For some strange reason, I want to tell Miles. He’s a nurse, so he’ll get it, right?
But can I?Or will it make him see me differently? I don’t want to scare him off. I like him too much.
“Jordan?”
I hadn’t realized I lowered the camera. “Yeah, sorry.” I suck in a quick breath. “I guess Iam off tonight.”
“You want to talk about it?”
What can I say that isn’t revealing or too heavy? “Just kinda low, you know?”
He considers that. “Low as in you’re going through a hard time or low as in your mind is being cruel?”
“My mind.” I can’t look at him as I say, “I have clinical depression.”
He’s quiet for a moment, then lowers his voice. “Thank you for telling me. I know that’s not easy. But I’m here for you, okay? Whatever you need.”
I swallow hard, eyes stinging. I can’t reply.
“I can let you go? Or we can keep talking. Doesn’t matter. You tell me.”
His quick acceptance means everything to me. Then again, he probably deals with mental illnesses at work all the time. He shouldn’t have to deal with it in his personal life too.
Miles waits, giving me the choice.
“I don’t mind talking,” I say. “I just… don’t have a lot to say right now. Or the energy to say it. If that makes sense.”
“I get that. Do you mind if I ask just one question, though? Just so I have the full picture.”
I roll to my side, propping the phone up against a pillow. “Okay.”
“Are you being treated for it?”
“Yeah. I’m on a couple of meds.”
“And they help?”
“I think so.”
“Youthinkso?”
I shrug. “It’s hard to know for sure.”
He hesitates. “Well, I don’t think any medicine can stop the feeling completely, but it should lessen it. If it’s not, you might need to think about trying a different kind or different dose or something.”
I look away, feeling exposed.
“I’m just saying, I see it at work all the time. Our bodies are different, so what works for one person might not work for another. It can be tricky to find the right medicine.”
I run my fingers along the edge of the soft blanket. “Yeah.”
“Anyway, I’m not here to tell you what to do. I’m sorry you’re feeling that way. I’ve been depressed a few times in my life too, so I know how hard it is to overcome.”
I don’t think I knew how bad I needed to hear that from someone. A weight shifts inside of me.
“Is that why you’re in bed?” he asks. There’s no judgment in his tone, just curiosity.
“Yeah. It’s just… I don’t know. Easier here, I guess.”
