When Jackie gets back from the Pharmacy, Lou's sitting in Admitting. It's not good. I don't know that I have much to say about it. Here comes the chin.
Jackie: "Lou, are you all right? You know you were discharged... Do you need somebody to walk you out?"
Lou: "No, I left, but I... I went home, and then I came back again. I... I uh... I keep falling. Not literally, but -- well, that too, but -- I feel like I'm gonna do something stupid..."
They say when things get that bad there's two kinds of people: School shooters and suicides. Basically, that depression is anger turned inward, and anger is fear turned outward. And I grew up around clinical depression and I know what suicide looks like, and I am totally the other kind: Total school shooter. My anger, of which there is a great deal, doesn't really turn inward. So already, I don't understand how you get there.
I mean, I understand depression, I understand the inability to think your way around a dead engine, the inability to remember how you got out of the handcuffs before. The Eight of Swords. I just don't understand the next part, where the action that you take is no action at all. Where you solve the problem that way.
But even more incomprehensible to me, and I think to Jackie, is the bravery just beyond that realization, when you go to someone and actually ask for help. When you admit that you're not capable of being responsible for your own welfare. That there are two yous, the one watching and the one hurting, and the one watching is no longer in control of what the other one's about to do. It just seems so lonely. I mean, I guess, that I still have so much to prove. What I don't understand is how you can say, "Just listen without fixing," and somehow know that that's what's going to fix it.
Lou: "I didn't know where else to go."
Jackie: "Okay, you're all right. Come with me."
She doesn't look away, she doesn't do anything: She fixes without thinking. We heal others to heal ourselves; sometimes for reasons even better than that. She takes Lou -- not by the hand, not with anything less than the total dignity and grace he deserves, and carries with him -- up for an eval, and a bed. A short battle of wills later with the receiving nurse, and they take him in.