Who could ever resist those eyes of Iestyn's. No one Addy knew. "I promise," she said, though she wasn't sure how good her word was with him these days. She had promised him a lot that she'd turned around and fucked up. "Yeah, I reckon you've seen meds make all the difference with Henry, hmm? Well I guess it's a good thing. I'm going to be on them for a long time."
Addy scooted up the bed, crossing her legs underneath her. "Can you come sit with me?" she asked, facing him. Sure he was sitting, but this was a face-to-face conversation. "After the detox - which was fucking awful by the way, but I only have myself to blame, I met with a bunch of doctors. Or I guess...a psychiatrist and some medical doctors and a social worker and a bunch of psych nurses. Anyway. They did a bunch of evaluations and psych assessments and- I guess you got all the good genetics because I got the shitty ones. I don't just have depression, I have something called cyclothymia. Bipolar III."