Chapter Sixteen

And the hits just keep on coming. 

Morgan slammed the door behind him as he returned to his apartment, barely two hours after he had left the very same place for work. His neighbours would most likely take offence with his actions but, for today, he couldn't care less. He went straight to the fridge, grabbed two bottles of Ludweiser and found a comfortable spot on the couch. 

Once again I'm alone with my demons. This will be a long couple of weeks.

His work was not only his passion but also a welcome distraction from the tumultuous events of his life. It was a problem that he had spent months running away from, hoping against hope that it would either vanish or sort itself out. He knew for a fact that there were better and more effective ways to deal with it, one of which was forced upon him today.

Morgan opened one of the bottles and took a gulp. As the cold alcoholic beverage slid down his throat to produce a burning sensation in his chest, he began to recall the events of the morning. He was yet to call the psychiatrist and although he really didn't want to, his hands were tied. When he pressed the bottle to his lips, a horrific thought stopped him dead in his tracks.

Everyone will think that I'm weak now. They will probably treat me differently when I return. How will I be able to face them again? I'm not sure if I want to go back.

Depression, an ever present entity tucked away in the darkest corners of society, had been thrust into the spotlight after a rash of suicidal teenage attempts posted on social media. Morgan followed the news closely even though he had abandoned social media.

No longer were the noncommunicable diseases such as diabetes, hypertension and cancer or the infectious diseases such as HIV, tuberculosis and hepatitis the sole targets of research. Awareness campaigns and clubs were opened in numerous schools in addition to universities across the nation. TV and newspaper ads were sponsored by medical associations with the help of pharmaceutical companies although the motives of the latter were usually questioned.

While the majority of the younger generation embraced this truth that mental ailments existed and needed treatment, the older and more traditional one stuck to their collective guns. Their children had nothing to be depressed about because they did not have to deal with the real world. They were not paying taxes, worrying about bills or their next meal. As a result, children could not approach their parents with their problems and their parents would never truly know what was going on. Sometimes this ever present gap led to disastrous consequences.

How could people in the same house be worlds apart? So close, yet so far away.

Morgan closed his eyes after chugging the rest of the bottle, trying to process this thought. He could relate to them in a way. Personal issues that he could not discuss with his work colleagues forced him to soldier on and suffer in silence. 

What drove them to commit suicide? Did they feel as powerless and hopeless as I do now? Are their souls at peace now that the pain is finally over?

Morgan swore that it would never be an option for him, no matter how bad things got. It was one of the few things he carried from the little religious faith he had left. As a doctor he was trained to do no harm and although it was usually applied in relation to the patients he treated, it doubly applied to him in this instance.

The image of Maddison Silva slowly began to form in the back of his mind and the clearer it got, the guiltier he felt. He had meant to contact her within three days but soon found himself swamped with work. However the events of today had presented him with plenty of free time to take up the task. A debate raged in his mind on whether he should text her or Jackson. To be alone in these times was a dangerous place to be but Morgan had neither the desire nor the energy to entertain anyone right now. The process of isolation where he could just feel each and every emotion was far more appealing.

There's only one thing would make this moment that little bit more special.

Morgan turned on the Bluetooth speaker in the living room, connected his phone and clicked on his special playlist which he felt was adequately titled: In my feelings. It was a playlist he had become very familiar with, despite the fact that it was just recently made. The massive speaker boomed into life, filling up the room with its beautiful melody. Morgan downed the other bottle and proceeded to dance in the centre of the room. Sad moments required sad music to make one feel better and science backed up this fact. 

One hour later the music was temporarily interrupted by a pinging sound which alerted him to the presence of a message. When he saw the name of  the sender, his eyes widened.