I've been having some posting issues lately...I don't know if it's my crappy computer or what but it's been really strange. My chapters keep disappearing after Chapter 15. Well, just not showing up. And only for this story. Anyone know what the hell's going on? Let me know! Of course, if you're seeing this...screw that. Well, it's time for the whole "depression's a disease" thingy that you could see coming from 20 miles away...see, that's the problem with things I write for my own amusement, not too many plot twists. Well, there's a plot twist coming up, it's a bit strange but trust me on this. Go Snape!
Minerva, just when I need her. She came in and could just smell that something was up.
"Severus."
"I haven't been drinking, Minerva, honestly I haven't..."
"I believe you. I do. What's wrong." It wasn't a question, trust me.
"Nothing."
"Please don't waste your energy lying to me."
"Okay, okay, I'll tell you." And I did.
"You should go to Dumbledore. He shouldn't just be able to do that." I laughed.
"Well, what's going to happen to him? Is he going to get expelled?" Minerva sighed.
"I see what you're saying, but he can still be punished."
"Just drop it, Minerva." By then, she was sitting on the bed next to me. She was getting this passionate-cause look in her eyes that was pretty attractive but not what I really wanted at that moment in time.
"I won't just drop it! Have you given up? Just-just given up?"
"You could put it that way if you really want to, but it's not really necessary." She put her head in her hands.
"Oh my god, Severus. Have you-have you always been like this? Always? Like, your entire life? Just never enjoying anything? Just never actively trying to improve your life? I'm not being mean, I'm just saying, I'd really like to know. If that's the way it's been for a long time it not your fault, and it's not your fault even if it hasn't been a long time." I thought a little about that. I wanted to give her a good answer, a really truthful one. Mainly because I wanted to see what she'd do next.
"Well, essentially yes, but my life has always been shitty. I mean, when I was a real little kid I had hobbies and things, I liked Quidditch and comic books...but then...I suppose that when I was in school even though my life was a hell I liked to study, and I did enjoy potionmaking...oh, I don't know, I used to like drinking though I suppose that doesn't count, does it. Being a Death Eater was nice at first, but then...well, obviously, the First War was not a great time for me. Then afterwards, the years just became sort of a blur, the alcohol helped block things out and I didn't really have to deal with myself or much of anything else...but then Potter came and screwed up my system and my fragile little construct just collapsed and I could barely live from day to day. I just started drinking-well, you know about that, and I was so incredibly just in this hole, this pit, this spiral, I know it sound cliché but it's true. It's really hard to describe. And now...I'm just very aware and I don't like it all that much and I'm dealing with a lot of new things and new concepts and I don't know what's going to happen to me next or even if I can live through this." I could tell that I had scared the hell out of Minerva.
"Live through?"
"Well, uh...I'm worried. I'm just worried. That something'll happen or I'll do something really stupid. I mean, I won't..."
"But then why are you worried?"
"Goddammit, Minerva, I-well...wouldn't you be if your life was like mine?" She thought a moment.
"I see where you're coming from. Severus, I want you to please consider doing something for me."
"Oh, what? This I've gotta hear."
"I want to know if you'd consider going to St. Mungo's with me. Just...talking to some professionals, seeing what they can do for you...I think you're sick, Severus, and it's really not your fault."
"Oh, no no no. There's nothing wrong with my brain. I am not sick, I'm just pathetic. I just enjoy wallowing in self-pity. And I'm not telling anyone I don't know a damn thing."
"Depression's an illness, Severus."
"Yeah, one that I don't have."
"Well, don't take my word for it. Talk to someone who knows more about this than I do. Just-please. Just go, and listen, and I'll be right there, and you can say as much or as little as you feel like. Please. And they can help with the drinking, too. Please, sweetie, please."
"All right." Not sure why I said yes. Probably was the sweetie.
Well, so, tomorrow I'm supposedly seeing a shrink. And in about two hours I'm meeting with Albus. It was actually his idea, but it'll give me a good opportunity to whine about Potter. That boy is completely incorrigible. And for the rest of his life, he won't have to lift a finger. He'll get everything on a goddamn silver platter. Bastard. Just like his stupid dead father and his stupid father's stupid dead friend. I wonder who ended up better off, me or them. Probably them, because at least they were happy before they died. I don't really know why I'm so adamant about thinking that I'm not "sick." I suppose it's just...I know I'm not. It's probably an alcoholic mentality thing. And why did I stop drinking, anyway? Well, for Minerva. And then there's the health thing, I guess. But I don't really care about my health. And somehow I doubt that I'll start caring anytime soon. And then there's the slow destruction of brain cells...but I'm old, past my prime anyway. I really don't know in the long run. There's always the possibility that at some point in the future I'll be all happy that I stopped. Huh. Maybe. For now, it's just so much work and I have so little self-control. It takes so much of my energy. But I won't give up, or Minerva will dump me and she'll hate me and she'll cry.