Chapter 28: Blurry

Everything's so blurry

And everyone's so fake

And everybody's empty

And everything is so messed up

Pre-occupied without you

I cannot live at all

My whole world surrounds

I stumbled, then I crawl

Sean

I cruised along the street in a fucking Lexus GX. Not kidding. I never though that I, Sean Cameron, trailer trash boy, would ever be driving a Lexus. But I am. And it's all thanks to the giving wallet of Christian Nash. I can only imagine how rich I look driving this thing. Jay turned the bass up even louder as we pimped out to Jay-Z. We were both kind of hoping the music would cheer Ellie up- whose grudgingly admitted that Jay-Z wasn't that bad over the summer.

"Go read a book you illiterate son of a bitch; step up your vocab," Jay sang. He looked back at Ellie. "Huh? Huh, Ellie? Is that a smile? You like that line, right? It's your favorite part, right?"

That would be her favorite lyric. Not even "Big Pimpin'" managed to get a smile from her, though. She just stared out the back window as we drove her to her appointment.

"Man, this is sweet. Whaddya say we take a road trip? British Columbia anyone?" Jay moved his head to the beat of a music. You'll never find Jay happier than when he's cruising in a top-rate car. He craned his head back and looked at Ellie. "Whaddya think, Nash?"

She looked at him and shrugged. "Fine with me."

Jay laughed. "Man, even Ellie thinks so. Let's do it."

"Um, I would if I didn't have a baby to take care of."

"Oh yeah, that's right. You're all mature and shit now. Look at Mr. Mature here, Ellie. He thinks he's so adult now that he has a kid."

"Not that Ellie would know anything about that." I looked at Ellie's reaction through the rearview mirror. She didn't say anything.

Five minutes later, I pulled in front of the building where Dr. Brahm's office was located. I put the car in park and turned around in my seat to face Ellie. "I'll pick you up in an hour."

She unbuckled her seatbelt and placed a hand on my chair, drawing herself close to me. I sucked in my breath as I waited for her. Was she actually going to kiss me? It's been forever since she's even touched me. Two weeks to be exact. Two weeks since she's even laid a finger on me.

But she didn't kiss me. Instead she opened her mouth and chewed me out quietly. "You think you're funny and clever and mature, don't you? I have news for you big boy, you're not. You don't know what I'm going through right now, okay? So don't you dare treat me as if I'm some monster. Don't bother picking me up, and don't bother talking to me again."

I watched her silently as she backed away from me, tears sliding down her face, and jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind her. She wiped at her face as she entered through the large double doors that led into the building. I sat in the car for awhile, not moving. Jay was the first to say anything.

"Um, wow. Okay, she's crazy."

"I think she is," I agreed quietly. I shook my head and put the car into drive. "Whatever. She doesn't want me to talk to her again? Then I won't."

"Dude, you too just got back together it seems like. Not that I really care or anything, but something's up. Ellie Nash would never cry in front of me unless it was something serious."

I gave Jay's opinion little thought. I was just too fed up to believe that something could be wrong with her. I must admit that I'm kind of proud of how well I'm handling this situation. I'm staying calm and mature. This is the sort of dad Brayden needs. The thought of Brayden smiling up at me at the hospital made a grin spread across my face.

"Oh, God... he's thinking about the baby. Since when did you become such a pussy?"

"Jay you'll understand when you have kids of your own."

"I think Alex is totally against having kids. Ellie's even got her worried. And Alex never worries."

I had to agree with him there. Alex was about as worry-free as they come. Nothing gets to her. A part of me wanted to talk to Ellie and try and figure out what was wrong, but another part of me just wanted to leave her alone and let her sort it out. After all, I have my own things to worry about.

"Can you believe Brayden can come home tomorrow?" I looked over at Jay as we stopped at a stoplight.

He drummed his fingers against the door and shook his head. "Nope. But it seems like he's been in the hospital forever."

"Yeah, I know."

I wonder if things will be different once Brayden is back at the apartment with us. Who knows, maybe that's exactly what Ellie needs. I just can't imagine what the hell could have happened to her after she gave birth. It's like she's totally shut off from reality or something. And as much as I want to just write her off, I can't. Because I still love her. I may not like the person she is right now, but I'm still in love with her. So, does that make me a complete idiot? I don't know, but I've gone for so long without having anything to call my own, and now that I've find it in her and Brayden... I'm not letting my family go.

Ellie

I sat still in the chair, my back as straight as a board and my hands resting on my knees. I couldn't even look Dr. Brahm in the eye. Maybe it was the embarrassment or the guilt I was feeling.. I don't know.

"Ellie? Our times almost up. Is there anything you want to say?" she looked at me expectantly over the brim of her chic glasses.

I rubbed my hands nervously up and down my legs and bit the inside of my cheek. What is with me? Why can't I go five seconds without crying today?

"How about we do an exercise. I say a word, and you say the first thing that pops in your head when you hear it. Okay?"

I sighed with annoyance, but nodded. I might as well just get it over with. Still, I couldn't help but feel like this was my first time in therapy with Ms. Sauve or something. It'd taken me four counseling sessions with her before I was even able to utter a word. Not many people would be that patient with me.

"Okay. Here we go: Cartoon."

"Childhood."

"Milk."

"Cow."

"Book."

"Fiction."

"Flower."

"Tulip."

"Daisy."

"Simple."

"Difficult."

"Me."

Dr. Brahm let out a peal of laughter and held up a hand. "I'm sorry! Oh, that's wonderful, Ellie."

"Why is that wonderful?" I was confused.

"It's just... sometimes you're funny without realizing it."

"I was being honest. I'm difficult. Aren't I?"

"The truth?"

"Yes. The Truth. Please."

She leaned forward and put a comforting hand on my knee. I crossed my legs, causing her hand to slip off. She ignored my action. "Everybody's difficult. Even those people that think they're easy-going and simple... they're not. You're not as weird as you think you are, Ellie."

"Who said I thought I was weird?"

"Okay, sorry. You never said that."

"Do you think I'm weird?"

"No! You're unique."

"That's a nice way of saying weird."

She smiled and looked at the list of word she had scribble down. "Okay... For cartoon you said childhood. What was your favorite cartoon growing up, Ellie?"

"I don't know... I really liked the classics- Looney Tunes. You know, you can watch them now, when you're older, and they're still as funny. But you see more of a mature humor to them. And I liked the Tiny Toons series. The modern version of Looney Tunes. It made me laugh so much."

"Who'd you like best from Looney Tunes?"

"I always liked Pepe Le Peu. And I guess you could say I always had a soft spot for Wile E. Coyote."

"But he was the bad guy!"

I leaned forward in my chair, suddenly animated with the talk of something other than recent events. "I know, but he was so persistent... I loved the little guy. I couldn't stand the Road Runner. He did absolute shit and always got away with it. Poor Coyote actually shows some focus and drive and ambition and never gets rewarded!"

"I guess you do have a point there. I think a lot of people sympathize for the Coyote secretly."

I nodded my head in total agreement. "I'm sure of it, too. He represents the simple man trying to make his way in life. And it's pitiful to watch him never get anywhere."

She smiled and looked back down at her notebook. "Milk makes you think of a cow. Why's that?"

"Well for obvious reasons... Milk comes from... Can I be honest here?"

She leaned forward and looked at me intensely. "Of course."

"I didn't really think of 'cow' first. The first word that popped into my head was 'baby', but I don't want to talk about that."

"Why not?"

"You're trying to trick me into talking about it right now, aren't you? I'm not stupid."

"No, you're not. You're very clever, actually. But can you just tell me why you don't want to talk about it?"

I mulled it over in my mind. I might as well just get it out there and over with. "It's embarrassing. What kind of mother am I if I can't even provide for my baby? I don't even want to be around him. And that's horrible. But I feel like I don't even know who I am anymore. What's to become of me? So I'm one more teenaged mother statistic. Fucking great!"

I held back a sob as I let it out. It felt so good to just get out what I'd been holding in me this entire time. I looked back up at Dr. Brahm, expecting her to be looking at me with shame and hatred. But she wasn't. She nodded her head in understanding.

"Why can't you provide for your baby?"

"I can't breast feed," I told her matter-of-factly. "I didn't even want to breast feed before. I thought it was disgusting. And now... I guess that's what I get, huh?"

She smiled and folded her arms across her chest. "There are some people who just don't feel comfortable with breast feeding. It's okay, Ellie. And sometimes, those people change their minds after they give birth. You changed your mind?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"And now you feel... unfit because you can't?"

"Yeah, exactly. Unfit, worthless... You name it."

"And you don't want to be around him because...?"

"Because I'm a horrible mother! I don't even know what to do. Sure I aced the childcare project at school... but that was a little doll. This is the real thing. I feel like Brayden doesn't even need me."

I clenched my jaw and blinked back tears as I thought back to the night I had watched him cry in the NICU, unable to even relieve him of whatever pain he was feeling. He doesn't need me. What can I honestly give him that Sean can't? Nothing. Sean can give him everything he needs, so what's the point of having me around?

"You feel like you have nothing to offer. Ellie, look at me. Remember when we made a list of your good and bad qualities?"

I nodded tearfully.

"Remember that list. How many things did we put on that list? We put down intelligent, kind, gentle, passionate, honest, loyal... Ellie, those are all things you can offer Brayden! He needs you. He needs you to show him how to treat a woman. He needs a strong woman figure in his life. You're strong."

I tried to take what she was saying to heart. But it's hard. How can I allow myself to see my qualities when I feel like this? I'm so sick of feeling this way. And I'm sick of everyone acting as if I'm this horrible person because I'm not happy. "Can we please not talk about this anymore?" I whispered.

Dr. Brahm stood up straight and adjusted her glasses. "Well... Yes. We can for today. Where were we before? Ah, book. You said fiction. What's your favorite book?"

I ran the sleeve of my sweatshirt across my eyes and nose. "Guess," I challenged her.

"Let's see. I bet it's something so off-beat and quirky... I don't know. A Clockwork Orange? One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest? Tell me."

"It's not off-beat. It's not quirky. It's a classic. Les Miserables."

"I've never read that."

"You should. Everybody should read it."

"Who writes it?" She opened her notebook again and poised her pen over it.

"Victor Hugo."

"Ah, okay. I'll check it out."

"You won't be able to put it down."

"Okay, tell me why it's your favorite."

I wrapped my arms around me and thought about the question. "I don't know. I think it's the characters. They're just so relatable; it's like each one of them represents a different quality. You have the police officer who's law-abiding and there's a right and wrong with him... He's judgmental and hard... And then you have the students of the revolution who are searching for truth and art and poetry and..." My voice trailed off and my eyes fell to my lap.

"Beauty?"

I looked back up. "Yeah. Beauty."

"Sounds like you. You believe in laws. You believe in morals and values and rules. But you also believe that some rules are just made to be broken. You're constantly searching for beauty- whether it be music or art or written word... You think that something better can always be achieved. You value truth. Am I right?"

I nodded.

"Just out of curiosity- is there a love story involved?"

I nodded again, a smile forming on my face. "How did you know?"

"Not to be forward or anything, but you seem like the kind of person that's been hurt before. You have a hard time trusting people. You don't fully let yourself out there because you're afraid of getting broken. You like love stories because they involve putting yourself out there. But usually they have happy endings. You like the idea of a pure and perfect love. A love story holds in the highest regards everything you treasure- truth, loyalty, and passion."

She was reading me like a fucking book. How the hell was she doing this?

"Anyway... tulips?"

I shrugged, "I like them."

"Simple?"

"Sometimes it's the simple things that count most."

"And then we're back to you being difficult."

"Yeah, me being difficult. Everyone thinks I'm difficult these days."

"Because you're not letting them in to how you feel."

"Yes, I am!" I argued.

"No, Ellie, you're not. You may say you're angry or you're sad, but you're not saying why."

"Yes, I have!"

"Then maybe you're not saying it loud and clear enough. I want to give you an assignment. I want you to go up to someone who thinks you're being difficult and say this: I feel... because... You can fill in the blanks yourself. You think you can do that?"

No.

"You have to let your guard down, Ellie. You can't hide behind your tough look anymore. You can't lift your chin in defiance anymore. Because it's not working. There is a sadness in your eyes that you can't hide. You want to be in control but right now you're out of control. I'm going to find a way to help you, though."

I stood up angrily. "You can pretend all you want that you know how I feel or what I'm thinking, but you don't."

"You're doing it, Ellie. You're pushing me away. You were finally letting me in, and now you're pushing me away."

I gathered my bag and started for the door. "Just because we played a little word association game doesn't give you the right to tell me there's something wrong with me. Because there isn't. I'm fine."

Sean

I looked up from the kitchen table as the door opened and slammed. Jay looked at me from his permanent spot on the couch and rolled his eyes. I saw him mouth "drama queen" and I smirked. I looked at the clock on the wall and grimaced at the time. It was one in the morning and she was just getting in? Now I know her therapy session didn't take that long.

"Where've you been?" I asked, trying to be all nonchalant as Ellie walked into the room.

She looked at me like I had just shaken her out of a daze. "What?"

"Where've you been?" I repeated. "Your appointment was over hours ago."

"I took a walk."

"For like seven hours? Long walk," Jay mused, his eyes glued to the boxing match he was watching.

She rolled her eyes and headed back towards the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower," she announced to no one in particular.

But at least she was talking.

She didn't come out of the bathroom for a half-hour and, by that time, I was struggling with my English assignment. I was supposed to read this poem and then write a page analysis about it. So far, I had no idea what the hell the poem was about. I glanced back up at the clock with tired eyes and sighed. If I didn't get working on this, I'd be up for hours.

The bedroom door opened, and Ellie emerged in her pajamas. I secretly watched her as she padded into the kitchen and got a glass of water, drinking it in the doorway as she looked at Jay, who'd fallen asleep in a contorted position. Her face looked composed and completely void of all emotion. If it wasn't for the sorrow in her eyes, I would have thought she was numb.

"I wonder if he's comfortable," she wondered out loud, her voice sounding foreign in the still room.

"I don't know," I offered lamely. Why are we being like this? Have we come this far only to dissolve into two strangers who can barely hold a conversation together?

"What are you doing?"

"Homework. English. Very painful."

"What is it?" She slowly made her way to the kitchen table and took a seat in one of the empty chairs next to me.

I handed her my notebook where I had written the assignment. She nodded and gave the notebook back to me. "Did you read the poem?"

"Yeah, but I don't get it."

"What do you think the poet was feeling when he wrote it?"

I racked my brain for something intelligent to say. "Mad?" Dumb. I know.

She nodded slowly, her mouth a straight line. "Mad. Maybe. Read it out loud."

I read it out loud to her. Halfway through she joined me, reciting the lines with me softly from memory.

"A lot of it depends on how you read it. You remember how you read it? Now listen to me say it."

I listened intently as she spoke the words to the poem. The words tumbled out easily from her lips, but every word looked like it hurt her to say it. Her voice was filled with raw emotion as she recited it to me.

"Now, what emotion do you get from it?"

"Sadness."

"Yeah, sadness," she repeated, looking down. I got the feeling we weren't really talking about the poem anymore.

"There's the part where he talks about what could've been. That's probably the saddest part of it."

"And why is he sad?"

"Because he lost something?"

"Yeah. He's lost something."

"But what? I don't get it. I mean, he never talks about what he specifically lost."

"That's what makes it so universal. He never pins it down to one thing. It could be about him losing a parent or a child or a lover... Or maybe it's just losing his comfort or... or pride..."

"You don't look very proud right now," I mentioned. Yeah, are you proud? Are you proud of how completely miserable you've been? And how miserable you've made me and everyone else? I narrowed my eyes at her.

She stared at her hands. "I'm not feeling very proud right now."

I blinked a few times at her honest remark. I reached forward to take her hands, but she snatched them away.

"El, what's wrong?"

"I don't really know. I'm sorry I'm acting like such a witch," she cried softly.

I wanted to comfort her and tell her that she wasn't, but I didn't want to lie. I kept screaming at myself to reach forward again and hug her as she cried, but I couldn't move. Instead, I stood still as she got up and retreated back into the bedroom.

That night, after I finished my homework, I crawled into bed alongside her. She didn't stir as I slipped under the covers, but I could tell she was awake. I didn't bother to kiss her on the cheek or squeeze her shoulder affectionately as I had grown accustomed to doing in the past. This time, I just laid in bed and thought about the page I had just written. I think I know exactly what the poet had lost that spurred him to write such a depressing poem: his girlfriend.

I'm sorry I'm making Ellie so depressing and difficult. In case it wasn't apparent by the last few chapters: Ellie is dealing with post-partem depression. That's it. I mentioned "baby blues" before, but I meant that as the blues some new mothers have for a few days after giving birth. As this is a few weeks afterwards, it's definitely more than just "baby blues". I hope that clears it up. Thanks for all the encouragement you guys are giving me- you're too flattering. I'm only writing what I've seen experienced through people I know. I definitely didn't want to write something half-ass about such an important topic.

Next chapter- Brayden comes home! And I want to have someone express concern that Ellie might be suffering from post-partem depression, but I'm not exactly sure who I'll have do that. I know Dr. Brahm is realizing that it's probably a possibility, but I don't know too much about the confidentiality thing between doctors/patients. Is she allowed to express concern to someone else if she doesn't give away exactly what was said in the meetings? I'm not sure. It's something I'll have to think about. If you guys have any suggestions- I'm always up for them.

crashetburn- thanks for schooling me in the DMV-IR- thing... When I first read it I kept thinking Bureau of Motor Vehicles- my worst fear! lol I know some of the stuff Ellie's been involved with in the past- sex at a young age, drugs- is a lot to deal with, but I'm trying to make it as realistic as possible. I draw some things that people I know have dealt with- but only people who were very Ellie-like characters :) I've gone to school withsome highly messed up peoplein my tiny little hometown. But I really appreciate your constructive criticism.