She stared down at the pill bottle, her blue eyes blank. She studied the label on the prescription: Watson, Ellen. Fluoxetine. To be taken once in the morning and once at night. She looked up into the mirror. At her gaunt, pale face. She looked awful, nothing could convince her otherwise. Everything seemed to be spinning out of control, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to put her life back together. She realized now, she hadn't ever put her life back together. She had merely patched herself up. But it wasn't enough to keep herself from hurting. Oh how she hurt. Every part of her hurt, but at the same time, she felt nothing.
A shaky breath escaped her lips. Nothing was going right. She had lost so much, too much, and now she felt like she was beginning to lose herself. Ellen had always been different. She knew that. High School had been tough for her because she didn't fit in anywhere. And then when she came home, all she ever wanted was her mother's love and attention. Instead, she always came home to the wall of ice that was Alyssa Watson. She knew her mother loved her in her own way, but it was never enough. She envied other girls who had mothers who actually felt something. She promised herself she'd never be that kind of parent. But she was. Godammit, she was.
She had tried so desperately to be a good mom. Someone her children could come to if they needed to talk. A soft place to land. A place to hide should life get too unbearable. She had tried so desperately hard. So, so, so hard. Victoria was her first. The first years were not so difficult. She was her beautiful daughter, and she never thought of her as less than that. But her husband never thought of her as anything more than a dependent he had to write on his taxes. Then he ripped their daughter away from her and along with that, any chance she had at becoming maternal God, Ellen hated him for that. By the time she had Marcus and Natalie, she was disinterested in being a mother. And Gabriel was cold hearted. Looking at the three of them, she knew she had failed. Marcus wanted to kill himself, Victoria had developed her father's disease, and Natalie was too eager to please.
When she found out she was pregnant with Lawson's baby, she thought God was giving her a second chance at being a mother. But she had been such an incredible fool. God hadn't given her a second chance at being a mother, he was punishing her for being an absolute pathetic excuse for a woman. She was so useless, she couldn't even keep it alive. Her body physically rejected it, and it very nearly killed her. It wasn't fair, but when was life ever fair?
She turned the water on in the bathroom. Gently, she placed her hands in the ice cold stream and splashed her face. The sparkle of her engagement ring caught her eye. She had removed it for now. They weren't happy with each other right now anyways. She knew there was a possibility they'd end, and she didn't want to fool herself, or to give herself false hope. It was her fault. She couldn't just trust him. She wanted to, but she couldn't. Not after Gabriel. She was so petrified of being hurt again. It was debilitating, really. The day she caught him cheating on her had easily been the worst day of her life. For every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month of every year that she had been married to him, she had been faithful. Hell, he had been the only man she had ever been with. Yet he had taken to the beds of other women when things began getting tough in their marriage. She knew in her gut that Lawson was different, but she still couldn't trust him. And again, it all came down to her. It was her body that rejected their baby. Her trust issues that destroyed their relationship. Her lack of affection that drove Gabriel to cheat. Her maternal deficiency that screwed her children up.
She placed one of the green and yellow pills in her mouth and swallowed. She abhorred being on medication. Most days she felt it didn't help at all. Actually, it made her feel worse. She hadn't eaten a full meal in months, she had constant headaches, and spent the majority of her days laying in bed. She put the bottle down and stepped back. She felt a sob push its way from her mouth. She covered her mouth as tears began to roll down her face. "I hate myself," she said to herself. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably as she reached for the pill bottle again. She stared at that same label: Watson, Ellen. Fluoxetine. To be taken once in the morning and once at night. Was she really going to do this? could she really do this? She uncapped the bottle, her hands still shaking. She poured the contents of the bottle onto her hand. She stood there, grasping the tiny pills. She hated herself right now, for even thinking about doing this. It was selfish, she knew it was selfish. She'd be leaving behind three children and a man who loved her. But that was one of the reasons why she had to. They were all better off without her. So instead of thinking on it any more, she put the handful of pills into her mouth and swallowed.
Post by LAWSON RAYNARD ANDREWS on Jul 12, 2014 15:10:43 GMT -5
look at the mess that we've made
we pick ourselves undone
He loved her. His willingness to sleep on the couch for the past however many months should have proved that to her. But they were stuck in a rut and Lawson was getting tired of wondering when they'd get out of it. It seemed like Ellen still hadn't realized that her miscarriage was not her fault. Now Gabriel had died and Lawson knew Ellen still felt like an awful person for feeling relief. Lawson had gone to therapy so he knew there was nothing wrong in feeling relief along with the grief he experienced. He grieved for the lost chance at possibly mending things, although Lawson knew that chance had been very, very slim. He grieved for the loss of the brother he once knew and loved, even though he'd grieved over that loss in the beginning of high school when they began to drift apart and become strangers.
And of course he still grieved over the loss of the child he and Ellen might have had. But he did not blame Ellen for that and he wanted her to truly believe him. All he did was try to show her that he was trustworthy. He was not his brother; he was himself, and that didn't include untrustworthiness. The anxiety in the house was palpable everyday and Lawson was constantly worried that the engagement would be called off. Ellen had seemed so happy, almost relieved, when he'd proposed to her. Now she'd retreated back into the shell of the woman he'd found her in one year ago at the park. Had it really only been one year since they'd reconnected? It had to have been longer than that- it sure felt like it was longer. He still remembered that day with a smile. Sometimes Ellen caught him smiling at random times and whenever she'd ask about it, Lawson would explain as he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close to him.
But that seemed like a lifetime ago. He hadn't truly hugged Ellen in what felt like ages and he ached for her. Was she aching for him? Sometimes it felt like she truly hated him but he told himself that if that were the case she'd have kicked him out by now. He hoped he was right; he liked to think he knew Ellen by now even though they'd only been together for a year or so. When you loved someone deeply and thoroughly, weren't you able to read her? Possibly know the person better than she knew herself? That was a question he'd save for the therapist. The one that he thought Ellen would agree to see, but so far that topic was still very sensitive.
Despite everything, Lawson still tried to hold it together for Marcus and Natalie. He would be lying if he said it wasn't hard. Marcus looked so much like Gabriel and Natalie looked so much like Ellen. He'd stopped speaking to Victoria because he was tired of her drinking. It had been truly difficult, especially since Victoria had been the only one to truly accept him as Ellen's boyfriend. Marcus was starting to come around, thankfully, but Natalie was always hard to read.
He came home from work and opened the door, closing it with a sigh. He put his briefcase on the counter and looked around. The house was empty and unwelcoming; definitely not cozy like it once was. He seemed to lose all motivation when he walked through the door. The temptation to convince Ellen to move was hard to ignore; Lawson believed they needed a new sight. A change might do them some good. Their work was at the school and it was good work, so they didn't have to leave the state. But maybe just moving to a new neighborhood, -heck, Lawson would even settle for just a new house in the same neighborhood- would be all the change they needed. Yeah, that actually sounded perfect. Too much change would throw them off, wouldn't it?
His eyes lit up as he felt a fire start inside him and he called for Ellen. No response. He frowned. She was definitely home- her car was in the driveway. "Ellen?" He called again. Nothing. He walked around the downstairs and checked every room as he spoke. "I know we haven't been talking much but I have an idea that I think you'll like. Ellen. Ellen?" He sing-sung her name a few times. The feeling that something was wrong seemed to smack him in the face. Ellen would have told him to shut up by now if she'd heard him, right? Even if she was trying to ignore him she'd have gotten sick of his happy-go-lucky attitude change. "Ellen!?" He took the stairs two at a time and checked the rooms. Nothing. He remembered the bathroom and ran in, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of Ellen unconscious. "Ellen!" He practically dove over to her, ignoring the tile smacking knees, and pulled her up towards him. He called her name again and tried shaking her slightly, but it was no use. She was out cold. Panic gripped his chest and twisted his heart as he wondered what could have happened. He noticed an empty pill bottle hanging over the edge of the sink and he felt his heart drop to his stomach. "No…" He whispered in disbelief. "No!" This would not happen.
He struggled to get the cellphone out of his pocket and it fell to the floor. Lawson prayed it wasn't broken and he breathed a sigh of relief when the phone looked okay. He dialed 911 as fast as his fingers would allow and it was agony to wait for an answer. He leaned against the wall and held Ellen against his chest with his free arm. "911. What is your emergency?" "My wife overdosed and she's unconscious," Lawson replied quickly. It had taken everything in him to not talk over the operator. "Okay sir, do you know what she took?" Lawson grabbed the bottle and read the label. "And is she breathing?" Lawson looked closely at Ellen's chest and saw that it was barely moving. "Just barely," he said, voice quivering. He answered other questions about how much Ellen weighed, her height, age, the address, etc. It all seemed a blur to him as he tried to remain calm. The operator told him she would stay on the line until help arrived and Lawson thanked her. He put her on speaker and set the phone down on the floor next to him and held Ellen with both arms. "Please, Ellen, please be okay. Don't leave me, please." He pleaded softly, tears falling from his eyes.
In that long, frozen moment, memories of their life spent together moved like pictures in Lawson's mind. After that came the images of their future; what could have been. What will be. Ellen couldn't die. She just couldn't. Lawson would not be able to live without her. He'd tried once, and he never wanted to do it again.
She lost consciousness a few minutes after the pills had been swallowed. She almost regretted doing it, and feared what would happen if she did happen to die. But she wasn't going to dwell on it. Well, she couldn't dwell on it because everything eventually went black. It was almost like falling asleep. She was out of it for what felt like a long time. Consumed by total darkness. Some people who survived overdosing posted stories of epiphanies that happened while they were unconscious. Ellen did not experience any of that, but she was half expecting it. When she read those stories, she always thought they were complete and utter bullshit.
She lifted out of the blackness for a few seconds, her glassy blue eyes looking up at Lawson who was holding onto her. She gasped for breath. "L-Lawson?" she whispered before falling back into unconsciousness. She came out of the fog a few times. By the time the paramedics got there, she was completely out of it. She remained unconscious for hours. The doctors worked viscously, trying to keep her stable. Eventually, there was nothing more they could do for her. Only time would tell. As the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes into yet more hours, the doctor assigned to her emerged from the room. He walked over to Lawson and held out his hand. "Mr. Andrews, correct?" the man said. "My name is Dr. Phillips, and I'm assigned to Ms. Watson," he said, leading the man over to a chair. "We're doing everything we can, I promise you that," the doctor said, maintaining eye contact with Lawson. "Now, Fluoxetine, Prozac in particular, usually does minimal damage to the body," he said. "However, Ms. Watson has taken quite a bit of it, and her vital signs have decreased," he said, his voice somber. "There is also the fact she is horribly underweight which does not play in her favor. Has Ms. Watson been eating regularly? I am aware anorexia can be a side effect of Prozac," he said.
After the doctor finished questioning Lawson about a few things, the nurse came running from the room. "Dr. Phillips, Mr. Andrews," she said, a huge smile on her face. "She's stable and there's brain activity. She's conscious but not talking. We've saved her," the nurse said. Ellen sat in the hospital room, staring outside. It hadn't worked. She was still breathing. Still alive. A part of her was relieved, but she wasn't going to admit to that. She was still in so much pain and wanted out of this life. She heard footsteps approach the room. She blinked a few times but refused to speak, even when the doctor asked her questions. Instead, she responded to questions by nodding or shaking her head. Soon the nurses and doctors were all gone, and she was left alone with Lawson. She was bracing herself for the many questions she was certain he'd ask. "Please don't lecture me," she said before he could say anything. Her voice was weak, but that was surprising. Her whole body felt weak.
Post by LAWSON RAYNARD ANDREWS on Jul 16, 2014 16:58:22 GMT -5
look at the mess that we've made
we pick ourselves undone
When Ellen's eyes opened Lawson didn't know what to do. He didn't want to make things worse so he told the operator what was happening. "That's typical of overdose cases, sir. Just continue to keep her stable until the paramedics arrive." She'd told him calmly. Lawson looked back over at Ellen and saw that she was out again. He'd regretted not saying something to her when she was awake so he could only hope she heard him whisper "I'm here" to her. As much as Lawson didn't want to leave Ellen, he knew it was better that she was now with the medics. Unfortunately he'd been in situations that required paramedics before (especially the one when Ellen had miscarried) so he understood that he'd only be in the way. All he could do now was pray, and that's the only thing he did during the ride to the hospital and in the waiting room. He debated calling her family but he decided that they didn't need another scare just yet. So he sat down in a chair and tried to think of something, anything. His mind was blank and the only emotions he felt at the moment was something similar to numbness. It was most likely shock, and he was scared and upset, but for some reason he couldn't cry. Maybe because he felt like he needed to be strong for Ellen -again- or maybe because this was the second time they had been through something like this and he just wasn't sure what to do anymore. Besides, Ellen had survived the last time, so Lawson held out hope that she would survive this time, too. It went without saying that he couldn't live without her. Finally the doctor came to talk to him and he shook the man's hand before sitting down.
He focused all of his attention on the doctor's words and wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or not about the Fluoxetine. Ellen had taken the whole bottle and that was never good. Now the doctor was talking about Ellen's vitals. They didn't sound good. Lawson paused before answering the doctor's question. "Honestly Dr. Phillips, I can't say for certain whether Ellen has been eating much or not. We live together but we've hardly seen each other the past few months. But I did notice she'd seemed to lose weight." He felt horribly for not noticing it earlier and not saying anything about it. But he knew she'd have probably snapped at him and wouldn't tell him anything, anyway. "But knowing her, she probably hasn't." He answered the other questions and his eyes lit up at the nurse's words. He stood up immediately, thanked the doctor and nurse, and practically ran to Ellen's room. He slowed down when he got to the door and he just stood there watching her for awhile. His hopeful expression turned into a frown when she didn't speak to him or the doctor. Was something wrong or was she just being difficult?
Ah. She was just being difficult. Why? Lawson pursed his lips and walked over to the window, looking down at the cars as he tried to gather his thoughts. His temples began throbbing. Ellen's command had been weak but he knew she probably felt a lot of strength and conviction behind it. "You think everything is a lecture with me, don't you?" He still hadn't looked at her. "You haven't even looked at me once since I've been here." Now he turned to face her. He was hurt, yes, but right now it was mostly coming out in frustration. "I wasn't going to lecture you, anyway. That's the last thing you need, and anything I tell you would just go in one ear and out the other. Like the other things I've said obviously have." Like how he'd begged her not to take her own life. He was mad at her right now for being so selfish, and a small part of him was afraid she'd killed herself because she didn't want to deal with him anymore; or anyone in her family. He knew she loved her children, but people did crazy things when they were desperate.
"So what's gonna happen now? Are just going to wait until you can go home and then pretend like none of this even happened?" Or maybe Ellen could sue the hospital for saving her life. But he kept that bitter, fleeting thought to himself; he'd felt bad the moment it entered his mind. "Part of me, most of me, actually, had thought it was an accident. Naive, I know, since who could accidentally swallow a whole bottle of pills? But your little comment about a lecture made me realize you'd done it on purpose. But fine, we don't have to talk about it. I've learned now that talking about things only makes them worse." His sarcasm was coming out so nonchalantly that even Lawson himself wondered if he was being serious or not. He looked around the room and sat down, resting the ankle of his left leg on the knee of his right one and resting his folding hands in his lap.
The doctor frowned at Lawson's words. "Mr. Andrews, she's lost twenty pounds," he said. "She's only been on the Prozac for a short amount of time, if she doesn't start eating properly, her body system will slowly begin to shut down," he said, concern in his voice. "It's not my job to talk to you about your personal life. I'm a doctor, not a psychiatrist, but I am concerned. She's clearly not well," he said, a grim look on his face. "Make sure she eats," he said, emphasizing each word. So many thoughts were swimming around in Ellen's mind. How am I supposed to explain this fuck up to Marcus. Oh God, what kind of a mother am I? My mother...Oh no, MY MOTHER, she's gonna.....her thoughts were interrupted when the doctors and nurses came into her room. Soon they were done poking and prodding her and she was left alone with Lawson. She let out a shaky sigh. Her eyes were filled with tears as she listened to Lawson, but she refused to let them fall. She felt like a stupid child. In fact, she was certain this conversation sounded eerily familiar to one she had with her dad after she got herself into trouble once. However, she hadn't attempted to kill herself.
Her clouded blue eyes met his as soon as he pointed out she hadn't looked at him once this entire time. A few tears managed to break free and rolled down her cheeks. Ellen hated herself in this moment. She hated how willing she had been to take her life away. How willing she had been to leave this man behind on the mortal world while she went onto the afterlife. "That's not fair," she said, sounding reminiscent of a whiny child begging their parent not to punish them. Her lip quivered uncontrollably as he continued on. She wanted so desperately to cover her ears and block him out, but she couldn't.
She closed her eyes, allowing a few more tears to break free. "I'm sorry," she said, struggling to get out the words. She was having difficulty keeping herself together. There was nothing she wanted more than to cry like a little child, but she couldn't do that. Not in front of him at least. "I d-d-don't know what I was thinking," she said. "I just didn't want to live like this anymore, in this pathetic shell." She cupped her face in her hands and let out a single sob before looking up. She wiped away her tears and took a shaky breath. "You have no idea how torn up I've been feeling these past few months," she said. "Lawson, I'm half dead. I've been half dead for over ten years now," she said, realizing how pathetic she sounded.
Her grief was slowly turing into anger as he spoke. He sounded apathetic, and it killed her inside. "You don't have any idea..." she trailed off. "Goddammit, Lawson, you have no idea what it feels like to live with 50 years of mistakes. Every single choice I make is bad," she said. "And the single good decision I've made....he hates me right now," she said.
ELLEN ELIZABETH WATSON: That sounds familiar. I used to be that way. I still am, but I've learned to let go a little.
Sept 18, 2013 22:33:39 GMT -5
EMMA GRACE DANVERS (GOODMAN): Alec is too good to me, how did I deserve him. I'm such a perfectionist that I am afraid to screw up
Sept 18, 2013 22:30:10 GMT -5
ELLEN ELIZABETH WATSON: Everyone screws up. I've screwed up so many times I can't even keep track, but you just have to pick yourself up and learn to forgive yourself which can be the hardest thing to do
Sept 18, 2013 22:28:38 GMT -5
EMMA GRACE DANVERS (GOODMAN): Thank you so much Ellen. I know Alec is there to encourage me, but sometimes I feel he's put me on this great mother pedestal. I'm afraid of screwing up.
Sept 18, 2013 22:25:29 GMT -5
ELLEN ELIZABETH WATSON: I wouldn't worry too much Emma. You're very maternal, something I never was, and I managed to do it alone. If you ever need to talk about parenting, I'm always here
Sept 18, 2013 22:10:52 GMT -5
EMMA GRACE DANVERS (GOODMAN): I'm just worried about being a good mother. Since my own mother is no longer here to advice me. I just want to do her proud *nervous look*
Sept 18, 2013 22:09:25 GMT -5
EMMA GRACE DANVERS (GOODMAN): well I think Alec will be worried when it comes to that age. He'll probably buy a shotgun and ward off any boy who comes a courting.
Sept 18, 2013 22:08:32 GMT -5
ELLEN ELIZABETH WATSON: -laughs- you don't have to worry about that for a while. I told Victoria when she was going into sixth grade, but I think it also depends on the child
Sept 18, 2013 22:07:23 GMT -5