Page 61 of This Side of Beautiful

“Hey, I’m on the bus headed to Charlotte.”

“My assistant said you called a couple of times over the weekend. Is everything okay?”

“Yes and no. Still sober. We smashed New Orleans and Atlanta. I spoke at an ASMI fundraiser and announced my bipolar diagnosis. Landon and I have decided to date, and I reached out to my brother.”

“All sounds amazing, and when we have our regular session, I want to hear all the details. So, what’s the emergency?”

“That’s the point. My life is going well, yet the lows are too low. When I perform, I seem to be fine. It’s when I’m not on the stage that I stress. A couple of days after you and I spoke when I was in New Orleans, I started a fight with Landon because I didn’t like what he said about me, which was only the truth, and I cut my thigh.” I looked toward the back of the tour bus to make sure no one could hear me. Santiago and Jeri were still watching TV. Cedrick was on the phone. Landon, Charles, and Brian were taking a nap. Frankie read a book. “The moment I did it, I remembered how wrong it was and came to the realization that I wanted to truly heal. First by being honest with everyone about my struggles, then I wanted to know if I can pay you more to be more accessible to me. Whatever you want to charge.”

“We’ve already discussed this. I have other patients, and I have a life outside of work. No.” She paused. “Maybe you need to reconsider meds, Janae. I’ll get Dr. Brownson to follow up with you by tomorrow so you can find a lab somewhere and have the results sent to her. She’ll give you the rest of the instructions.” Dr. Brownson was the psychiatrist who was a part of my treatment team with Dr. K.

I groaned. “If I ever get back on meds, it won’t be lithium. I hate needles.” Lithium required that I get bloodwork done every three months because too much of the prescription med in my system could cause severe symptoms.

“I know. Maybe you can speak with Dr. Brownson about other options for your mood.”

“I have already, which is why I need more sessions with you.” I hated the whine in my voice. I’d tried other meds, and lithium, even with its faults, seemed to stabilize my moods the most, but it also dried out my mouth and hampered my sex drive.

“You sure this isn’t an impulsive move on your part? You’ve been on meds before, and you weren’t irritable or self-destructive. With all the pressure, it might be just too hard for your brain to handle. Maybe talk with Dr. Brownson about a lower dose and see how you feel.”

The greenery and cars speeding past on the highway suddenly seemed blurry as I quietly admitted, “I’ve been wondering if this tour is too much, too soon. It’s not just about the expectations to be great every performance or to be nice to the fans even when you don’t give a fuck. It’s also about navigating new relationships with others. I went from being alone most days for three years to a group of different personalities every day. For the most part, we get along. I’m trying to hide my moods, my irritability, and the fact that I can’t sleep most nights. I’m exhausted. Then there’s Landon, who picked up on everything I tried to hide. Don’t get me wrong, he’s crazy about me, already supportive, and accepts that I have bipolar.”

“Is he why you don’t want to get back on meds?”

“I’ve managed for six months without meds, and he likes me as I am.” I gripped the phone.

A heavy silence anchored us.

I glanced behind me, but Landon was still sleeping in his bunk on the bus.

Dr. K cleared her throat. “You just met him. He doesn’t know how bad it can get, Janae.”

“Well, maybe it won’t get that bad again, or if it does, he can be there for me,” I insisted stubbornly. “He has his own issues, and he gets me more than any other person ever has.”

“What issues does he have?”

I glanced over my shoulder again. “He has anxiety and probably OCD because he’s kind of rigid and uncomfortable around everyone except the band and me. Of course, that’s me diagnosing him. I don’t know if he has a proper diagnosis or has been in treatment. He could be just stuck in his ways, since he’s an only child and grew up with money.”

“Janae, please be aware that you could be trauma bonding with him, and that type of relationship isn’t healthy.” Dr. K’s sharp tone grated my nerves. “More importantly, don’t forget that love can feel like a drug. You might be trading one addiction for another.”

Blinking back frustrated and angry tears, I retorted, “Umm… I think I need to find another psychologist. One who doesn’t judge me for simply wanting to be happy.”

“Janae, that’s not what I’m trying to—” she started.

“I appreciate everything you ever did for me. Goodbye.” I hung up before my wayward tongue took over and lashed out at a woman I still respected.

Tucking one leg under the other, I shifted on the cushioned seat and allowed my head to fall against the window. Regret and indignation tied for first place. I needed a safe space, and Dr. K had offered me that for three years. But if she couldn’t help guide me in my treatment without meds or give me support for the type of love I’d always wanted, then we had run our course as patient and doctor. Maybe it really was time for me to use what she had taught me over the years and strike out on my own.

When I looked toward the back of the bus, Landon was awake and had his guitar in his hand. I’d learned that whenever he pulled it out around us, it was always fun. He would play something, and we would have to guess the song. Landon smiled at me as he started strumming.

Maybe he would be my safe space, since he was already my life jacket.

I did a little twirl and danced to the back, doing what I’d done forever, feigning happiness. Sometimes I could trick my sad mood into having a good day, and other times I couldn’t.

I grabbed a large plastic bag from the kitchenette area. “I have gourmet popcorn.”

They all yelled their approval like big kids and held their hands out to catch the bags of popcorn I threw while we all gathered around Landon, whose smile grew when I winked at him.

Today would be a good day.

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