A Combustible Life, My Ongoing Struggles with Manic Depression by Keegan O'Connell

Author:Keegan O'Connell [O'Connell, Keegan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Lawyers, Guns, and Money.

After that trip I had the whole week off, and we would drink for hours on the tennis courts at night after the kids had gone to bed.

This other form of self-medication kept me going, and as usual I would sleep as much as possible, sometimes waking at six pm, stuffing my face at dinner, only to break into the kitchen later in the evening and slot as much food as possible.

By this time, I was drunk and hungry.

One night that week it was raining, so we drank in a cabin while the kids were asleep, except for two sixteen-year-old French girls and a seventeen-year-old American boy.

Anthony, a counsellor who lived up the road, and I, ended up making out with the Frenchies, and an American counsellor, called Sandy, kissed the American boy camper.

Anthony was your quintessential American jock. His car licence plate read, ‘Ant Lacrosse’. I don’t think I knew what lacrosse was, but he was good at it, obviously.

Anthony liked to show a bit of bravado, but when I met his sister who had Down Syndrome, and saw how much they loved each other, and how they interacted, I knew he was a softy with a lot of love to give.

Sandy looked like a sober Lindsey Lohan, with cute freckles and red hair.

One of the British counsellors, who worked in the horse-riding part of the camp, came in and saw this.

The fucking bitch grassed us out, and an interrogation was scheduled.

Before it started, Ant, Sandy, and I, agreed to deny everything.

We were called in one by one, to answer questions from an Australian female counsellor called Sam, who was obese, always flushed, and mostly out of breath.

There were two other senior counsellors. The South African aunty who I didn’t like, and Todd the fucking Rodd.

I went in first and calmly denied everything. I was shaking and hoped they didn’t notice, so I kept shuffling around, changing seating positions and using hand gestures.

I walked out thinking that I’d put on a good performance, and when Sandy’s questioning was over, she said she had done well too.

Sandy and I were waiting for Ant to finish answering his questions, and it took way longer than our sessions, which made us a bit nervous.

When he came out his eyes were blood shot and puffy, which wasn’t a good sign.

Ant had gone with the plan for a while, but his conscience took over, and he told the truth.

I couldn’t blame him. I was the coward and the liar, and everyone knew that.

Ant and I were fired, but Sandy kept her job. Who knows why.

We weren’t allowed to say goodbye, our bags were packed for us, and we were told to kindly fuck off and never come back.

There were still two weeks left of our contracts, so cash flow became a problem, but Ant stayed with his parents about forty minutes’ drive from the camp, so I became a house guest, which was lucky, otherwise I don’t know what the hell I would have done.

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