way. You blame yourself for things that are not now and never have been your fault. You need to learn how to stop taking that blame and then figure out how to love yourself for the totally amazing guy I know you to be.”
I flush and stare again at the cup of water I’ve been nervously rotating in my hands.
“Did you know I went to therapy, too, Aves? In the time between moving out and coming back to get you, I saw a counselor.” He chuckles slightly at my look of total astonishment. “Oh, yes, I sure did. It was tough, but absolutely necessary, just like for you. The difference being, I’m right here to give you support. I’m here to tell you what an incredible little brother you are and how much I love you. And I’m here to hold you while you cry when it’s hard and to cheer you on when it starts getting easier.
“Right now I know you’re doing this because I asked—okay, coerced—you to, but pretty soon you’ll be doing it because you’re feeling better about yourself and you’re putting your demons and doubts in the past where they belong. I promise you that as painful as it is to start the process, you’ll be so much stronger and feel so much better after a while. If you can just hang in there until then, you’ll be so very glad you did.”
I never knew, never even suspected that Sam had undertaken counseling. I can’t even fathom such a thing, but I know he would never lie to me about it, which also means he wouldn’t ever lie to me about it making him happier and healthier. The questions for me are both simple and complex. Can I force myself to go through this? And what happens when I’m done? Sam has always tried to convince me that the things that were done to me, the beatings and abuse, that all those things had more to do with my abusers than with me, that I wasn't responsible for any of it, that I never asked for it to happen. As much as part of me wants to believe him, I’ve always known better. It was and is because of me. Because I am not supposed to be here.
I don’t believe that therapy can possibly change that fact, but maybe the good doctor can teach me ways to cope better when it does happen again. Maybe Dr. Moorhead can even help reduce the level of fear I feel every day in every situation. And maybe, just maybe, she can help end the nightmares. That alone could make it worth going through emotional hell three times a week.
Slowly, I meet Sam’s eyes. “Okay, I’ll take my meds like I’m supposed to and I’ll give this head shrinking stuff a try.”
I’m rewarded with a relieved smile and a tight hug. If only I could stay safe in my big brother’s arms always , I think.
When Dr. Moorhead returns, she smiles slightly at me and retakes her seat beside her desk. “We’re going to try something a little different today, Avery. I can see with my own eyes that you’re still very distressed about coming to see me, so I’d like to explore some options that might lower your stress levels. Are you okay with that?”
Still somewhat embarrassed by my panic attack, I merely nod, keeping my eyes on the carpet in front of me.
“Good. First, I think it would be advisable for you to take a Valium about thirty minutes before our sessions are scheduled to start. Now this isn’t something I want you to make a habit of, but I think for the next few sessions, at least until you get used to being here and talking with me, it will help to alleviate some of your anxiety about being here. Are we agreed?”
I smother a smile, wondering why I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t really like to take the Valium because it seems like another crutch and it sometimes makes my mind foggy, but in this case, it’s the perfect reason to take them. “Okay.”
“Excellent. Now, tell me something that makes you happy, something you enjoy doing more than anything else.”
Surprised, I glance at her green silk blouse before finding the carpet again. “Puzzles,” I croak. “I like to do jigsaw
I flush and stare again at the cup of water I’ve been nervously rotating in my hands.
“Did you know I went to therapy, too, Aves? In the time between moving out and coming back to get you, I saw a counselor.” He chuckles slightly at my look of total astonishment. “Oh, yes, I sure did. It was tough, but absolutely necessary, just like for you. The difference being, I’m right here to give you support. I’m here to tell you what an incredible little brother you are and how much I love you. And I’m here to hold you while you cry when it’s hard and to cheer you on when it starts getting easier.
“Right now I know you’re doing this because I asked—okay, coerced—you to, but pretty soon you’ll be doing it because you’re feeling better about yourself and you’re putting your demons and doubts in the past where they belong. I promise you that as painful as it is to start the process, you’ll be so much stronger and feel so much better after a while. If you can just hang in there until then, you’ll be so very glad you did.”
I never knew, never even suspected that Sam had undertaken counseling. I can’t even fathom such a thing, but I know he would never lie to me about it, which also means he wouldn’t ever lie to me about it making him happier and healthier. The questions for me are both simple and complex. Can I force myself to go through this? And what happens when I’m done? Sam has always tried to convince me that the things that were done to me, the beatings and abuse, that all those things had more to do with my abusers than with me, that I wasn't responsible for any of it, that I never asked for it to happen. As much as part of me wants to believe him, I’ve always known better. It was and is because of me. Because I am not supposed to be here.
I don’t believe that therapy can possibly change that fact, but maybe the good doctor can teach me ways to cope better when it does happen again. Maybe Dr. Moorhead can even help reduce the level of fear I feel every day in every situation. And maybe, just maybe, she can help end the nightmares. That alone could make it worth going through emotional hell three times a week.
Slowly, I meet Sam’s eyes. “Okay, I’ll take my meds like I’m supposed to and I’ll give this head shrinking stuff a try.”
I’m rewarded with a relieved smile and a tight hug. If only I could stay safe in my big brother’s arms always , I think.
When Dr. Moorhead returns, she smiles slightly at me and retakes her seat beside her desk. “We’re going to try something a little different today, Avery. I can see with my own eyes that you’re still very distressed about coming to see me, so I’d like to explore some options that might lower your stress levels. Are you okay with that?”
Still somewhat embarrassed by my panic attack, I merely nod, keeping my eyes on the carpet in front of me.
“Good. First, I think it would be advisable for you to take a Valium about thirty minutes before our sessions are scheduled to start. Now this isn’t something I want you to make a habit of, but I think for the next few sessions, at least until you get used to being here and talking with me, it will help to alleviate some of your anxiety about being here. Are we agreed?”
I smother a smile, wondering why I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t really like to take the Valium because it seems like another crutch and it sometimes makes my mind foggy, but in this case, it’s the perfect reason to take them. “Okay.”
“Excellent. Now, tell me something that makes you happy, something you enjoy doing more than anything else.”
Surprised, I glance at her green silk blouse before finding the carpet again. “Puzzles,” I croak. “I like to do jigsaw
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