Submerge

B R E A K D O W N

Nathan's patience had its limits, and as much as he wanted to give Mason the space he needed, it was clear that Mason wasn't improving. If anything, he seemed to be spiraling further into his own despair. So, Nathan made the decision to intervene once again.

"Mason, I've set up an appointment with Dr. Henderson for you," Nathan said one morning over breakfast, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Mason looked up from his cereal, his expression unreadable. "I don't need a therapist, Nate. I'm fine."

Nathan's eyes narrowed with concern. "You're not fine, Mason. And it's okay to need help. Please, just go to this session."

With a reluctant nod, Mason agreed, knowing deep down that arguing was futile. That afternoon, he found himself back in Dr. Henderson's office, the familiar room a stark reminder of his previous attempts at therapy.

Dr. Henderson greeted him with a warm smile. "Welcome back, Mason. It's good to see you again."

Mason forced a smile, sinking into the plush armchair. "Hey, Dr. Henderson."

The therapist took a seat across from him, his gaze gentle yet probing. "How have you been, Mason?"

"Fine," Mason replied automatically, his voice flat.

Dr. Henderson raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. "Would you like to talk about what's been going on?"

Mason shook his head. "Not really."

Dr. Henderson leaned back in his chair, giving him space. "Okay. We don't have to talk about specifics if you don't want to. But I do want to help you, Mason. You've been through a lot."

Mason clenched his fists, feeling the familiar weight of guilt pressing down on him. "I just... I don't know how to fix things."

"Why do you feel like you need to fix everything?" Dr. Henderson asked gently.

"Because it's my fault," Mason said, his voice breaking. "Emma's death... it's my fault."

Dr. Henderson nodded, his expression compassionate. "Let's talk about that. Why do you feel it's your fault?"

Mason took a deep breath, the memories flooding back. "I was supposed to protect her. I was the champion swimmer. I should have saved her."

"You were also her brother, Mason. You loved her and wanted the best for her," Dr. Henderson said softly. "But accidents happen. It's not always someone's fault."

Mason shook his head, his eyes filling with tears. "No, it was my fault. If I wasn't so fucking high! I would've..."

Dr. Henderson leaned forward, his voice gentle but firm. "Mason, blaming yourself won't bring Emma back. It's important to understand the circumstances, but punishing yourself won't change the past."

"I don't deserve to move on," Mason whispered, his voice filled with anguish. "I failed her."

"Emma wouldn't want you to live like this, Mason," Dr. Henderson said softly. "She would want you to find peace and happiness. Guilt can be a powerful emotion, but it can also be destructive if you let it consume you."

Mason wiped his eyes, feeling a mix of anger and sadness. "How can I move on when every day I remember her drowning? When every night I see her face in my dreams?"

"By allowing yourself to grieve, Mason. By accepting that you did your best under the circumstances, and that it's okay to forgive yourself," Dr. Henderson said gently. "It's a process, and it takes time."

Mason shook his head, his mind screaming against the therapist's words. "I can't forgive myself. I don't deserve it."

Suddenly, the room seemed to close in around Mason. His chest tightened, his breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. His vision blurred as the walls of the office seemed to pulse with his racing heartbeat. He felt trapped, suffocating under the weight of his own guilt and despair.

"Look at me, Mason," Dr. Henderson said, his voice steady. " Just breathe with me."

Mason's eyes locked onto the therapist's, and he tried to match his breathing to Dr. Henderson's slow, measured inhales and exhales. Gradually, the tightness in his chest began to ease, and his breaths became less erratic.

After what felt like an eternity, the panic subsided, leaving Mason feeling drained and vulnerable. He slumped back in the chair, tears streaming down his face.

Dr. Henderson leaned forward, his expression filled with empathy. "Mason, I think it might help to start you on a low dose of antidepressants. They can help manage your anxiety and depression while we work through these issues together."

Mason hesitated, but then nodded. "Okay."