Maya and Robert Find Out As Well

There was still the problem of how – or what – I was going to tell Maya and Robert. I’d burned through the migraine excuse a while ago, and I was seriously afraid they thought I was on drugs.

I was right. I was having another morning when I couldn’t get started – they were happening at least once a week by this point – and, after Robert took the boys to school, he came into my room holding something.

“Hunter,” he said, “I want you to know that we’re all very worried about you. You’re a part of the show and we want to keep you onboard.”

I started to feel super, super uncomfortable. This wasn’t going anywhere good. You also need to imagine me curled up in the bed in the dark bedroom with Robert standing in the light in the doorway.

“But we’re concerned. And…this isn’t easy for me to say…we’re concerned that you might have a drug problem. Maybe you started with steroids and it led to something else…”

“I…,” I interrupted. I never touched a steroid in my life. Y’all know that.

“The network has a very strict drug policy, so, if you do have a problem, we’re going to need to treat it before they find out. And…this is uncomfortable, but…I’m going to need you to take a drug test.”

I’d been expecting something like that for a few weeks. I was surprised at my reaction when it happened: I started laughing.

Robert probably thought I really was on drugs at that point.

“I’ll take any test you want,” I said. “I’m clean as a whistle. I’ve taken drug tests before and I’ve never had a problem. I never touched PEDs when I was playing….”

“…but maybe to maintain your physique?…”

“…and I’m certainly not going to mess with bad shit like that just so I can have 6 pack abs. Drugs aren’t the problem, believe me. I’ll piss in as many cups as you want me to, but you’re not going to find the problem that way.”

“I believe you, man,” Robert said. He never called me “man” before. “Are you sick or something?”

“You might as well have it,” I said, since there was no choice by that point. “It’s a mental health issue. I’m depressed.  And the part that seriously sucks is that me and my therapist can’t seem to figure out why. If we did, we might be able to get it to stop.”

“You’ve been seeing a therapist? But you haven’t put it through on your insurance. You know you’re covered for a certain number of visits per year.”

“I’ve been paying him in cash,” I explained. “I didn’t want y’all to know.”

“Hunter, you’re basically family at this point. And not just on the show. The boys adore you, the dog likes you more than he likes any of us, and Maya and I value your contributions to the family even more than your contributions to the show. We care about you, in other words. And…” Robert was getting mixed up. I think he was glad to know that I wasn’t on drugs, and that the depression thing wasn’t what he was expecting. “I came in here with a drug test all ready to get you to go to rehab, and, instead, it looks like you’ve already taken all the steps you need to get better. I guess we won’t be needing this,” he said, indicating the drug test cup he was holding in his hand.

“Let me take the test, just so you don’t’ have any doubts,” I said. “I’m not insulted by it. It’s what I was expecting you to think.” I started to feel real tired at that point, like I wanted to pull the covers over my head and be alone to feel lousy about myself and the world. “Just leave it on the nightstand. Or do you want me to do it now?” I didn’t really have to go to the restroom, but it would be good to have the matter settled.

Robert just stood there.

So I hauled myself out of bed, took the cup from him, and headed to the bathroom. I was able to fill the cup, and returned and gave it to Robert.

“I’ll…I’ll just take care of…this. I’ll come and check in on you later. Do you think you’ll be able to get the boys this afternoon?”

“I hope so,” I said. “I mean, I’ll do my best.”

“Just send me or Sandy a text if you don’t think you can.”

“Jacob’s got a game this afternoon,” I said. “I want to be there for that.”

Robert left me and I pulled the covers over my head. I could hear Joyce getting all upset about the drug test, but there are plenty of jobs that make you take drug tests regularly. Besides, there was plenty of drug testing going on when I was playing ball, so I’m used to it. And, like I told Robert, I was expecting it. It’s not like the test was going to show anything: I hadn’t had anything stronger than beer in weeks, unless you count those two Excedrin they made me take when they still believed I was having migraines.

I reckon I fell asleep, since the next thing I remember was someone knocking, not on the sliding glass door, but on the open bedroom door.

I was pretty groggy, but, when I saw it was Maya, I sat up in bed and tried to look good for the boss, even with my hair all over the place and not having shaved in a couple days. I instinctively ran my fingers through my hair, but I knew it wasn’t going to make much of a difference.

“It’s ok, Hunter. It’s not like you’re going to be on camera.” She laughed a little; it is true that Maya looks different for the cameras than she does sometimes when she’s just home and no one’s gonna see her. Still, I’ve never seen Maya look like she just rolled out of bed, let alone like she couldn’t get out of bed. “I came to bring you the results of your test: all negative.”

“That’s good,” I said, “although I’m not surprised. But it’s cool.”

“Now we have to figure out how we’re going to help you out of this depression you’re in. Everyone goes through something like it. When the movie jobs dried up for me I went into quite a tailspin. But, with help, I got over it…and came up with the idea for the show. And that’s turned out pretty well, hasn’t it? There is life after depression, Hunter. Tell me about your therapist…and I hope he takes our insurance. I don’t want you paying another penny out of pocket when we pay a fortune for you to have medical insurance. I’m not going to say it was silly of you to want to hide it…it’s not the kind of thing anyone wants to admit to…and I imagine that’s even worse if you’re a man. I actually used to say I was having migraines too for a while; I don’t know why I didn’t think that you were covering up depression. Robert and I are sorry about thinking you were on drugs, but, even if we’re tucked away up here in San Marino, this is still Hollywood, and I’ve seen plenty of good-looking young men get sucked into using drugs and having promising careers come to an abrupt end.”

“You don’t have to worry about me and drugs. If nothing else, I have a friend who got into drugs and the next thing he knew he was being kept under lock and key as a slave.”

“You have some interesting friends,” Maya said. Then she said: “I don’t want to interfere with your therapy, but does your therapist have any idea what might be the underlying cause of the depression? You’re not unhappy here, are you?”

 “Not at all,” I said, practically jumping up in bed. “Except for being so depressed I can’t get out of bed some days, my life’s awesome. I just wish I could enjoy it,” I added, after a pause. Then I saw the clock. If I was going to get the boys in time – and get Jacob to his game – I needed to get a move on. I felt like I could just then, so I decided to take advantage of the moment. I told Maya I wasn’t blowing her off, but I did want the chance to do my job, and she said she understood and left me alone to get myself looking presentable. They say guys are supposed to look good when they look ‘rumpled’. I was hoping that was true, although the show was on what we call one of two “short hiatuses” we have during the year, so there wouldn’t be a camera to capture me hiding behind sunglasses (I had terrible circles under my eyes – I was just glad Maya didn’t bring me more potatoes to put on them) and a Dodger hat.

The next day, at Dr. Oliver’s, I reported back that my secret was out of the bag and that Joyce, Keaton, Robert and Maya now knew I was struggling with depression. (Okay, Joyce and Keaton knew a while ago, but I didn’t know they knew.)

“How does that make you feel?”

“Honestly? Relieved. It was also getting pretty dangerous with Maya and Robert: I was right when I said I thought they thought I was using drugs so much that I couldn’t get out of bed.”

“Do you feel ashamed now that people know?”

“Not too much,” I answered. “It’s better off this way.  I’m still not ready to tell my parents, though. And I definitely don’t want it to become public knowledge.”

“It might make an interesting segment on the show. Mental Health Awareness Month is coming up in May.” Dr. Oliver didn’t mention that Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month was in June, and, although it hasn’t gotten to be a segment on the show, it did get me back to blogging…as y’all can see.