“What do you think that would achieve, Finley?”
I shrug. “They’d be alive; my OCD never would have kicked in and I’d be able to make simple decisions without suffering from the effects of some massive internal debate.”
He watches me intently, his gaze skirting over my face. He readjusts his position as he says, “Let’s focus on the second part for a minute.” He straightens his tie. “You are saying that if your parents were still alive, you never would have developed OCD, is that true?”
I give a single nod.
Dr. Madden’s head tilts to the side. “So, you’re saying that your parents’ passing is a catalyst for your OCD?”
“Well, if they were still here, I never would have developed this overactive need to please people and be so perfect for them that they would never think to get rid of me. I would be able to make decisions for myself without relying on the opinions of those around me, and instead simply just enjoy hearing their opinions.”
“This is interesting.” Dr. Maddens nods. “This is a very intriguing insight on your OCD, Finley.”
“It is?”
“Yes,” he confirms. “You’re incredibly aware of your triggers.”
“I have to be. I refuse to let them affect my family, so it’s my job to know what they are.”
“So, you’re concerned about the effect your OCD has on your family?”
“Yeah.” I give him a look and he clears his throat. After some moments of silence, he speaks again. “Okay, let me ask you this: do you ever stop to think that it’s your job to know what these triggers are so that they do not affectyou?”
I feel a cough get lodged in my throat. I swallow it down. “I suppose it never really occurred to me. I mean they’re my family, you know? I love them with everything I have. And I’ve already lost two of them.”
“But not because of you.”
True, but a moot point.
“And now there’s everything going on with Oakleigh, so I have even more reason to sort my shit out.”
“Oakleigh? Her name hasn’t come up in a while.”
Yeah, not for about eight months.
I take a deep breath and release it. It feels just as heavy as my feelings about everything we’ve been through so far. He takes his time taking everything in and assessing the information. I take that time to breathe deeply, looking around his office with an almost fond remembrance. When I started seeing Dr. Madden, I was only twenty-two, just back from college and sitting on a foundation of embarrassment and shame that had kept me company the entire four years I was away. He was far from the first therapist that I went to see. From the moment our parents died, Mom and Dad sent me to several different therapists, all of whom tried their best to convince me that the intrusive thoughts were easy to stop, if I simply just stopped convincing myself that they were there.
When I turned seventeen, I begged my parents to let it stop. I didn’t want to inconvenience them further by making them fork out more money, so instead I waited until I could afford it myself. And when the time came, thankfully Dr. Madden was the first one I came across on my search.
He lifts his head. “How would you summarize all of what you’ve just told me?”
“For anyone listening, it would probably sound as if I’m getting everything I want, which I suppose I am, but it’s more that I’m getting everything I want in the one way I didn’t want it.” My chuckle is sharp, again humorless. “Karma can be a bitch like that.”
With a low hum, he asks, “What is it that you are expecting to get out of this, Finn?”
It surprises me that it takes me so long to answer him, not because it’s a difficult question but rather because it is a question I thought I already had the answer to. I’ve spent weeks knowing that the angle consisted of two things—to see my mother carefree, and to get the woman that I have pined for for so long without ever once losing track of why.
And yet now something stops me from supplying Dr. Madden with the same answer I’ve been giving myself for weeks. It’s been a while since I looked inward; since I stopped and took the time to get on the same page with myself. Sure, it would be easy for me to blame it on how busy I’ve been—the time spent with Oakleigh mixed with buying the land from Nigel, working, and trying to make a final decision on whether to sell the company. However, the reality of the situation is that I simply no longer know what I want. I’m now at a point where it’s possible for me to have everything that I want, and now I’m starting to think that that might be too much.
“If I’m being honest, I’m not entirely sure.”
Dr. Madden nods, showing me that I just gave him the answer that he expected. I’m not surprised that by now the man can read me like an open book.
“Let’s talk more about your OCD,” he says.” What has that been like during this situation.”
I involuntarily suck in a breath, which already tells him everything that he needs to know. I tell him anyway. “It’s been tough. The thoughts are annoying and they caused my anxiety to spike as per usual, but they’ve stayed manageable. It’s the compulsions that have become worse over time.”
“You remember what I told you?” Dr. Madden asks.
