Light in the Shadows
Page 10
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
And for what? Because I thought, in my twisted head, that Maggie had betrayed me. I hadn’t been able to see that she was confused and scared and had really only been trying to help me. And that is where the guilt came in. Because it started that I had been thinking about Maggie and how for a brief second it had been the two of us, together, ready to take on anything. Then my mind went to that night. And all I could see was the darkness. The moment when all I wanted to do was die. And I had lost it. The panic attack swept me away in its merciless tide.
My anger picked up a notch. Why couldn't I just think of Maggie? Why couldn't I simply remember her without all the other nasty stuff, like guilt and shame and the soul sucking anguish? I only wanted to think of how much I loved that beautiful girl before I had turned our worlds upside down.
Maybe this was my punishment for being so weak and selfish. Karma was a vindictive jerk.
Because Maggie was my trigger. And it wasn't a good one. And I hated that my f**ked up mind had taken something so wonderful and warped it into...well....something ugly. Something that only served to remind me of what I couldn’t have. Something that I was trying desperately to be healthy enough for but deep down worried I never would be. No one had ever accused me of being a Pollyanna. I was not a glass half full kind of guy. But Dr. Todd was hell bent on changing that. And damn it, I needed him to.
I growled in frustration and tugged at my hair. I struggled to take a deep breath and loosened the grip I had on my scalp. I could do this. I could work through this maze of crap.
After a few minutes I sat up and let my hands hang limp between my knees. “Tell me something positive about that event in your life. Think, Clay. Think really hard. The thing about the shadows is that they're not all darkness. You need to have light to have shadows. So just look for it,” Dr. Todd encouraged me.
That was his mantra. Finding the light in the dark shadows inside me. He really should have T-shirts made or something. It made me think of a gospel choir raising their hands to the sky singing, “I’ve seen the light! Hallelujah I’ve seen the light!”
But I got what he was saying. But there were times it was impossible to do (with my natural pessimism and all). But I did as he asked this time. I thought hard about the good stuff.
“I guess if I hadn't bottomed out, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't finally be getting the help I need,” I said finally, feeling a bit proud of myself in being able to verbalize something good in that horrible mess.
Dr. Todd grinned, obviously pleased with my statement. “Exactly! The choices we make in our life don't have to define us. It's what we learn from them that's important. You making the decisions that you did, while the fact that they were made in pain doesn't change, the outcomes are what you make of them. And you have to remember that you are making significant strides in your mental health. You are miles ahead of being the young man who entered this facility almost ninety days ago,” he said with total sincerity. I could only nod my head.
“I have been hesitant to prescribe you any other medications, with your history with substance abuse. But given the severity of your panic attacks, I’m going to prescribe you a beta blocker, which is a mild tranquilizer that can be used to treat the physical symptoms of your anxiety. It isn’t habit forming but I would still only like them used as a last resort. I truly believe we can work on your triggers through therapeutic self-talk and relaxation techniques.” Great more drugs. Just when I wasn’t feeling crazy enough.
“The staff will know you’ve been authorized to use them when necessary. But again, Clay, I urge you to only use them if all else fails,” Dr. Todd said firmly and I nodded again, feeling like there was nothing else to say really.
I was relieved when Dr. Todd said our time was up. Today's session had left me feeling wrung out. He handed me my journal. “Keep using it, Clay,” he said as he opened his office door.
“Sure,” I responded, tucking the notebook under my arm. I headed out into the hallway and stopped. I didn't want to go back to my room. It was after two and I knew Tyler hadn't left for his group yet. I didn’t feel like company and I knew I wouldn’t be any.
My feet started moving and I found myself heading out a side door into a tiny garden off of the common room. It was entirely fenced in with three benches in a semi-circle around a stone bird bath. Sure the space was small, but it was a nice spot.
It was the middle of March and in the mid-80's. Perfect Florida weather. I sat on one of the benches, putting the notebook down beside me. Leaning back, I stretched my legs out in front of me, crossing them at the ankle. Linking my hands behind my neck, I tilted my face up and closed my eyes. The heat felt good. And the kinks that had knotted up during my session with Dr. Todd started to unravel a bit.
I could hear the television blaring inside the common room, but other than that it was pretty damn peaceful out here. The last hour had been brutal. I had been doing really well over all for the last four weeks. Sure, therapy and support groups got old after a while. Who wouldn’t get sick of relieving the shit in your life day after day? There were times I wished I could pack it all in and just say screw this. But for the most part, I was glad I was here.
I was quickly approaching the end of my ninety day stay. What the future held after that, I couldn’t tell. I knew that Dr. Todd and the rest of the staff would like me to stay on for a full six months. I just wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Then after that, I’d most likely be recommended for a group home to begin my outpatient treatment. Given the reason I was here in the first place, I should be thankful I wasn't in a straight jacket at a psych ward. I guess my parents' money was good for something. Because of their fear of public humiliation, I had been carted off to the secluded Grayson Center. And it had been the best thing they could have ever done for me. Even if their motives were purely selfish.
My anger picked up a notch. Why couldn't I just think of Maggie? Why couldn't I simply remember her without all the other nasty stuff, like guilt and shame and the soul sucking anguish? I only wanted to think of how much I loved that beautiful girl before I had turned our worlds upside down.
Maybe this was my punishment for being so weak and selfish. Karma was a vindictive jerk.
Because Maggie was my trigger. And it wasn't a good one. And I hated that my f**ked up mind had taken something so wonderful and warped it into...well....something ugly. Something that only served to remind me of what I couldn’t have. Something that I was trying desperately to be healthy enough for but deep down worried I never would be. No one had ever accused me of being a Pollyanna. I was not a glass half full kind of guy. But Dr. Todd was hell bent on changing that. And damn it, I needed him to.
I growled in frustration and tugged at my hair. I struggled to take a deep breath and loosened the grip I had on my scalp. I could do this. I could work through this maze of crap.
After a few minutes I sat up and let my hands hang limp between my knees. “Tell me something positive about that event in your life. Think, Clay. Think really hard. The thing about the shadows is that they're not all darkness. You need to have light to have shadows. So just look for it,” Dr. Todd encouraged me.
That was his mantra. Finding the light in the dark shadows inside me. He really should have T-shirts made or something. It made me think of a gospel choir raising their hands to the sky singing, “I’ve seen the light! Hallelujah I’ve seen the light!”
But I got what he was saying. But there were times it was impossible to do (with my natural pessimism and all). But I did as he asked this time. I thought hard about the good stuff.
“I guess if I hadn't bottomed out, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't finally be getting the help I need,” I said finally, feeling a bit proud of myself in being able to verbalize something good in that horrible mess.
Dr. Todd grinned, obviously pleased with my statement. “Exactly! The choices we make in our life don't have to define us. It's what we learn from them that's important. You making the decisions that you did, while the fact that they were made in pain doesn't change, the outcomes are what you make of them. And you have to remember that you are making significant strides in your mental health. You are miles ahead of being the young man who entered this facility almost ninety days ago,” he said with total sincerity. I could only nod my head.
“I have been hesitant to prescribe you any other medications, with your history with substance abuse. But given the severity of your panic attacks, I’m going to prescribe you a beta blocker, which is a mild tranquilizer that can be used to treat the physical symptoms of your anxiety. It isn’t habit forming but I would still only like them used as a last resort. I truly believe we can work on your triggers through therapeutic self-talk and relaxation techniques.” Great more drugs. Just when I wasn’t feeling crazy enough.
“The staff will know you’ve been authorized to use them when necessary. But again, Clay, I urge you to only use them if all else fails,” Dr. Todd said firmly and I nodded again, feeling like there was nothing else to say really.
I was relieved when Dr. Todd said our time was up. Today's session had left me feeling wrung out. He handed me my journal. “Keep using it, Clay,” he said as he opened his office door.
“Sure,” I responded, tucking the notebook under my arm. I headed out into the hallway and stopped. I didn't want to go back to my room. It was after two and I knew Tyler hadn't left for his group yet. I didn’t feel like company and I knew I wouldn’t be any.
My feet started moving and I found myself heading out a side door into a tiny garden off of the common room. It was entirely fenced in with three benches in a semi-circle around a stone bird bath. Sure the space was small, but it was a nice spot.
It was the middle of March and in the mid-80's. Perfect Florida weather. I sat on one of the benches, putting the notebook down beside me. Leaning back, I stretched my legs out in front of me, crossing them at the ankle. Linking my hands behind my neck, I tilted my face up and closed my eyes. The heat felt good. And the kinks that had knotted up during my session with Dr. Todd started to unravel a bit.
I could hear the television blaring inside the common room, but other than that it was pretty damn peaceful out here. The last hour had been brutal. I had been doing really well over all for the last four weeks. Sure, therapy and support groups got old after a while. Who wouldn’t get sick of relieving the shit in your life day after day? There were times I wished I could pack it all in and just say screw this. But for the most part, I was glad I was here.
I was quickly approaching the end of my ninety day stay. What the future held after that, I couldn’t tell. I knew that Dr. Todd and the rest of the staff would like me to stay on for a full six months. I just wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Then after that, I’d most likely be recommended for a group home to begin my outpatient treatment. Given the reason I was here in the first place, I should be thankful I wasn't in a straight jacket at a psych ward. I guess my parents' money was good for something. Because of their fear of public humiliation, I had been carted off to the secluded Grayson Center. And it had been the best thing they could have ever done for me. Even if their motives were purely selfish.
