It was my pills he took. I've not told you this, but I take antidepressants. I have done ever since the mess with James. It's just something I don't talk to anyone about. They were in the bathroom, and he found them.
That still isn't your fault, Mark. You had no way of knowing that he'd take them like that. You probably didn't even think about it. I'll be home tonight, though.
I don't think that's the case, but even if it was, you can't change that part now. Placing blame for why he's sick isn't going to help him get better. And that's what's important now... Making sure he gets better, whatever it takes to help him.
Sam's here. We got home a little while ago. Justin hates the hospital so much, I didn't want him to stay, so Sammy pulled some strings. Listen, it's not so black and white. Justin had this... epic anger explosion before it all happened. Like, really bad.
That I didn't really want him, that you were only still here because you wanted sex, that everyone really hated him, that he was gross and ugly and no one wanted to tell him the truth because they were gutless. That his friends weren't really his friends, that he should never have been born, that his mum was right when she said he was an mistake. Among other things.
Fuck. Poor kid really believed it, too, didn't he? Goddammit. I really hope they get his meds regulated in a way that will help him stay calm and not think that way. He seemed to be doing so much better, too.
I've never dealt with anything like this before... I wish I knew some way to help him that was better than what it has been so far. I can't imagine feeling that way and having an illness that made me believe with all my heart that it was all true. I mean, I have bad days where I think bad shit, but it's never like that... Where I can't see anything but the lie in front of my face.
That's the thing. It's not a lie. When you think about the things he said, it's all fuelled from stuff he's faced that's probably stuck in his head. When he has these... depressive whatever the fuck the doctors call them, it all amplifies.
But it's not really the truth, either... Because we do want him here, and want him to be part of our lives. And his friends don't all hate him, either. But no matter how you look at it, when it hits him, he believes it, and we have to do something to help.
Babe... Now you're worrying me, too. You don't fuck everything up, but you're starting to sort of sound a bit like Justin, too. You're a good dad. You love your kids, and they love you, even when they're just learning how.
Yeah, well, when your son overdoses on your meds, it means you have to go without. I'm sorry. I have the biggest headache and I feel sick, and my brain won't switch off trying to figure all this out so I can stop him getting hurt again. And I want a drink. I really, really want a drink.
How soon can they get you a refill? You have to promise to at least try to rest for me, okay? I love you, and I'll be home really soon, so please hold off on that drink.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject