Page 98 of The Golden Boy's Guide to Bipolar
“Huh?” Moni asks, and Abuela raises an eyebrow.
“You said your dad pays doctors off to brainwash their patients. Is that a thing here too?”
Her eyes widen a bit. “Shit, did you go off your meds because of me?”
“I was already off them,” I admit, making a point not to look at Abuela’s probably disappointed face. “But why would I go back on them if they’re brainwashing me?”
“I never said they were for brainwashing!” Moni sounds a littlefrantic. Not really used to her like that. “It’s true that some drug companies pay some doctors to prescribe their preferred medication, but I wasn’t trying to implyyourdoctor was being paid off or anything.”
“Well, how can I trustanydoctor if that’s a thing? Don’t act like I’m being paranoid if that’s something that actually happens!” I ball my fists to stop my hands from shaking in anger. This isn’t me being crazy. Shetoldme that happens!
Abuela nods, and I almost think she’s about to agree with me, until she doesn’t. “Mijo, there’s nothing wrong with having these kinds of worries, but it’s good to voice them out loud instead of holding them in. That way you can take a step toward finding the truth instead of just being afraid.”
Moni nods quickly. “We can find out right now actually! It’s publicly accessible information which doctors are taking money from drug companies.” She pulls out her phone and starts typing. “What’s your therapist’s name again?”
“Uh, Dr. Lee... I think her first name’s Jen.”
She types for a second before showing me her screen with Dr. Lee’s name and the office address. “Is this the right place?”
I nod, scanning the page. There are different types of payments listed, like research payments and investment interest. I don’t know what any of them mean, but I can relax knowing there’s a big N/A next to each and every type.
Somehow, I’m both relieved and incredibly embarrassed. “I guess I really am crazy, huh?”
Abuela frowns. “Mijo, there’s nothing crazy about asking questions. It’s almost impossible to find the truth without speaking your fears out loud. Sometimes being perceived as ‘crazy’ is thescariest thing, so saying what you’re afraid of feels harder than giving in to the paranoia. But I promise it’s worth it.”
“And tell me next time I say something that freaks you out like that, okay? I can’t help you logic out of it unless I know what you’re thinking,” Moni says. “Sometimes I forget people can’t see everything in my brain, so I don’t always explain myself like I should.”
“Okay,” I say tentatively. I guess I can try saying things out loud. Maybe not to everyone, but at least I know Abuela will understand. I don’t know if every fear I have can just be logic-ed away, but at least this one could. Maybe that’s a start.
Day Three: Activity Time
Instead of getting to go outside with the other patients, I’m escorted to an activity room during free time. When the door opens, I’m met with my usual group therapy crowd, including Dr. Lee and even Nia.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask.
“Avery told us you were in here, so we asked Dr. Lee if we could get special permission to have group here instead of at the office today,” Zo says with a smile.
“Oh...” I don’t know what else to say. If this had happened a week ago, I would have turned around and run away. I would have been pissed at Avery for telling anyone about where I am. Today is different, though. Today, I walk over to the empty seat in the circle and sit down. Maybe I am making progress.
I can’t help but notice everyone’s staring at me when I sit down, though. I wish I could hide the fact that I’m struggling so hard,but the bruises are literally all over my face, not to mention where we are.
“You guys were on the news,” Nia says bluntly, looking back and forth from me to Avery, who is also sporting a pretty gnarly black eye. “Apparently those guys are waiting for their hearing in juvie, so you should be safe from them now.”
“And if they try to fuck with you again, we’ll handle ’em,” Aaron adds, puffing out his chin like he’s trying to look tough.
“You okay, though?” Zo asks, and I bite my lip, resisting the urge to brush it off and say I’m fine. How hard could it be to admit I’m not okay? When I’m here, of all places? “It’s okay to ask for help,” they say, like they’re reading my mind.
“We’re here for you, bro,” Avery adds with a reassuring nod.
But when I try to speak, I get all choked up. They know I’m not okay. I just need to admit it out loud. That’s the first step, right? I lean forward and cover my face with my hands again. Maybe if I can’t see them staring at me it’ll be easier?
“I need help!” I whimper through my hands.
“Asking for help is an important first step,” Dr. Lee confirms. “I’m proud of you.”
Zo starts rubbing my back from their seat next to me. “How can we help you?” they ask.
“I think... ,” I start, mulling it over. “I think I need to switch medication. I’ve been back on my meds since I got in here, but I don’t feel like it’s doing anything.” After I say it, I feel a huge weight off my chest. “But I’m afraid to switch and have bad side effects or go on meds that make me like a zombie.” I figure now is as good a time as any to implement the say-your-fears-out-loud advice.
