Letters From A Dead Man

6 | ptsd

May 3rd, 10:27 am

If looks could kill I'd be halfway to hell by now with the look Ash is currently directing my way. I don't know what I did to piss her off this time but it doesn't look good on my end.

"Ash would you stop acting like a child and just tell me why you're so mad." I snap.

Her glare only deepens at my words before she huffs and turns her head on me. I sigh in annoyance at her pettiness, gripping the ends of my hair in my hand.

Ash texted me last night asking to hang out today. I only agreed since I know how worried she's probably been all week I've been gone. I haven't seen the girls since that day because their so busy with school and I didn't want to burden them anymore than I already have.

I was looking forward to seeing Ash today but all she's done is glare at me since I stepped out of the apartment.

I grasp her shoulder and spin her around, holding her in front of me before she can escape. "Look, I'm sorry for whatever I did to upset you but I can't make it better if you keep ignoring me. You're the one that wanted to come out today not me."

She sighs and drops her head onto my shoulder. "I'm just worried about you Casey. I told Asa he should take you to the hospital but he didn't do anything and I'm scared that what happened was more than just a panic attack."

She hugs me to her and I'm quick to hug her back. I run my hand soothingly up and down her back as she grips my jacket tightly between her fingers, her body shaking with tears.

"I'm okay Ash. You don't have to worry about me." I say gently.

She pulls back slightly so I can see her face. Tears cover her cheeks and I wipe them away the best I can with one hand, as she continues to hold onto my jacket.

"I am worried about you. No one should have to go through what you did." She shakes her head as if to prove her point. "I think you should go to the hospital and at least see what they say. It might be better in the long run Case."

I sigh as I drop my forehead onto hers, my eyes closing as I focus on her warmth. I love Ashton like a sister and I know she loves me too, but her worry sometimes stresses me out.

"I will if it eases your mind."

She grasps my hand that is still placed on her cheek and nods furiously. "Please that's all I'm asking."

"Okay then. Let's go."

I start to pull her back in the direction of my apartment where her car is still parked. I know that if I don't go now then she'll just worry even more.

When we arrive at the hospital we're told to wait until Doctor Clark comes to get us. Casey goes to lead me to the waiting room but I refuse to sit in that room again. The memories of being here are still too fresh in my mind.

I end up waiting outside the building while Ash waits for the doctor. I know that if I went into that room I would just end up staring at the seat I sat in on that night, imagining myself still there. Or I'd probably have another panic attack.

"Mr. Black. It's good to see you again and healthy." A voice says from behind me.

I turn to see a tall man with blonde hair walking towards me. He's wearing a doctors coat with a lanyard and what looks like a pass around his neck.

"Do I know you?" I ask.

He tilts his head at me questioningly as I stare at him defensively. This man could be faking it for all I know.

"I'm the doctor that dealt with your case last Friday. I don't blame you for not recognizing me, that must have been a very traumatic evening." He replies. "You're friend Ashton told me you were out here so I came to get you."

He must have been the doctor who gave me Brookes note. "Oh."

"If you'd like we can speak out here. I know how uncomfortable you must be coming back here so soon."

I nod as I swallow thickly.

He sits on the bench beside where I'm standing and pats the seat. I sit next to him and clamp my hands together.

"So what brings you here so suddenly?" He asks.

I clear my throat and stare down at the ground, avoiding his eyes. "My friend wanted me to come. She was worried but now that I'm here I'm worried too."

I can feel him look at me. "Worried about what?"

"Last Monday I had a panic attack in school. Some guys in my class were watching a race video and I happened to overhear a part where someone was crashing. The sounds seemed to be the cause but I'm not sure." I tell him.

He hums softly beside me and I feel him shift into the bench. "Can you tell me what kind of symptoms you remember having at the time?"

I rack my brain for that day again, trying to remember what exactly happened. "I remember at first it felt like my entire body went cold, then I couldn't breath and I started to sweat. My entire body was shaking." I say. "I also remember that I started to recall the night of the accident. Seeing Brooke on the bed and the rain."

"What about before the attack. How did you feel during the day?" He asks.

"Like I didn't belong there. It feels like I'm a stranger to my own life and have just been looking through a window the entire time I've been alive." I say. "I don't feel like myself anymore."

I watch as the doctor pulls out a notebook and scribbles a few things down. He hands it to me when he's finished and I take it. "Those are the symptoms I can conclude from what you've told me." He says pointing at the list.

I read it carefully.

• Panic Attack
   - shortness of breath
   - sweating
   - dizziness
• Negative thoughts
• Loss of interest
• Avoidance
• Flashbacks

"What does this mean." I ask.

"It means I suspect you have a case of PTSD." He tells me. "Everyone experiences it differently but from my diagnosis of your current symptoms I'd say that's what this is. Usually it doesn't present itself for quite awhile, especially in men. But like I said everyone is different."

I'm shocked. I would have never expected for it to be this, for my life to be even more complicated. "What can you....do for me with this?"

He sighs. "Well technically in order to be diagnosed with PTSD you have to have been experiencing these symptoms for a month at the most. You seem to have experienced a few of them in a week."

I turn away from him once again and look back down at my hands.

"Also a doctor isn't someone who's supposed to be diagnosing you but luckily for you I have my Psychology degree and am authorized to do so. For now, I can prescribe you an anti anxiety medication for you to take whenever you feel overwhelmed. It may help to reduce the amount of attacks you have."

"Thank you." I mumble as I drop my head, my worry disappearing.

He pats me on the back before standing up. "I'll give the prescription to your friend. If you have anymore problems or questions you can contact me here. Come see me again in a month if you're still experiencing this. Then maybe we can discuss other methods."

"I will thank you Dr. Clark." I say as I look up at him once again.

He glances down at me over his shoulder, his hands placed in his coat pockets. "Sure thing." He grins at me before turning around and heading back to the doors. "See you around kid."

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I know this probably isn't completely accurate but it's fiction so don't come at me.