Chapter 10 (Dana):
I hear those kind of stories in the news all the time and cringe. You know the ones. The ones that make you take pause. That make you want to change the world, but you are forced to do nothing but sit on the couch and watch. I hear them all the time, but for it to happen to someone I know? Someone I care about. It’s doesn’t seem real. Alex’s story was horrific. I’ve spent most of my life in some form of treatment center, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard a story that tragic. I honestly don’t know how she has stayed so strong. I can’t believe all this time I’ve confided in Alex about my pathetic life when she was living a literal hell inside of her. I feel like the worst friend in the world. I know Sam feels the same way. Her, Logan and I have talked about it. Logan was surprised too. He’s never been a huge fan of Alex, but after hearing her story he developed profound respect for her. He was pissed as hell that no one did more to help her. Although I am sure any decent human being would be pissed off after hearing her story.
I saw the look in Gunner’s eyes as she told her story. I know him too well. I knew there was nothing that was going to stop him from going after this guy. I didn’t have a right to stop him either. Alex deserves her happy ending. She deserves to feel safe. I just, I trust Gunner, but this guy sounds like a real monster. He sounds connected. How in the world is Gunner supposed to end this guy without getting killed? I can’t lose him, and I’m terrified I will. Not to mention I have to be careful when and where I express my fears because Alex can’t hear that I’m afraid. I have to pretend I am totally fine with it. I know she already feels guilty. I don’t want to make that worse for her. If she finds out I’m struggling she will make it her personal mission to stop him and bring him back to me. Not that anyone could deter Gunner once he’s set his mind to something, but it would only make things more complicated and potentially put Alex in harm's way. That’s the last thing any of us need, especially Rex.
Right now I’m literally hauled up in my Nashville apartment wearing oversized sweatpants, watching rom-coms and drinking hot chocolate. I can’t get my butt to move, because then worry sets in. I’m pretty sure I haven’t consumed anything other than the aforementioned hot cocoa. Sam’s checked on me a bunch of times, but she is busy and overwhelmed like the rest of us. Apparently Alex left town yesterday to go back to Missouri with Rex. I don’t know what’s going on but Sam was pretty tight lipped about why she left so abruptly. She’s definitely keeping something from me. I know when Sam’s lying to me. She’s very matter of face and professional, and that is so not like her. Not to mention the fact that Alex didn’t say goodbye to me. I’d be hurt if I wasn’t so sure there was something else going on. They all think I’m weak That’s why I need Gunner back. He sees me as strong. He challenges me. Everyone else treats me with kid gloves, and I hate it. It’s insulating, but I try and remind myself they do it because they love me.
I pull the blanket up higher. I think the movie I’m watching right now is called Love Actually. I don’t really know. I have YouTube hooked up my TV so movies have just been playing one after another for hours. I’ve lost track. I’m actually relieved when my phone rings. I feel like such trash right now. I hate that I am this worried about a guy, but this guy is my best friend and last time he went out half cocked and pissed I found him tied to a chair and beaten so….
“Hello, it’s Dana.”
“Hey Dana. It’s Logan. How are you?”
I jump off the couch.
“I’m good. How are you? It’s so good to hear from you Logan.”
I start to pace the living room, and my arms shake with excitement. I need my brother. It really is so good to hear from him. I never get calls from him anymore. Not calls specifically meant for me.
“I’m good. I’m good. Busy, you know how it is. Hey, Sam called me and told me I should maybe check in with you. What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on with me! I’m allowed to chill and watch rom-coms and drink hot chocolate for a bit. That doesn’t mean anything is wrong. It means I'm relaxing.”
“It’s also called isolating. Worried about your guy?”
“He can take care of himself.”
I can hear Logan taking a deep breath. I know I’m being stubborn and rude, but for some reason that is my M.O. with him. It must be a brother/sister thing.
“I know he can take care of himself Dana, but I figured after all that went down with him recently you’d be a little worried. Plus, I heard you’ve lost weight. Are you eating okay?”
“Oh my gosh! I’m fine. I just put some cinnamon in my hot chocolate. That’s all! Okay? Cinnamon helps your metabolism.”
That breaks the tension. Logan starts cracking up.
“Oh man,” he says as he tries to catch his breath, “I’ve been working way too hard. I’m gonna tell my trainer I’m never eating chicken and broccoli again.”
A smile spreads across my face. “I miss you bro. Sometimes I miss just us. I love everyone, don’t get me wrong, but…”
“I understand Dana. We need to make more time for each other. Hanging out, just the two of us. Like old times.”
“I’d like that.” A lot.
“Then it’s a plan sis. Anyway, I gotta go. I just wanted to check in with you. See if you were okay. I love you.”
“I love you too. I’m so proud of you Logan. You’re such a great guy.”
“Thanks Dana.”
Click.
With that one sound I am all alone again. As the silence rings throughout the room I decided to wrap myself back up in my security blanket. Everything is just too much. I think Sam feels the same way. There just is not enough time between tragedies to recover. Sam was taken a year ago, then I was nearly murdered by a gang known for killing less than a few months ago, I nearly lost Gunner and now all the revelations about Alex. Worst of all is the threat of losing my best friend all over again hanging in the air. It is taking everything I have not to fall back into old patterns. My urges higher than they’ve been in years, and it’s really crazy to me in this moment that I have been in recovery for years. It sure doesn’t feel like it. It’s in this moment that I realize I’m slipping. I’m isolating, barely eating, I’ve missed therapy appointments, I want to self harm so bad I’ve been envisioning exactly how I’d do it.
I hate how weak I am.
I grab my phone and reach out to the one person I swore I wouldn’t. I wanted to prove I could do this on my own. I never can. Not without my demons.
Me: “Hey. If you get a free second from kicking ass can u call me. No biggie.- D”
Not even thirty minutes later I hear a familiar ringtone. The one I set just for him. I practically leap out of my mess of blankets on the couch.
I will hold strong.
I won’t relapse.
I can handle this level of stress.
That’s what I’m telling myself, but my inner devil’s voice is louder.
You can’t handle this. One cut. One drink. One meltdown.