Chapter 18
Dawson
My whole body shook and my ribcage felt like it would crack under the building pressure as I tried to tamp down my rage. My focus was zeroed in on the orange bottle in Theo’s hand and ice slid down my spine.
I’d almost talked myself out of coming over here after I spotted Dad talking to Theo outside.
The miserable defeat that shadowed his features before he took off compelled me to follow him.
Dad had tried to tell me to give him space when I’d rushed past him, but I wasn’t having it.
As pissed as I was at Theo for his stunt on the lake, I couldn’t bear to see him upset.
I’d seen that look enough recently to last a lifetime and then some.
But watching him toss back whatever the fuck pill that was made me want to wring his neck. Any doubt I had of Theo’s addiction vanished and I surged forward, snatching the bottle out of his grip.
“No, don’t!” Theo protested with wide, panicked eyes, but I held it out of his reach.
“I can’t fucking believe you. Why do you keep doing this shit to yourself?” I snapped.
“Wait, what? What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I mean. Did you get this crap from Corvin?”
“What? It’s not—just stop freaking out and let me explain!”
“No, I’m done with your excuses. Since you won’t do anything to help yourself, I’ll do it for you.”
I made a mad dash for the hallway bathroom with Theo close behind, yelling frantically.
He caught up and he began wrenching, yanking, pulling at anything to stop me.
It was a cacophony of curses and shouts, grunts and shoves until I made it through the doorway and came to an abrupt stop in front of the toilet, holding the bottle above it threateningly.
“Stop! Fuck, please! I need those,” Theo gripped at his hair wildly, looking close to tears. I had a moment of pity that the drugs had such a hold on him and it broke my fucking heart. How could he have gotten this bad?
The sheer desperation on his face gave me pause and I suddenly felt exhausted. I wondered if I’d even be able to save him if he didn’t want to be saved. If the pills and alcohol were most important to him now, where did that leave me?
My eyes burned and I grimaced at the spike of pain behind my ribs.
“Why? Why did you do this to yourself?” I choked out.
He tilted his head, shooting me a bewildered look. “What do you mean? I have no other choice. I was doing it for you.”
I reared back, my brain going a hundred miles an hour to try to make sense of what he was saying.
“You did…what? Theo, there is always a choice! How could poisoning yourself with drugs and getting high be for me? I can help you, but you can’t keep turning to this shit!”
I could practically hear his gears turning and saw when it clicked for him. He let out a sharp breath and grimaced, gesturing at the bottle.
“It’s really not what you think. Read the label.”
I was weirdly nervous to look away from him, but did as he said. The first thing I noticed was Theo’s name printed neatly on the sticker, which made me feel like a huge tool. It was his prescription, not some party drug he scored. But printed under that, in bold, was Lithium Carbonate.
“What is this?”
Theo’s gaze met mine, fearful and resigned. “It’s used for bipolar disorder.”
Hundreds of pieces snapped together in quick succession. Everything I thought I understood about Theo and his issues dissolved and I was left floundering. Weird, stuttering sounds came out of my mouth as I struggled to process four simple words.
“So…that means you’re…bipolar?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that the reason—”
“Uh huh.”
I was reeling from this new revelation. A dozen emotions spun in my head interspersed with several questions I needed answers to. I set the bottle down on the counter with all the care of handling a live bomb, and scrubbed a hand over my jaw.
“Okay. This is a lot. First, let’s get out of this bathroom so we can talk.”
“You’re not leaving?”
My forehead creased at the surprise in his voice. “No, of course not. Why would I?”
He lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug before dropping his gaze to the bottle on the counter.
Tension radiated from Theo’s slouched frame and it hurt to see him so unsure of himself, so afraid of how I’d react.
I’d jumped to so many conclusions that I’d only managed to drive him further into that protective shell he’d been hiding inside.
I gingerly reached out to grab his hand, relieved when he didn’t pull away from me. He didn’t look at me and his palm felt clammy against my own. I slid by him and led us to his room, gently steering him to sit down on the edge of the mattress before I wheeled his desk chair over for myself.
“I’m not even sure where to start.” I leaned forward on my knees and tried to gather my thoughts. “When did you find out you were…um…”
“It’s not a bad word, Dawson. You can say it,” Theo said icily.
I winced, but nodded in agreement. “You’re right. I’m sorry. When did you get diagnosed as bipolar, I mean?”
“A couple weeks before Homecoming,” he murmured.
“You’ve known that long?”
“Yeah. Remember when you started to notice I’d been acting weird senior year?”
His brows furrowed for a bit before they softened in realization. “I do. I couldn’t figure out what was going on with you…”
“You weren’t the only one. Dad had been worried when my grades started slipping, my sleep turned to shit, and my moods had been up and down every few months.
He took me to see a psychologist because he didn’t think my ADHD was fully to blame for my issues, and he was right.
When I found out what was actually wrong with me, I just couldn’t deal.
I freaked out and ended up buying that Oxy on a whim. ”
“Does that mean you don’t have ADHD then?”
“No, I do. I just have both. It’s actually common to have bipolar disorder and ADHD together. At least that’s what the psychologist said.”
“I’m guessing this is part of the reason you went to live with your mom out of nowhere?”
Theo’s chin dipped in confirmation. “Mom hadn’t known about the diagnosis before I ended up in the hospital.
Once Dad told her, she found some bougie mental health facility close to her place, paid out the nose to secure me a spot, and it was a done deal before I even woke up.
She’d even decided I’d go to college close to her so she could keep an eye on me. ”
He picked at his nails, staring absently at my knees as he spoke. His voice was detached, emotionless. Worry clawed at me that this was too much for him right now, but I also didn’t want to give him the chance to escape the long overdue conversation.
“Did rehab help at least?” I asked cautiously.
“It did…until it didn’t,” he answered cryptically.
“What do you mean?”
“That first time, I was there for four weeks. They were able to stabilize me, start me on meds, and got me into therapy. I did okay for a couple months after that, even got my grades back up while I did homeschooling. But I hated the medicine they gave me. The side effects were trash and they made me feel off.”
“Off how?”
Theo’s brows furrowed and he nibbled his lip in thought.
“It’s hard to explain. It’s like experiencing the world through a pane of glass.
Everything is muted and just…distant. Emotions, creativity, all of it.
My brain was like a rapidly depleting battery and I was always tired.
Schoolwork that I used to do in thirty minutes took me hours.
I didn’t find anything interesting or funny anymore.
It was fucking miserable, so I stopped taking them. ”
I had trouble imagining Theo like that, limited and restrained. As long as I’d known him, he’d been spirited, magnetic and impossible to ignore.
“What happened then?”
“I felt amazing. I had this uncontainable energy. Everything was funny, everything held appeal. Books, music, people, ideas. Nothing could bring me down or scare me. I could function on just a couple hours of sleep and still take on anything. I felt like the best version of myself.”
A knot formed in my stomach at his wistful tone. It sounded like an exhausting state to be in, but Theo spoke as though he longed to have that feeling back.
“But the problem was that others didn’t agree,” he chuckled mirthlessly.
“Mom and Doug would say I was talking too fast, that I didn’t make sense, I was too temperamental, I didn’t get enough sleep, and I was ‘too much’ to handle.
Where I thought I was creative, they saw me as chaotic.
I felt strong, they saw reckless. I felt invincible, they saw delusional. ”
“They sent you back to rehab?” I hazarded a guess.
“Right after I stayed up all night painting a giant mural on their dining room wall. I didn’t have paint in the house, so I had to improvise with permanent markers, different sauces from the kitchen, and Mom’s very expensive makeup.”
A startled laugh escaped me and I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Wait, seriously?”
Theo gave a quiet snort of amusement. “Yeah, she didn’t exactly appreciate that. But they said it was obvious I was manic and off my meds, so they carted me off again. That time was different though.”
Something haunted flashed in his eyes and he fidgeted with his hands. I glanced down and noticed blood where he was picking at little scabs scattered across his hands. Instinctively, I grasped both his hands in mine to stop him hurting himself.
Theo’s gaze darted to mine, scared and glassy. My thumbs started rubbing soothing patterns into the back of his hands and I felt the tension leach from his body.
“Tell me how it was different,” I urged him softly.
“They immediately upped my dose when I was admitted. I leveled out after a couple of days, but the side effects were worse and instead of only feeling dimmed, I felt hopeless. Helpless. Like I’d never be happy again. Like I was in a hole I had no hope of climbing out of.”
“Oh, Theo…”