that pain to be anywhere than my heart." I was suddenly embarrassed again and very ashamed. Tears were forming in my eyes and I looked away from Dr. Nolan and tried to make the thoughts stop coming back. I wanted to feel numb again; all these emotions were tumbling out too quickly.

"It's OK, Adam. You made a lot of progress today, much more than I expected. I am going to help you through this, but you have to just try to talk it all out. It is obvious that too much pressure has been put onto you. At 18 nobody should expect you to worry so much about one thing and have to devote your time too it, but you handled it with as much courage as anybody as I have seen. I know you may not believe that, but you did. You are considerate of other people and you took the responsibility like an adult." Dr. Nolan took a breath and gave me a smile. "I think, however, that due to the circumstances you are dealing with more than you should. Adam, you are suffering from clinical depression, but it can be treated and it will get better. Drugs are not the answer for everything, but I am going to prescribe you Zoloft to help straighten out your moods. It will take awhile for full effect, but with that and seeing me you will be on the road to recovery quickly."

I could only nod as I watched Dr. Nolan put some notes onto her clipboard. She stood up and smiled, "OK, well I will see you tomorrow. Take care and if you need me, feel free to have a nurse page me."

"Thanks," I said quietly. At that moment, my mother and Dan walked in. Upon seeing them something inside me ached, but I was happy they were there. Then I saw Charlie, Guy, and Connie standing behind them. For the first time, I actually gave a little smile as the three waved at me. Dr. Nolan say this, and said something to my mom that she wanted to see her and it would be best if I was with my friends for a little bit. She agreed and followed Dr. Nolan out of the room as my friends came in and pulled up chairs.

"Hi guys," I said, more than slightly embarrassed as I shifted uncomfortably in my bed.

They looked equally embarrassed but also very concerned. "How are you? Well, I mean obviously…well I mean…" Charlie couldn't make a coherent sentence.

"I'm OK, better since you guys are here." I told them sincerely.

"Good, we were worried about you, Adam. Everybody is and they all say 'hi,'" Connie told me smiling.

"I'm sorry to give you guys such a scare," I looked away. This was difficult.

"Don't worry about that now. We just want you to get better and come back to the team," Guy answered.

"Yea, if I even get too." I mumbled, suddenly feeling very depressed again.

"Way to go, Guy! Smart cookie you are!" Connie shot at Guy through gritted teeth, "We're here to CHEER him up…"

"Sorry, Adam."

"It's OK." It was getting awkward. It didn't used to be like this, why couldn't I talk to my friends?

We managed to keep a small conversation up, but not without long pauses and uncomfortable sighs. Eventually, the door opened and my mother and Dan came back. Slightly relived I watched my friends stand up and say their good-bye's. My mother sighed as she pulled up a chair by my bed.

"Honey, I am so sorry." She was near tears as she took my hand. "I never meant to put so much pressure on you, you should've told me! I would've tried to help you…am I bad mother?" She was crying now, and I wanted to scream.

"Of course not, mom. It's not you're fault." I mumbled, not sure of what else to say, I really had no words of comfort, and I wasn't about to start playing the parent in the situation. Luckily, for a second time, Dan stepped in and calmed my mother a little so she could at least talk, but the entire time she avoided my eyes.

"I know this is bad timing, Adam, but we have to talk about the move," she took a deep breath, "We are going to start getting everything set, we are looking for a house right now. Dan will go ahead of us and start to get settled. When you are strong enough we will move to Michigan completely."

I was stunned. I had no words to express what I was feeling, but the pit in my stomach was growing "I have to leave? Now? In the middle of the school year? All my friends?" the questions came spilling out as I looked hard at my mother.

"Honey, it's probably best for you anyways, we can hire a tutor or something so you can at least get your diploma. Don't worry everything will be fine. The change might be good, get away from these memories and heartache…" my mother said vaguely, as if she had forgotten I was there, forgotten that I was suffering as well.

I couldn't believe it; she had almost no sympathy or emotion, where had my mother gone?