mmmh-Hot-Sauce: Thanks for the feedback. I didn't mean to make her friends seem like jerks, I wanted to show that they cared and were looking out for her. I guess I've made them too abrasive. I need to work on that character development. I really enjoyed the rest of the story from which you'd left us the teaser. Thanks for the feedback.
Northernlass: I didn't intend to make Willow seem that emotional fragile. I thought one day of running away and 'licking her wounds" was rational. Her new girlfriend kissed an old girlfriend, as accidental as it was, that smarts. Willow's back to hanging with Tara on Tuesday, I think that is a good comeback. Thanks for the feedback, I will try to add more Anya into the story.
Will's Redemption: Thanks for pushing me to page 3!
This is the Kittenboard, of course she is going to fight for the relationship. The date will help return the girls back to their intimacy projection. I named Tara's brother's already, but your feedback has made me figure a way to get Xander into the story. You may have to wait a bit though.
Dragon: Thanks for the feedback. As I said to mmmh-Hot-Sauce, I didn't mean to make the friends into jerks. I really see them as trying to look out for Willow. I don't plan for Buffy to make another comeback. She did her bit of angst creation.
Learning to Laugh
This part is PG-13
Disclaimer:Josh owns the characters, I imagine different lives for them. Amber is herself, and as I am realizing that JustSkipIt has a large part in the creation of my characters. Her stories are so real to me, especially
Season 3 Y'all and
Paths Diverged/Divulged. I realize that her stories get messed up with Cannon in my head. I am re-reading these stories and can't hold a candle to them, but the Tara in my mind is a combo of Cannon Tara, Amber Benson, and JustSkipIt's Taras. Willow is partially Cannon, partially mine, and most likely the rest a combination of all the fan fiction I read.
No spoilers.
Part 17B
Willow woke up to the buzzing of her alarm clock.
That sound is so annoying. I just want to throw the stupid clock on the floor. Willow reached for the offending object but hit snooze rather than destroying it.
When it rang again, Anya mumbled, “Please don’t hit snooze again. I didn’t get to sleep until late and I don’t have a class until 1.”
I do not want to get out of bed. I am ahead in Psychology and it’s not like he talks about anything other than what is in the book. I can afford to miss one class. I’m just so tired… Willow put the covers over her head and got ready to go back to sleep; however, this plan was foiled by the ringing of the phone. Willow jumped out of bed and grabbed the phone after the first ring.
“Hello,” she said rather sleepily.
“Hey Willow, you up? Want to meet for breakfast?” said Tara in a much sunnier mood than was Willow was actually feeling.
“I don’t know. I just woke up. I’m really tired. I was thinking of just skipping psychology.”
“Come on, it’s only 9:30. The Willow I know doesn’t skip classes. You are obviously awake. You can get up, shower and meet me at 10 in the cafeteria.”
“Ok. I’ll see you there at 10,” mumbled Willow. She grabbed her shower stuff, sweats, underwear and a shirt, and went to the shower room. Fortunately, a stall was available just as she got in, so she didn’t have to wait. She showered and got dressed in the stall, working hard to make sure she didn’t drag her sweatpants legs in the water on the floor.
this is why a robe is better, she reminded herself.
She returned to her room. She tried very hard to not be too loud as she put on her socks and shoes, found her jacket and grabbed her backpack.
Tara was already sitting in the cafeteria when she got there. Willow was not particularly hungry, so she grabbed an apple, some peanut butter, and a carton of milk. She walked over to the table where her girlfriend was sitting, reading her notes.
“Hey, thanks for waking me up.”
“My pleasure, gotta admit that there are other ways that I like to wake you up, but that can’t be a daily occurrence.” Tara grinned at Willow.
Willow tried to smile back, but it ended up just being a half smile, her left lip going up a few millimeters. She yawned widely. Willow started cutting up her apple to put the peanut butter on it.
“You ok?” asked Tara. Tara looked Willow up and down.
I must be looking great, wet hair in a ponytail, baggy sweats and a sweatshirt, jacket over it. I am just looking so sexy today. Tara looks cute in a tan long skirt, flowered top and her brown boots. She’s got a really good sense of style. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just didn’t feel like getting out of bed.” She paused, “Oh yeah, and I can’t meet you for lunch because I have a doctor’s appointment right after psychology.”
“Dr’s appointment? Are you sick?”
“No, it’s a scheduled thing. It’s for my brain,” said Willow quietly.
“Somethings wrong with your brain!” said loud whisper.
“No, no. It’s a brain doctor, a psychiatrist. I have to see one every few months. It’s complicated.”
“Do you want me to go with you, not to the appointment per se, but to the waiting room?”
“No thanks, this is something I’d rather do alone. It’s a new doctor and I hate meeting new doctors. I have to go through my life history again and again. I wish they’d just keep good records and I could go in and out without worrying.”
“Maybe that’s why you didn’t want to get up, you don’t want to go to the doctor.” Tara took one of Willow’s hands under the table. Willow could feel the familiar tingling on her skin.
“Maybe…”
The two girls continued to eat, making light conversation until it was time to go to class.
***
Willow walked into the student health services and went to the receptionist.
“Willow Rosenberg. I have an appointment at 1:45.”
“Can you fill out this paperwork please.” The receptionist handed Willow a clipboard with several pieces of paper attached.
Willow began filling out all of the paperwork that she had filled out several times the year before.
My health history, my parent’s health history, not going to change over the course of the last few months. Despite her objections, Willow filled out the forms and waited for her name to be called. Several minutes later, a man came out and said, “Rosenberg, Willow?”
Willow stood up, handed him the paperwork and followed him down the hallway. He turned into a room and Willow followed. She sat down on one half of the couch and waited for the doctor to begin asking questions. He was quickly scanning the pages that she had filled out. He turned to Willow.
“So, tell me about yourself Ms. Rosenberg,” said the man with the grey beard and suit.
stereotypical much? I feel like I am staring at the reincarnation of Freud. Willow looked around the office. It was fairly sterile. A nondescript picture of a landscape, a two seater couch and a comfortable chair and side table. The doctor’s yellow pad was sitting on the table. He picked it up, took a pen out of his pocket and appeared ready to start taking notes.
“How much do you need to know to give me a refill on my meds? Didn’t the doc from last year leave notes? Or my doctor, I’ve been on these stupid meds for two years,” said Willow picking at the hem of her shirt.
Why can’t they keep the SAME doctor every year. This has got to be the fifth shrink that I’ve had to talk to since getting out of the hospital. “I need to know what you tell me. Lithium is not a drug to mess around with, I need to make sure it’s the correct medication to treat you.” The doctor picked up the pad, his hand ready to write.
Here it goes again. It is easier to just tell them what they want to hear than fight. Just do the spiel. She leaned back in the chair, put her hands in her hoody pouch and began, “Ok, my name is Willow Danielle Rosenberg, I’m 19 almost 20. I’ll be 20 on November 29th. I am a sophomore here. I was a really energetic kid, really inquisitive, good student, played softball. My most recent IQ score was 158. I got 1500 on my SATs (720 Verbal, 780 Math). My family moved every year that I was in school until my Junior and Senior year of high school. My mom is one of the foremost experts on Tort law, and she guest lectures at multiple institutions. My dad is a law teacher too, but he is more ‘general law’. I have no interest in law at all. I love math and computers. I always have. I started taking medications for depression when I was 15. I tried several of the tricyclic antidepressants. They worked ok, but I made the mistake of telling the doctor that I had some obsessive thoughts about killing myself with my medication. I’d been upset after I broke up with my first girlfriend, and it just popped out. I spent six weeks at McLean’s Hospital in Belmont, MA the summer before I came here freshman year. I was diagnosed with manic depression. They put me on lithium there, and I’ve been on it since then.”
“Tell me about your depression.”
“The depression started when I was a young teenager. I didn’t fit in. All the girls were starting to get interested in boys and make-up, I was interested in math. I was ahead academically. I never felt like I had friends because every time I’d make a good friend, we’d move. It was not worth it to get close to anyone. It got worse as I got older. Sometimes I got really down, and it was hard to get out of bed, I didn’t care about anything, all I wanted to do is sleep. Everything anyone said annoyed me. I didn’t want to eat. My maternal grandmother most likely was manic depressive. She was in and out of hospitals according to my mother until she ‘accidently died’ in a boating accident when my mother was 21. People don’t want to admit she committed suicide. I guess they are afraid that I will get ideas. I’ve been suicidal a few times, but never acted on it other than my obsession with overdosing on my antidepressants. My parents say that I was always irritable and full of energy, and my mom said that I often reminded her of my grandmother. I got the red hair and green eyes from her. My dad has reddish hair, and my mother brown. Both of my parents have “hazel” eyes. Grandma and me, the only green-eyed, red-heads. My parents were so proud that I was this intellectual phenom, but when I came out, they reacted badly. They’ve disowned me. Is that in your paperwork?”
“On a scale of 1-10, how depressed are you today?”
Willow looked at the doctor who was taking copious notes on a yellow legal pad. “I’d give it about a 6. My girlfriend and I are having a bit of a rough patch. But overall, I’m fine. I’ve got a 4.0 average, take five classes, work in the theater, am a co-leader of the campus gay organization, and earned a full scholarship here. I totally support myself. I am a sophomore, I’m in senior mathematics, and I have a double major in Math and Computer Sciences. You’re going to ask about mania now. I’d give my mania is a 2. I don’t think that I have manic depression. I think that they interpreted my clear assertion that I am a lesbian as hypersexuality. Also, I get sort of fixated on things, I am a really good student, and when I am really interested in something, I can go with less sleep.”
“Willow, you do realize that all the things you just said support the diagnosis of manic-depression. You’ve got to be a little manic to be able to do all the things that you just said you do,” said the man, continuing to write down the information that he thought was pertinent.
“No, you just have to be organized. I am not doing anything grandiose. I don’t think I am Joan of Arc or Jesus. I don’t hear voices. I don’t see things that are not there. I’ve never gone on a spending spree. I don’t sleep around, in fact I’ve never even had sex. I sleep 6-8 hours a night, I sometimes babble, but it usually makes sense, and I have never had high self-esteem. I’ve been able to keep the 4.0, my attention is good. They might think I am manic, but I know that I am just Willow,” stated Willow defiantly.
“Who is they?” asked the bespectacled man.
“The doctors and my parents. They use the fact that they think that the Lithium has helped to support the diagnosis. However, I know that Lithium can help for regular depression too.” Willow continued to look at the doctor with a steady stare.
“Your last blood level was low; have you been taking it as prescribed? How’s your eating? Are you drinking enough?”
“I had a brief period of not taking it, but I could tell that I was getting depressed, so I started taking it again regularly. I drink plenty of water, I am not as consistent in eating. If I don’t get to a meal I eat a granola bar. ”
“It is really important that you eat regularly. Granola bars don’t cut it.”
“I know. Listen Doc, I am doing well. In fact, probably better than I have in a long time. I am doing well in school, I have a new girlfriend, I have a bunch of friends. I just need a new prescription for my meds,” stated Willow in a frustrated tone.
“Are you getting therapy?”
“No.” Willow said with a defiant tone.
I don’t want to talk to one more homophobic therapist. My sexuality is not the factor. It’s the fact that my mother’s family is batshit crazy that is the problem. “It’s really important that you get therapy.”
“Why?” challenged Willow.
“To monitor your mood, and to talk about the things that lead you to be either depressed or manic.”
“I can do that myself.”
“I won’t give you a script for your meds if you are not in counseling.”
“Seriously?” Willow felt herself sitting up and moving so she was perched on the couch rather than sitting back in it.
“Yes.”
“So, you’re willing to make me relapse back into depression or mania or both?”
“It would be your willingness, not mine.”
Whatever. I know that the meds help, I don’t want to go into a depression, so I guess I’ll do what this guy wants. “Ok, whatever, I’ll go to counseling, IF it can fit into my schedule.”
“Good.” The man stood up, “You go make six weeks of appointments for therapy, and I’ll give you a script for 2 months of meds. I’ll see you again in 2 months.”
Willow exited the room, went to the receptionist desk, made six appointments, and was handed the piece of paper.
***
Willow walked out of her computer class and found Tara waiting for her. “My class got out early, I thought I’d meet you here so we could walk to dinner together.” The brown-haired girl’s cheeks were pink from the cold outside.
She looks great in those lose cargo pants, and there is a little stripe of skin between the shirt and her pants. Her hair is in the zig-zag part that would look strange on a lot of other people but looks so cute on her. I’m glad she has a good jacket, so that little piece of stomach skin doesn’t get cold. “Great.” Willow smiled toward Tara, her smile going to her eyes for the first time in a few days.
“Where do you want to get dinner?” asked Tara bouncing down the stairs of the classroom building and walking toward the door.
“I missed lunch, so I’m really hungry. Let’s go to the dining hall, not the cafeteria. Some hot food would taste good,” responded Willow as she opened the heavy wooden door for Tara.
“Ok.” Tara walked through the door and down the stairs. Willow followed her and they headed toward the dining hall.
There was a somewhat awkward silence as they walked down the pathway and into the well-lit building. The difference between the cold outside air and the warm dining room air hit Willow, and she was glad that she didn’t wear glasses. Other people’s glasses fogged up as they walked in, and one of these befuddled people stepped on her foot in the entry way. They got into line. The available hot food was some sort of chicken casserole, Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, broccoli, peas, and apple cobbler. They both chose the Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes. Tara chose broccoli while Willow chose peas. They both grabbed a roll, silverware and walked to an empty table.
“So, what is new?” asked Tara as she sat down. “Can I ask how your appointment went.”
“Sure.” Willow dug into her food as though she hadn’t eaten in days.
Tara waited for Willow to answer the question, when it was clear that it was not going to happen, she asked “How was your appointment?”
“Oh,” she answered as though she was surprised. “It was ok, what I expected.” She paused while taking another bite of food. She swallowed and said, “The doctor made me make therapy appointments before he’d refill my prescription, so now on top of all the things I have to do, I now have therapy on Thursdays at 9:30. “
“That sucks, that was one of our times,” stated Tara.
“Yeah, I know, but I really need to take my medication. I was also reminded that I need to eat lunch. I can only live on granola bars so long.”
“I imagine. I don’t know how you do it. As I told you, I get really grumpy when I don’t eat. Not that I couldn’t skip a few and lose some weight.” Tara looked down at herself.
“You are perfect just like you are. You are beautiful.” Willow looked at the girl and for the hundredth time though
Thank you whatever celestial being/object/idea for pointing her in my directions Tara blushed, “Thanks.”
After they were done eating and were bringing their trays to the dishwashing area, Willow asked, “Um, can I ask you a favor?”
“Yeah, anything.”
“Do you think you could drive me to a pharmacy so I can fill my prescription.”
“Definitely. Do you need to do it tonight?” Tara began walking toward the door.
“I can wait until tomorrow if you’ve got something to do tonight,” commented Willow as she tried to catch up with the slightly taller girl.
“If we wait until tomorrow, maybe we could go on a date afterwards?” Tara stopped, and turned to Willow. They were standing on the sidewalk.
“Miss Tara, are you asking me out on a date?” Willow looked at her with a beguiling smile.
“Yep. Are you willing to go out on a date with me?”
“Definitely.”
“What do you have left to do tonight?” asked Tara.
“Well, I am actually pretty free. I’ve done my geometry and my lab. But I guess if we are going out on a date tomorrow, I should make sure that I have my COBALT and Psychology done. “She paused, “Oh yeah, I’m caught up until next week.” Willow laughed.
“Sounds like you made good use of Sunday,” said Tara somewhat sadly. “You want to come to my room while I study for my Art History quiz?”
“Sure,” said Willow. She began following Tara toward her dorm.