"Hey, Momma." I whispered when I finally came to. My Mom was standing next to me, nervously chewing her lip. I looked around anxiously for my Dad and was surprised when he wasn't standing right behind her. He never let her out of his sight if he could help it. "Where's Dad?"

           "He's not coming. He decided to go back to Grandma's for a few days." She said flatly.

            My heart sank. She was lying. My Dad didn't go see my Grandma. He just didn't want to see me. There was nothing inside me to numb the pain. I was the black sheep, the embarrassment. I was the dirty little family secret that needed to be kept locked away in the attic.

           "I'm sorry, Momma. I didn't mean to hurt you." I said with tears rolling down my cheeks. I didn't want to be this way. I just wanted to be normal, like everyone else. I tried to be better, but I was so tired of fighting this.

          "I know, Sweet Pea. I spoke with Dr. Schroder a little bit ago before you woke up. He thinks your symptoms are getting worse. This last episode was bad, Jess." She hugged herself. I could tell she felt lost without my Dad standing behind her. She could be such a strong, confident woman most days, but sometimes I felt like she was fighting with things just as much as I was. She was suffering because of me and I couldn't ever stop. Even in my lucidity, I was impossible to deal with.

          There was a sheepish knock at the door. When I looked up, Uncle Aiden was standing in the doorway holding a drink carrier with some to-go coffee cups.

          "Hey, Uncle Aiden." I whispered.

           He walked over to my bed and sat the drink carrier down on the table so he could lean down to kiss my forehead. His short beard tickled against my skin and I laughed a little at the nostalgia I felt in the sweet gesture. Tea parties and Princesses. I don't know why I always thought about those two things around Uncle Aiden, but it was oddly comforting.

         "There's my favorite girl." He squeezed me.

           Uncle Aiden walked over to my Mom and wrapped himself around her tightly. She began balling her eyes out the second he hugged her. I felt like I was missing something. I know everyone was worried about me, but it seemed like something much deeper was going on. I had a suspicion she wasn't just crying over me. She wouldn't have shed tears like this for me. My brother or my Dad could raise this kind of reaction out of her, but not me. I was not worth it.

          "Can I go home now?" I asked quietly. I wasn't sure if I wanted the answer. She had already kicked me out; being told I couldn't go home again would end me. I was on the way down, which meant I was going to be catatonic here soon. The clarity was always fleeting; it passed through like a sharp gust of wind bringing in the storm clouds.

           "You can once you agree to take your meds again. It's either that or we will admit you involuntarily like before." A husky voice called from the doorway.

           Dr. Theodore Eugene Schroeder. My prison warden.

          "I am taking them." I lied.

          "Yeah, not so much." He said, calling me on my crap. "You haven't refilled them for three months. Don't forget I can check on these things. I've seen it all, Jessa. It would be good if you start to remember that."

           "Well, I was going to get them, but I never got around to it." I pushed my hair off my face and my fingers got caught in one of my unruly tangles. I sat struggling with the tangle and decided to just yank it, breaking off some hair in the process.

           "Jessa Miller, you are the second biggest pain in my ass." Dr. Schroeder walked over, flipping through my chart.

           "Who's the first?" I asked, surprised I wasn't at the top of his list.

           "Your Father." He said, chuckling.

             I looked at him curiously. When did my Dad talk to him? As far as I knew, my Mom was always the one who handled the interactions and appointments about my condition. My Dad had stayed a silent observer in most of the counseling sessions we had as a family. I don't think the two men had ever even had a conversation together. Were they having secret meetings about me without telling me?

            My Mom and Uncle Aiden exchanged glances. They didn't think I noticed. It was so small it was almost imperceptible. What happened? What weren't they telling me?

            "Jessa, assuming you are willing to comply and somebody is willing to keep an eye on you until your body adjusts, I will sign off one more time on the outpatient program. I will update your prescriptions and you need to begin them immediately. One slip up will result in readmittance into the inpatient program. Do you understand me?"

              "I don't have to go back?" Tears filled my eyes as I looked between the three adults in the room, staring at me. I hardly believed what I was hearing.

              "Only if you agree to those terms." Dr. Schroeder tilted his head waiting for my answer.

               "Yes! I will do anything to go home!" I said to my Mom. She frowned at me. She had heard this too many times before. I had lied to her so much that she would never believe me again.

               Dr. Schroeder, my Mom, and my Uncle left the room to discuss the details of my release after a few more little comments about my sanity, sobriety, and accountability for my actions. I couldn't hear anything they were saying. I was too busy focusing on my Mom's face. She could never hide her emotions and now was not any different. I wanted to see her beautiful smile spread across it, the one that said she still loved me. Instead, the only things I could fixate on were the small worry lines that were creasing her face and the little purple marks where my fingers wrapped around her throat. She didn't look happy about me coming home again.

               They left me alone in the room with nothing but my self-destructive thoughts. Everything I went through with my condition was cyclical, I would do things when I was up without thinking about the consequences, and then when I came back down to Earth, reality would set back in. I would hide away from the world as I relived every bad decision, every misstep, and every little moment where I was not good enough. I would roll through each memory, starting with the few I had left from my childhood until I reached the new ones where Nathan and his friends would rub my face in the dirt.

               I laid my head back on my pillow and cried. I cried for my family and the things I had done to them. I cried for how I treated my best friend when he was just trying to help me. I cried for the drugs and alcohol my body was craving. Most of all, I cried for the girl who didn't really care enough about herself to even try.