O.A. - Ruby

Directly to my right was Galina, a woman with short hair and thick glasses.

All these three smiled and laughed too much. I wanted to ask them: “What is your damn problem?”

“Good afternoon everyone! So nice to see new faces!” for some reason it was Natalia who said this, and then, standing up and taking the tablet of paper on which she had been sitting, continued: “Let’s say hi to Roman and Oleg.”

What the hell?!

All those present greeted us rather weakly.

I didn’t understand anything. Maria had said that a specialist would be leading the group and I had thought it would be a man.

On Roman’s face one could see slight bewilderment as well.

“Today much fewer than usual have gathered.” Natalia continued. “Let’s start with you guys. Tell us about yourselves.”

She turned to me and Roman.

Since I didn’t really like anyone here, except maybe Roman, I didn’t feel any embarrassment. Moreover, Natalia, with her nails, did not in any way resemble a psychotherapist, psychologist, psychiatrist, or anyone like that. Therefore, I decided not to be too ceremonious.

“I beg your pardon,” I began, “will you be leading this group? My therapist said it was being led by a man. Therefore, I want to clarify whether I am in the wrong place or what.”

“Yes, Evgeny Petrovich is now on vacation, but we have already gotten together without him from time to time. There are many of us, we have our own Facebook group, and we all know each other. Alena and I are usually the hosts. Therefore, you are welcome to our friendly company.”

No thanks.

It was very unprofessional for Maria to merge me into a group of morons like that, without finding out whether it is still being led by a “specialist” or not.

Well, I was setup.

“Which of you will start first?”

I made a pointing gesture with my palm towards Roman.

“Hello everyone. My name is Roman. I am 38 years old. I am a journalist…” a nd he has a beautiful voice. Such a pleasant, soothing timbre… “I was diagnosed about a month ago. I learned about you from my psychotherapist, who sent me here for the duration of her vacation.” Do we have the same one by any chance? “Anything else I need to tell you all?”

Roman sat with his back straight, his hands on his knees, a very interesting pose. He seems very pleasant and sweet to me.

“I think I’ll say on behalf of everyone that we are very pleased to meet you, Roman.” Natalia smiled.

Don’t you dare come on to him you bitch .

“Oleg?”

It seems like I need to show off and please Roman. Hope he’s not straight.

Here we gooooo!

“Hello everyone. My name is Oleg. I am 30. I have type 2 bipolar disorder. I was also referred here by my psychotherapist who also went on vacation. Everyone seems to be here on some sort of vacation flash mob.” I made a short pause so I could jump in ahead of Natalia, and as soon as she opened her mouth to say something, I continued: “Oh, yes, I’m also gay.”

“We are pleased that you are here, Oleg.” She said somehow crookedly, after a second pause, Natalia smiled crossing her arms over her chest.

Behind her, this movement was repeated by almost everyone, except for Roman and Lisa.

“Who wants to share their successes with the group or tell everyone something?”

I definitely don’t like it here. More precisely, I do not like Natalia with her crossed arms and all those repeaters who did exactly the same.

“For the record I have all the signs of depression written all over my face.” Lisa began, spreading her arms. “People disgust me, except artistic people. No offense.”

Her I like!

“And not just disgust, they are nauseating to me, and I hate them.” she continued.

I think we’ll get along.

“Life itself pisses me off and these stupid, cheerful people. What are they so damn happy about? Some dubious pleasures from which not a trace will remain after death. Everything is completely screwed up this whole life is completely screwed.”

I take my words back it’s not so bad here.

“Why the hell do you have to go to work and to feed a body which only causes headaches? Wash it, shave it, comb it, now it’s cold, then it’s hot. Then it gets old and becomes ugly, which makes it even more upsetting. It also hurts and scars are left on it. And then death and so much effort just wasted for nothing. If not for my daughter, I would definitely do something to myself.”

To be honest, I thought it would be more boring here. After Lisa, someone else spoke up, but I no longer listened to anyone and disappeared into my own thoughts. I did not expect that the state she described would be so similar to mine. Not at the moment but in general, I understood, even knew exactly what she was talking about. Not about death. I never intended to do anything to myself. There were times, of course, when I wouldn’t have minded if something had happened to me, some kind of accident, a meteorite or some kind of ruptured aneurysm, but I myself would never do anything like that.

There had been a time when Cam, Sopha and Amir decided that I wanted to jump off the roof but I had just been sitting on the edge then. At that time, I still did not have a diagnosis nor medications. I had drunk a bottle and a half of wine that evening, but I was not drunk. I WAS VERY ILL. I felt such an extreme level of destructive sadness, melancholy and hopelessness, that I can only associate it with rust eating up sheets of iron.

I took the key to the door leading to the roof. I don’t know why, but out of all the residents of our particular entrance, the key was only kept by us. I grabbed the bottle with the remnants of the wine and went to sit upstairs to look at the city at night. I never thought of jumping.

If I had decided to commit suicide, which is unlikely, I would have first written a damn touching note and drank sleeping pills to leave in peace. Flying off the roof on the other hand would definitely cause me to experience high stress.

So that’s it, but the guys decided that I had wanted to jump, which made me very upset and angry. As a result, as soon as I heard Sophia behind my back, who evenly said that I needed to calm down and crawl away from the edge so as not to do anything stupid, I in anger threw the bottle from the roof, got up abruptly and went back to the apartment.

At first, the guys were very wary, but no one spoke to me on the topic. They just pretended that nothing of the kind had happened.

After the time allotted for the meeting came to an end, I was the very first to leave the facility, when there were still people who were staying for tea and that healthy plate of cookies and sweets.

I decided to go into the courtyard where my friend, the homeless person, was sitting, in order to ask what he needed in the form of basic necessities, and if possible, to buy them.

“Oleg,” I heard a voice behind me, “wait five seconds.”

It was Roman.

“I didn’t have time to get to know you personally,” he approached with a quick step and held out his hand.

“Glad to meet you Roman,” I replied with a handshake.

Taller than me by a head. Pleasant appearance. Nice scent of perfume.

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