13 de lege lata

I'm ashamed to admit at this point, my depression got so bad, I called in for a week off, I didn't leave the house, I didn't answer the phone, I didn't do any paperwork, I didn't even bother with my personal hygiene and that is something I take personal pride in, making sure that I was neatly groomed and clean and trimmed and professional looking, but my depression was so bad that I just lay in bed, not caring to eat, drink, shower or brushing my teeth. All I could think of was Naomi and what utter terror she must have gone through in her last moments as she bled to death on the concrete floor as I chased after the motorcycle shooters. I didn't care much for even watching T.V, my depression was eating me alive and I knew that if I didn't get a handle on it, it would only get much, much worse in the very end. I was terrified of losing myself to the darkness. As a kid, the dark terrified me, the concept of it scared me shitless to the point that I had an obession of making sure that I didn't sleep in the dark, until my mother yelled at me and made me give up my nightlight when I turned eight, she berated me and called me mentally weak and pathetic and threw the nightlight at the wall and it crashed into pieces. I never forgave her for that.

And now, even now, being in the dark scared me because there were countless criminals that hid and stalked in the shadows, ready to pounce out and eat me alive, that the demons I once imagined as a child were nothing in comparison to the demons that existed in real life. There were serial killers and robbers and kidnappers and serial rapists that hid in the dark, but there were other evil monsters like them that did their work even in the broad daylight. I just didn't see the point in even fighting anymore, all I wanted to do was lie down, fall asleep for maybe a very very long time. In fact I hoped at one point, that I would never wake up. I wanted to feel more than this empty void feeling that I was feeling inside and yet, my arm hurt and throbbed so I had to exercise the muscles and I did the stretches. 

As I was doing the PT exercises, I could hear a banging on the door, it seemed very impatient and not something I could wave off with an excuse, I got up and sighed as I opened the door and realized that it was Detective Elliot and he added 

"Jesus your house stinks like my kids one time stunk up the house."

I sighed "All this week it felt like as if I had no energy to do anything, I guess I was more exhausted than I thought."

Elliot added "Take a bath for starters! And shave that face, you have a five o clock shadow and it's against department regulations, you have to be clean shaven. And I will also be taking you out as well. No arguing."

I could tell that Elliot would manhandle me outside if necessary so I decided to go take a bath, I could hear Elliot picking up the garbage and tossing it away and washing the dishes. When I finished with my shower, I shaved off the stubble that was starting to grow on my chin and cheeks and then rubbed some aftershave and then I got dressed in a pair of jeans and a v neck t shirt that was green colored and then I brushed my hair to the side, and that's when I started seeing more grey and white strands near the temples of my head. I knew I was getting older and older physically due to stress aging me out and there was nothing I could do. I then grabbed my keys and wallet and then went to see Elliot fixing the whole room, it was nice and clean and shiny and I felt embarrassed that my co worker was the one who cleaned it for me. Elliot interrupted my thoughts saying 

"Don't feel embarrassed seeking the help of your friends, you know you need help, and a lot of love too. You need someone to help you take care of yourself. I just hope you find someone who can do that because this right here is a big sign of depression. You need to talk to someone."

I snorted 

"Talk? To who? the department psychologist will ruin my career! They will destroy and obliterate any chance I have of getting promoted and you know that Elliot!"

I cried and cried a flood of tears, and before I knew it, we both were undressed, naked and in bed, and in bliss. My lips felt puckered and my body was raw and sore and I loved it so much, the pain made me forget the loss I was still processing and the grief I had been forced to endure and the waves of depression that were battering me to pieces. I noticed that Elliot had a wedding band on his left ring finger and my heart shuddered, he was already married. He didn't belong to me and he never would. It was terrifying but it was exquisite and exciting, the thrill of a forbidden lover, especially a gay lover was something I would have never dreamed of, except of in romantic novels and by god, Stabler's cupid bow lips and his sexy brown hair and his chiseled chest and oh god, the way he was artful and graceful during sex was so mind-blowing, it further made me realize that I was bisexual, I wasn't straight, not when sexy, handsome men like Stabler. I just didn't want Stabler to get hurt. He needed to go home before his wife became angry at him. I gently shook him awake and told him 

"Your wife needs you more than I do, I'll be at work tomorrow. I promise."

Stabler looked sad and broken but seemed to understand as he got dressed and left, and once again I was alone in the darkness, alone with my worst fears.