Underneath this skin there’s a human
Buried deep within there’s a human
And despite everything I’m still human
But I think I’m dying here
trigger warnings: self harm & schizophrenia
Corrine gives the brunette a half-hearted smile, appreciating the help and trying to let herself be helped. It just wasn’t something she was used to. “I don’t know if I feel any better after talking… in the past it’s always come back to me, but since therapy is confidential… it could be different here. In the big picture, everything I said led me to where I am now. Publicity. It’s not the prettiest, believe me.” She looks down, remembering how it felt every damn time she got a horrible review, or people shamed her for her relationship with Uriah and how she looked, and her bad habits… And for getting getting sentenced to Parkwood. Everything she said was held over her head, and speaking wasn’t something she thought of as remotely safe at this point. Corrine swallows hard and looks up at the ceiling. “I guess— I guess I could try it. And—and talk.”
Lily feels the mood lighten slightly as Corrine smiles. though she isn’t quite sure if it was a true smile or not. But she accepts it and decides it’s not best to question it considering the blonde’s previous mood. “You should give it a go. Besides, actually attending your therapy sessions contribute to you getting out. Who did you tell, exactly? Because telling the wrong people can lead to stuff like that. Publicity? Oh my gosh, I know you. You’re Corrine Ward, right? I saw you on Broadway a while ago. You’re really good.” She’s having a small fangirl moment, the smile on her face widening. “It will really help, I promise.”
She rubs her forehead, sighing heavily. Her eyes flick down again and she chews on her lip. “I was great at venting before I came here, but I don’t know if it helps me. It just… made me even more angry.” All the angry rants that led to bad publicity hit her hard and she scoffs, shaking her head. “Suffice to say telling people my problems has never worked out for me.” But then again… “Aren’t therapists supposed to keep everything confidential? Maybe… Maybe that would work better…” She thinks out loud. “I don’t know the whole candy coating thing works for me or not… They never did it before I got here, and maybe that’s what drove me here… But it hasn’t helped me here either, that’s for sure.”
"Well that’s good!" Now she isn’t afraid of using an excited tone, except it sounds like she’s giving Corrine a pep talk before she plays a big game. But that is what it felt like in a way, she is trying her hardest to motivate the older woman into do something for her own benefit. "You’d let it all out? And that’s good, you’d express yourself and your feelings! Would you feel better after letting it all out? From personal experience, it was that way for me, but it varies for everyone, I guess." Lily ran her tongue along the inside of her lower lip, twisting a lock of hair around her finger. "Yep, all top secret stuff. Just you and your therapist. Unless, of course, you look like a serial killer, then they’ll tell someone what’s going on during the sessions. Well you never know until you find out.”
Corrine sucks her bottom lip in, nodding a little bit. When she looks up at the brunette’s face, she saw a small smile, and she could tell it was genuine. Maybe she didn’t have the confidence that Lily did, but at least it was something. Knowing that Lily believed in her shrank the lump in her throat a little, and she tilts her head thoughtfully. “Does therapy work for you?” the blonde asks quietly. “I… I tried it a few times… But I never understood what to talk about. Nobody used to care what I thought. You know, it’s just something irrelevant and, well, in the way. Just follow along and do whatever the people want, right?” The girl smirks darkly, more of a grimace than a smile. She brings her hand to her chest and traces her collarbone, her cold hands making her stiffen again. “Thanks anyway… And it really does mean something to me. I really do hope you can see that.” Corrine shakes her head slightly, smiling sadly to herself. “Nobody tells you the truth here. For me, it’s always just felt like… I don’t know, a giant pity party where we all just sympathize and wallow in our own self-pity.”
As Lily allows the silence to blanket the both of them, she chews at the inside of her cheek
"I- I’m sorry," Corrine shrinks a little, a little confused and a little intimidated. It felt as though Lily was reprimanding her, and Corrine just felt wrong about everything. Until now, she never talked to someone at Eastwick or Parkwood who didn’t just slather her with sympathy. She stiffens and starts to speak hesitantly. "You’re right. I… don’t believe I can do it. I guess I need to work on that." Corrine winces, squeezing her eyes shut, frustrated in herself and not being able to comprehend what she was trying to say herself. "Sure, they’re poison, but at a point they do become survival. When I don’t have any drugs for a day, I just… it makes me sick. I was eased off everything else, it was controlled, but I couldn’t go cold turkey. And I am so afraid of what will happen to me if I stop taking the antidepressants.” She trails off and hugs her arms close to her chest, shivering a little. “There’s too many… Too many pills.”
Lily instantly shakes her head at Corrine’s apology, feeling a pang of guilt. She’d learned after spending almost a year in an asylum that there really was no need for sugar coating things. It just softens the blow, which the patients needed to get used to. If they wanted to get out, they needed to judged and probed and bit in the ass, and frankly they needed to learn to fight back once they got out. In Corrine’s case, she needed to fight the addiction, which Lily had no doubt in her mind she could do. And maybe she was being too harsh, but she just calls it as she sees it. “Don’t apologize. There are good therapists here, they’re here to help.” A small reassuring smile appears on the brunette’s face as she brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “Some, not all.” She quickly points out, rubbing the back of her neck with her hand. “Withdrawal, you’ll get over it eventually, it’s hard. But I believe you can do it, if that means anything to you. Though it probably doesn’t coming from a know-it-all patient who you don’t know.”
"Try harder?" She echoes. Her gaze falls to the floor and she thinks about what Lily said. "Why try hard if your effort is never good enough to stop having to come back to try even harder? I’m supposed to be trying y hardest to begin with, aren’t I?" She wonders out loud, looking back up at the other girl. "And why would it feel bad to rely on something? We all rely on food and water, don’t we? They… they don’t even give me a high anymore. They’ve just become… a need. Like if you’re thirsty, you want water, right? I guess you could say it’s like a hunger or thirst for drugs…" Corrine clasps her hands together, rubbing her fingers absent-mindedly. "I suppose trying to ‘get over’ depression without drugs is an idea that I never… never really thought of before. Do you think I could? It’s just… there are so many things I think about over recovery, and having accepted the idea of being stuck here forever, it’s just not something I think I can do. But maybe…"
"That’s not a very positive way of thinking.." She says shortly, slightly disappointed in the lack of esteem that the other girl had. Sure, being in a place like Eastwick set you up for permanent frown lines and a low self esteem, but there always has to be one silver lining. "Listen, Miss, I’m not a therapist so I wouldn’t be asking me all of these deep questions that only someone with a degree can answer correctly. What I’m telling you though, is what I know from experience. And I know for a fact you have to believe that you can do it, believe that you can get better. Then the rest will eventually follow with time and effort.” With a slight shake of her head, Lily scoffs. “Not what I meant. Having to rely on food and water is a no brainer because he need those for survival. Drugs, they aren’t something needed for survival unless they’re for medical purposes. But either way you look at it, drugs are technically poison. An Advil helps get rid of a headache, Streptomycin helps treat the Bubonic Plague, all medical. Sure, anti-depressants help, but taking them recreational serves no purpose and you’re otherwise poisoning/killing yourself slowly for a buzz that lasts, what? A few hours? Just doesn’t make sense to me.” She just wants to reach out and hug her, to comfort Corrine because it was obvious she didn’t believe in herself and well, someone needed to. “Of course you can get over depression without pills. When you got here, did they slowly ween you off the pills or force you to quit cold turkey?”
Corrine’s shoulders fall and she sighs gently. “There are times when I don’t want to recover, when I feel like being ‘unstable’ is just easier and more, well, stable in some ways.” She squints slightly at the other girl’s small smirk, unsure if she’s teasing her. “But what if it just all hits me again even after I’ve tried to get out of this hole?”
She doesn’t want to have a bad reaction to this, in case it breaks out an argument and she gains one more person to avoid, so Lily just listens silently and nods at the appropriate times. “But don’t you feel so bad having to rely on something like pills? Sure, they give you a high for a little while, right? Pardon me, I don’t know much about pill addictions, but I’m assuming that’s what they do? You’re your own person, and frankly, in my opinion, people don’t need to rely on things just to feel good or ‘get better.’ It’s up to them, you know? They have to make the decision to get better, they have to take the steps needed to do so, no one’s going to hold their hand and make all of their decisions for them. And if you relapse..” That’s what hit home with her. After spending X amount of months out of the asylum, coming back after a Schizophrenic breakdown has to have been one of the hardest things the younger girl went through. “Then you’ll just try harder the second time.”
Incurable? Trying to get “cured” of pill addiction isn’t the easiest when you’ve got to take pills for depression and— and anxiety, and insomnia and all the side effects are stronger than ever. And bulimia, depression, and addictions aren’t the easiest to recover from either. They come back. Just like that. Even if you think you’ve gotten rid of them for good. [muttering] I’ll bet no one expects in “incurable” people to get better. And nobody tells them they’ve brought it on themselves. [louder] I haven’t been here as long as you. I haven’t been surrounded by people who actually cared or wanted me to be healthy and happy until I came here. If anyone here even really does care. I’ve taken sixth months to start, but it’s better now than never, isn’t it?
Lily furrows her brows as the blonde speaks, trying to figure out what it is she’s saying. “Nobody ever said it was easy
Well, as are you. I… I’ve been here for a little over 6 months. How long you been here?
"Well I can’t exactly get over my condition with a few therapy sessions and prescription pills. As of right now? About sixteen hours and twenty four minutes. But I was in Parkwood previously, though I got released before I hit my year mark. I did, in fact, try to get better. I can’t exactly ‘get better’ since it’s incurable, but they deemed me socially acceptable."