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Almost Easy

Chapter Fifty-Three: Freed of the World; Shed of the Weight

We’d made it through 2/3 of our show when it happened. It was enough that I was starting to realize that I wasn’t James Sullivan and I wasn’t invincible. Boy was I ever not invincible.
We’d moved into a cover when the crowd started to shift on me. I was dizzy and felt a lot like I imagine a fish in a bowl might feel. The lights changed and moved around in ways that were impossible. I knew I had to be hallucinating. I’d never felt like this before.
I tried to continue on but my voice seemed to seize up all at once. I couldn’t catch my breath.
I had to sit. So, naturally, I sat myself on one of the speakers and hung my head between my knees.
I couldn’t breathe.
Brian’s guitar distinctively cut out and soon he was with me, lifting my chin to look at him.
“I can’t breathe,” I managed.
His eyes were wide and he looked panicked. This made me panic. He literally threw his guitar to John before slinging me over his shoulder and darting off stage. The crowd was not happy. I could hear their boos all the way down the hall. I didn’t know what was happening.
“What’s going on?” my tech asked Brian hurriedly.
Brian was pulling at my eyelids and trying to speak to me—I had no idea what he was saying. He sounded like adults do in Charlie Brown, you know? Wah-wah...
And then I blacked out.
I was in and out. Every time, Brian was with me. Sometimes he was lingering overtop of me, sometimes I’d have to look around for him. I was having trouble moving my head. We were in a car I think. I was back out.
When I finally woke up, I was panicked. The last thing I’d remembered I was on stage. I was having a great time.
Now I was in a bed with beeping coming from all sides of me, tubes sticking out of me everywhere. An IV was implanted firmly in my left hand.
“Brian?” I managed but it took a lot of work.
He was sitting in a chair, half-asleep. I almost felt bad for waking him. At the sound of my voice, he was jolted awake and was by my side within a half-second.
“Hey,” he said so softly that I wanted to die.
“What happened?” I asked sadly.
He looked absolutely defeated, “You overdosed, Blair.”
I immediately started regretting the binge I’d been on. It had never felt awful like this, not even on the way down. This was painful.
“No,” is all I could manage.
He nodded once, “They had to give you valium to slow your heart rate down. You were at risk of cardiac arrest, Blair.”
I was embarrassed.
“Oh.”
“What is going on with you?” he asked desperately. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“I don’t know…” I trailed off.
“You do know,” he argued, his temper flaring a little. “I need to know.”
My throat hurt. But as Brian looked at me without response, he’d obviously had enough and was headed for the door.
“Brian,” I cried out. “Please don’t go.”
“Then you need to start fucking talking, Blair,” he warned me. “That was easily the scariest experience of my life and I’m not keen to repeat it. So you can either talk to me now or I’m gone. Your choice.”
“Sit down,” I said sadly.
He did, much to my surprise. I guess I had the same hold over him as he did on me. He looked at me expectantly.
I tried to sit up a little but it was difficult. I felt instantly winded.
“I’m struggling,” I said finally. “Like…really struggling.”
He nodded slowly, “With what happened with Dave?”
I looked around the room to avoid looking at him, “Yeah, I guess…and Tyler…and the tour…and my life. I don’t know…”
“I can’t help you if you don’t let me in,” he said lowly.
My eyes found his again and I sighed, “I’m trying.”
“You’re not trying,” he argued. “You’re putting up walls and burying yourself inside them.”
“Tyler left me,” I said abruptly. “He left me and didn’t think twice about what it would do to me. Everything after that has been like some terrible nightmare. He’s not on the tour he was supposed to be on, he didn’t finish the album he had helped to write, he…fuck, he isn’t here for anything,” I paused to catch my breath. “It’s been harder than I thought it would be.”
Brian just listened.
It was the first time in a long time that I was speaking candidly about all the messed up shit brewing deep inside my skull. I’d thought it was better for Brian, better for us, if I’d kept it separate. I didn’t want him to think I was weak. I didn’t want him to know that I was broken.
“And then the Dave thing happened…” I hesitated to continue, feeling Brian tensed up. “It could have been so much worse and I know that. Sometimes I feel like I’m being dramatic about it—”
“You’re not,” Brian reassured me.
“It just…I don’t feel safe anymore,” I started to well up a little. “I don’t feel like I know who I am. I’m really lost. Every time I try to get my shit together, something happens and I end up worse off than before…It’s too much, Brian. I can’t handle it.”
“So you thought drugs might be fun?” he sort of teased.
“No,” I sighed. “Not fun. They helped…a lot. For a few hours every day, I got to feel like somebody else. I got to feel energetic and alive—I don’t feel alive anymore, Brian. I think I used to but I don’t—I’m really messed up.”
He was fiddling with his fingers, he was tense but his temper had relented. I guess all he’d wanted was some honesty from my party. But I should have just given it to him sooner. We were shaky at best.
“I know,” he finally said, looking up at me. “Don’t get me wrong, Blair, I know you’re going through some shit…I can’t even imagine—” he stopped to collect his thoughts, looking beautiful as ever. “I just need you to talk to me. I can’t handle a second Jimmy in my life—he’s stressful enough on his own.”
I wanted to laugh but didn’t. Brian was serious.
“I never want to repeat this,” he told me gravely, gesturing around the room. “I thought you were going to fucking die, Blair. I thought that was it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said truthfully.
He squeezed my hand, “You have to stop.”
I nodded weakly, “I know.”
“Tell me how to help you,” he pleaded with me.
“I honestly don’t know,” I pouted. “I just need time. I need to…figure out what I’m doing. I need to work through what happened, I guess.”
“Any time you need to talk,” he said but didn’t finish.
“I know.”
“Okay,” he said finally, breathing out heavily. “I’ll go find the doctor.”
He was at the door when I decided to speak, feeling helpless and humiliated. I felt like a failure. But for the first time in forever, I felt like fighting back. I could feel it bubbling deep down inside—the desire to live. The desire to push past everything that I’d been put through. I wanted to be resilient again. I wanted to be tough. I needed to be.
“Brian?” I asked, causing him to stop and turn back to face me. “Do you still love me? Even though I’m…a mess?....”
His face jilted, falling with burden, “Of course I still love you.”
“Good,” I said quietly.
“I’ll probably always love you,” he half-smiled. “Assuming you live long enough to let me.”
And then he was gone.
I waited for the doctor, but mostly I was waiting for Brian. For the first time in weeks I was finally seeing him clearly again. I could feel how much I loved him again. It had numbed away with everything else and had started to cause a conflict.
As I waited, I started my mantra.
You’re okay.
I decided then that one overdose was probably enough for a lifetime. So I decided that the second I got out, I was going to get out. I was going to tear down the walls I’d been building. I was going to work through my mess—reorganizing and restructuring as I went.
I decided I was going to fight to get back to who I’d always been. If I couldn’t fight for myself, I sure as shit was going to fight for Brian. Maybe I wasn’t always worth fighting for…but he was.

Notes

Comments

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RamonaFoREVer RamonaFoREVer
6/18/19

@LostinDreams77
Oh!!! I'm so glad!!! <33

fyction fyction
5/13/19

Only on chapter 6 but I bloody love it already lol

LostinDreams77 LostinDreams77
5/13/19

@kiss my sas
Omg!!! Lol

fyction fyction
3/27/19

Ok, time for a re read on this one now :D
Baby Blair, come at me!!!

kiss my sas kiss my sas
3/27/19