I want you to be crazy
April was over. There probably weren't enough ways for Livvie to make anyone else understand how glad she was, how surprised she was, that she survived another April.
She hated, hates, will always hate April.
But with May comes new problems, new things to deal with. Most things were good; Dib was good. College classes, more music. Those were good. Living somewhere that she didnt have to worry about rent, or how to get back and forth, those were good.
Living alone wasn't as good. Livvie had never quite gotten accustomed to the way silence bounces across the walls of an empty building.
Knowing it would be another month before Judah got out wasn't as good. She worried about him, mostly because she was fairly certain the only other people worrying about him were in Arkham. Namely Harvey. There were moments and days when she didn't doubt he needed to be there but she would rather he was out than in.
Besides, who would really think to tell her if something happened to him? If the aneurysm got worse?
No one. Or so Livvie assumes.
New doctors are mixed bags. Livvie was able to leave her old one, at least, since he was a therapist specializing in minors who were in the state system. But there were notations, worries that Miss McKenzie was becoming too dependent on her medication.
Miss McKenzie had to stop herself from laughing out loud when it was brought up. Worries that she might be becoming too dependent on her medication didn't actually equate lowering her dosage. Or changing anything about her medication. It, apparently, simply involved letting her know that they were concerned. That it was a possibility.
No, Livvie was fairly certain it was a reality.
There were days when she had small overdoses. Days when Dib was working or busy and she was bored, or just not paying enough attention. Too much caffeine, too many painkillers, too much tea, and suddenly up was down and everything was as confusing as she thought it was supposed to be.
That, more than anything else, was something that she wasn't sure she wanted to give up. Altering reality, for herself, when things were too much or too little. Kind of Alice in Wonderland, she thought, in her head. Drink Me! Get bigger, smaller.
It wasn't like she wasn't careful. She knew the risks, knew that Dib wasn't exactly thrilled with the amount of medication she took in the first place, knew that she was possibly causing damage for later. Sometimes, though, she just didn't care. She was already damaged, maybe it didn't matter. Maybe it did.
Maybe.
Beyond that, her dependency and her reasons for letting it get that bad, Livvie wasn't sure how to detox herself. How safe it would be, by herself. She wanted to ask Judah, but didn't. She wanted to ask Dib, but couldn't.
Who else was there?
Therein lay the problem.
She hated, hates, will always hate April.
But with May comes new problems, new things to deal with. Most things were good; Dib was good. College classes, more music. Those were good. Living somewhere that she didnt have to worry about rent, or how to get back and forth, those were good.
Living alone wasn't as good. Livvie had never quite gotten accustomed to the way silence bounces across the walls of an empty building.
Knowing it would be another month before Judah got out wasn't as good. She worried about him, mostly because she was fairly certain the only other people worrying about him were in Arkham. Namely Harvey. There were moments and days when she didn't doubt he needed to be there but she would rather he was out than in.
Besides, who would really think to tell her if something happened to him? If the aneurysm got worse?
No one. Or so Livvie assumes.
New doctors are mixed bags. Livvie was able to leave her old one, at least, since he was a therapist specializing in minors who were in the state system. But there were notations, worries that Miss McKenzie was becoming too dependent on her medication.
Miss McKenzie had to stop herself from laughing out loud when it was brought up. Worries that she might be becoming too dependent on her medication didn't actually equate lowering her dosage. Or changing anything about her medication. It, apparently, simply involved letting her know that they were concerned. That it was a possibility.
No, Livvie was fairly certain it was a reality.
There were days when she had small overdoses. Days when Dib was working or busy and she was bored, or just not paying enough attention. Too much caffeine, too many painkillers, too much tea, and suddenly up was down and everything was as confusing as she thought it was supposed to be.
That, more than anything else, was something that she wasn't sure she wanted to give up. Altering reality, for herself, when things were too much or too little. Kind of Alice in Wonderland, she thought, in her head. Drink Me! Get bigger, smaller.
It wasn't like she wasn't careful. She knew the risks, knew that Dib wasn't exactly thrilled with the amount of medication she took in the first place, knew that she was possibly causing damage for later. Sometimes, though, she just didn't care. She was already damaged, maybe it didn't matter. Maybe it did.
Maybe.
Beyond that, her dependency and her reasons for letting it get that bad, Livvie wasn't sure how to detox herself. How safe it would be, by herself. She wanted to ask Judah, but didn't. She wanted to ask Dib, but couldn't.
Who else was there?
Therein lay the problem.