Mary and Halley (sequel to When Mary Met Halley)

fourteen

I picked Halley up the next day and got her settled at home, then headed to therapy.

I didn't want to go. I didn't want to talk about things, or deal with med changes, or examine myself or my motives. I just wanted to sleep.

But Halley had hugged and kissed me and said gently, "Tell her you're sad, that you're not yourself. She can help. You deserve to feel good."

So I got there at eleven and slunk into the room, depositing myself into my usual spot and telling Therapist Sarah everything, from the insecurities to the negative thoughts to the nightmares, of which I'd had more.

"I'm a mess," I concluded somewhat miserably, sipping my fizzy water. They weren't that good but somehow they tasted right for therapy.

Sarah laughed kindly. "You're not a mess, Mary. You've had some difficult situations arise, that's all. You're handling it well."

I gave her a skeptical look. "I couldn't even give her the shot," I pointed out, the hugest thing in my head right then. 

She adjusted her tortoiseshell glasses. "And so Natasha gave it to her, and she was fine," she reminded me.

"But what if it happens again and Natasha's not there?" Couldn't she see that this was the problem?

"I see," she said thoughtfully. She crossed her legs and tapped her fingers on her knee. "Would it help to practice with an empty pen, do you think? I could get one."

The thought appealed to me. "Maybe," I admitted. "But what about everything else? These thoughts are borderline voices. And the visions are so real, like they're scenes I've been at. And I'm so sad, about stupid shit. I think my brain is broken." I tried to sound like I was joking, but here came the waterworks. 

"My poor brave girl," Sarah said firmly, coming to sit next to me with the Kleenex and hugging me with one arm. "Your brain is not broken. It might be unbalanced, but we can fix that, or at least make it a lot better. Especially the intrusive thoughts."

"I wish we had a memory eraser in real life, or like one of those Men In Black flashy things," I said, taking some tissues from the Toy Story box. 

"I know," she said, giving me another squeeze before returning to her chair. She jotted something down on her clipboard. "But until then, let's look at your medications; I'm going to make a few adjustments. They shouldn't throw you off too much while you're getting used to them."

"Okay." I played with the tab on my can. "I just, I look at Paramjeet, who has real problems, and real reasons to be depressed, and my life is going well, and I have Halley and the kids and everything. So why can't I be happy?"

Her compassion was never ending. "Your struggles are still valid, even if others are struggling more," she reminded me. "Okay?"

I nodded, blowing my nose. 

"And while things are indeed going well, you still have a lot going on, with Hazel, and Jasper being upset, and Paramjeet. Then to have your PTSD triggered, it's no wonder you're having a hard time."

Being reminded of those things helped. "I guess," I allowed. 

"But we'll get you feeling better, just watch. I always do, don't I?" she teased.

"You do," I admitted, because it was eventually true. 

"Freezing is a common reaction with PTSD. You feel the same feelings of helplessness and fear that occurred during the accident, and you become physically incapable of moving, just as you felt. I'm going to give you a list of things that you can do if it happens again, and I'd like to implement something called tapping therapy, which we can start next week. Most importantly, know that it's not your fault."