Prescription drugs. I think it was valium in the beginning. Then it was anti-anxiety drugs. He works really hard, teaching all over the world, is at everyone’s call, so many people rely on him to get through life. He is the guru. He supports a multitude of people. I call them sycophants. David laughs at that.
Then he comes home and crashes.
I've questioned his doctors, for some time. (Questioning David about his doctors) They have given him whatever drugs he wants. Essentially, David has been taking the Heath Ledger mix for years.
What prompted the change? He took his usual drug combo and fell asleep in the bath and nearly did a Whitney. That scared him. And it must be exhausting, it is exhausting, the black moods and the crying when he is home alone. He said it was. He said he can’t do it anymore.
“My uncle, my mother, it will all come out, I guess,” he says with a flourish. Over protected, the only Greek son. (molested by his uncle as a kid)
“That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?” I say.
“It has to be something,” he says. “I hope it does come out. Get it cleared. Gone. I want it to be…”
“It may be none of those things.”
“There has to be something.”
“Whatever it is…”
“Whatever it is,” says David.
He sounded nervous, as you would be nervous, essentially, off into the unknown. He wanted to talk. He is going to spend 28 days in rehab.
“How did you find this place?” I ask. “I hope it isn’t doctor’s without degrees.”
“I’ve done my research, don’t you worry about that,” David says. “Do you think I am stupid?”
“No darling,” I say. “Far from stupid.”
“You’d never guess who runs the place?”
Shane’s boyfriend Tully, who David has fallen out with in recent years, his mate.
“You are kidding me,” I say.
“How many degrees separation?” asks David.
“Do you think he’ll say anything to Tully?”
“I’ve spoken to him about it,” said David. “He assured me that would be against doctor patient confidentiality.”
“Is he a doctor?”
“Ha ha,” says David. “You know what I mean.”
We laugh at the prospect. He says I am the only one who makes him laugh and snaps him out of it, if only for the time we speak. He says everyone else doesn’t know what to say. I just say it.
“What kind of fucken guru are you, anyway?”
“Shhhh,” he says. “Don’t give it away.”
"So, will you be back in 28 days?"
"No, I'm going straight to Nepal, afterwards."
"So many sycophants, so little time," I say.
"I'll see you at the end of January."
No comments:
Post a Comment