AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Nope. I’m not thinking that.
I don’t think that.
I am strong. I have purpose. I am alive.
“Laurie was playing, and he fell into an old well on the family ranch; well, it’s Micah’s ranch.”
“Your brother’s husband.”
“Yeah.” I scrubbed at my eyes—this was all too complicated. “I couldn’t help in any way. I couldn’t rescue someone who needed me, and it was on my watch, and I couldn’t keep up with him and his friend. They ran off, and, well…” I tapped my knee. “I don’t do a lot of running now.”
“So, this incident occurred, and you felt powerless, and you blame your physical limitation.”
“Exactly. I’ve spent so much time proving to myself that I’m more than capable of overcoming the loss of half my leg, that it shocked me to the core. It’s set me back, made me rethink, made me cautious, shaky, as if I’m expecting to fail, and the helplessness of that moment is just shit.”
She nodded. “You seem to have a handle on your thought processes.”
I swallowed hard. “That’s the problem, in black and white I know what I’m doing to myself, and why I’m circling the drain, but my thoughts are dark. I’ve been down that road before, where everything was so dark after the accident that I ended up overdosing.”
She paused a moment. “Do you feel suicidal now, Chris?”
“God, no, I have everything to live for. I’m happy. The thought of not seeing my family grow old.” I shuddered. “No suicidal ideation,” I said, using the term I recalled from previous counseling. “I can see what I’m doing. Rationally, I know how to stop it, but I have behavioral dysregulation.”
Susan’s gaze was unwavering, understanding. “Using terms like ideation and dysregulation sounds like you’re very self-aware, Chris, and that you clinically understand where you’re at right now. Recognizing patterns in yourself is winning half the battle.”
“I know.” There was a knot of emotions in my chest, and words came out in a rush. “I just keep thinking I should have done more, you know? To save Laurie. And after the accident, with the prosthetic… sometimes, I feel like less of a man. Weak.”
Susan leaned forward, her expression kind. “Chris,” she said, “you’re a survivor. You’ve been through so much. Your journey, the resilience you’ve shown, that’s your real strength.”
I shook my head, unconvinced. “Doesn’t feel like it. I feel as if I failed.”
“Your worth isn’t based on what you can or cannot do in extreme situations,” she continued. “You matter because of who you are, not because of what happened with a child you said you couldn’t help.”
I looked down, struggling to accept her words.
“So, take me back a little bit, tell me about before.”
“Before the well, or before the accident?”
She considered me carefully, and I could almost see her brain working—did wereallyhave to go back to the car crash, losing one of my closest friends, being caught in a burning vehicle, dragged out to survive when I wasn’t sure I wanted to live at all. She seemed to decide the same as me—we didn’t need to go that far back.
The conversation flowed from then on, touching upon my closer-than-close interfering, caring, annoying, loving, family and my work, which I loved. The only stumbling block was when she probed about personal relationships, and I hesitated, unsure of what I would even tell her. My last relationship, with Yan-the-asshole, had been at least two years ago, and I’d made it work for a while, until he’d decided it was better to move on. He wanted marriage and kids, and decided for himself that this was something I could never give him, or cope with.
Fuck him.
“I don’t have a significant other right now,” I said, and she nodded. “But I have had relationships since the accident, so there’s that.” I got in there before she could ask because that was what counselors did. They always wanted to know how much I’d allowed into my life, or how much I’d been capable of. “I’ve had a sex life and all that,” I added, also to pre-empt the question. Not that this was something I’d enjoyed with another person since Yan had left; in fact, me and my right hand were very well acquainted.
“So, can you tell me a bit about the support network you have outside of family.”
“My colleagues at work, and I have friends; my best friend is… well I guess that’s probably Levi up at my brother-in-law’s ranch. But mostly, it’s my family. I’m one of five siblings, and we’re close.”
“Have you talked to Levi about how you’re feeling right now?”
“No.” That would be an X against my name. My first counselor—the one way back post-accident, the one who’d talked me through me not wanting to live at all—said I should concentrate on forming healthy relationships outside of family. Said that talking to people not related to me would give me fresh perspective. But what could I do when I had siblings who always wanted to be part of my life to the point where sometimes it was overwhelming.
Somehow this latest thing though… the self-pitying part that was so freaking stupid… wasn’t what I wanted to share with Levi. When the two of us bonded over horses, we sometimes talked about personal issues, but mostly, we just enjoyed the riding. He wouldn’t want me burdening him with every single shitty thought that had emerged since the well incident about me being a failure. That was why I was here talking to a professional.
She smiled at me. “Okay, Chris, let’s dig deeper.”
