Page 32 of The Blessing

Chapter 15

where is my mind

Now that I realize how much in my life I have to lose—I’ve decided to focus on becoming a better version of the man I’ve been for so long. The date I had with Ronnie exceeded every expectation I could’ve had. It made me realize that I’ve actually got the possibility of a real future with her. However, if I want to enjoy the future, I’ve got to let go of the past. There are so many things I haven’t dealt with, but then again, I haven’t truly faced my brother’s death, I haven’t really acknowledged the painful yearning I have for drugs and alcohol, and I haven’t confronted the lack of faith I have in myself. I’ve been a fuck-up for so long; I don’t know how to be normal. Fuck, I can barely think straight at all sitting here in this room!

This waiting room is suffocating. Neutral colors, empty chairs, and a shit-ton of paperwork that makes me want to run for the door. I feel so fucking claustrophobic as I sit alone—just waiting. The tension in my body is so amplified I feel if someone looks at me the wrong way I’ll fucking explode. My agitation must be obvious because the receptionist keeps shooting me glances as if she thinks I’m some dangerous psychopath. The thought almost makes me laugh. I run a shaky hand through my hair, pulling on the roots to ease some of the tension. I can’t believe I’m doing this. The older woman calls my name and I quickly get up and give her the paperwork I filled out. She gives me a curious once over before directing me toward the elevator.

With my heart in my throat, I enter the elevator and punch the button for the third floor. I’m fidgety as fuck on the ride up; unable to control my pathetic nerves. The elevator’s door opens to a stark white hallway lined with several offices. There’s something so impersonal about it, which makes me feel even more uncomfortable. It looks so fucking sterile—like a fucking hospital. As I walk down the hallway, I search for Dr. Russell’s office and find it at the very end. Dr. Ethan Russell, Ph.D., Clinical Psychologist. I stare at the nameplate on his door for a long time and rehearse what I’m going to say to him. “I’m fine, really. I’ve never been better.”

Finally, I press the doorbell and try to pull myself together. I’m fidgeting by the time he swings open the door, though it really didn’t take him that long for him to answer. He’s a short man with very severe features. He appears sturdy and somewhat reliable. I’m not sure if he looks relatable but he’s not as threatening as I imagined a shrink to be. He introduces himself with a voice that’s strong and unassuming. It takes a moment for my body to catch up with my mind, but I manage to move into his office and find it’s nothing like I imagined a psychologist’s office would look like. There isn’t a couch designated for patients to lie on or any of the shit I’ve seen in movies. Instead, there’s some chairs situated around a table and a desk in the corner with his degrees hanging above it. There are a couple of windows and plants, as if Dr. Russell was trying to make his office look “homey,” but it does nothing to ease my nerves.

“You can take a seat,” he says, gesturing to a chair across from him.

Fuck, I wasn’t even aware he’d sat down, and I was still standing—staring off into space. I take a seat and cross my arms in front of me as he pulls out a journal and a pen before asking me some general questions. He asks why I came to see him; I’m pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing. It’s not like I didn’t come here out of my own free will. However, as I sit in front of him, I find it hard to open up. I don’t like talking about myself. Honestly, I’ve never really had to do it much. Anyone in my life has pretty much already accepted me for the fuck-up I am. So, they don’t bother asking me any questions about why I turned out the way I did or what I plan to do with myself in the future. I tell Russell about my brother’s death and becoming Grey’s guardian, but I don’t give much detail and only say what is absolutely necessary.

“So, have you felt sort of ‘on stage’ since your return?”

I shrug my shoulders, not really understanding his question.

“Do people act nervous around you? Treat your like you’re a dangerous character?” When I don’t answer he looks down at the paperwork I filled out. “I see where you disclosed that you’ve had some trouble with drugs and alcohol in the past.”

Finally, I answer his question. “My parents knew about it when I was in high school, but they’ve got no idea how bad it got before I returned home, here to Evergreen. My mom’s been watching me since I got back. Constantly waiting for me to fuck-up. I’ve changed since then. I’ve had to. She just doesn’t understand that.”

“She believes you’ll go back to your old habits?”

I give him a curt nod and sit up a bit straighter in my seat. “She suspects I will. I’ve been clean since I’ve returned so she has no reason to be breathing down my neck.”

“Do you think that has something to do with you taking care of your nephew?”

“Yeah and I can understand her concern, but it’s just so fucking annoying. How can a person be expected to change, when everyone in their life is waiting for them to fail? She treats me as if I’ve failed already.”

“Do you think about alcohol?”

“All the time,” I say honestly, “but that doesn’t mean I’m drinking. I wouldn’t do that to Grey. He needs me.”

“Have you considered becoming part of a group. Sometimes it helps to be around people who are dealing with the same problems. You stated you don’t believe you were a true alcoholic, but say you’ve abused it for years. Do you think A.A. could be beneficial to you?”

I don’t want to stand in front of a group of strangers and talk about my issues. I’m not one of them. I’m able to let it go and move on. I haven’t fucking relapsed yet and don’t think I ever will. “Maybe,” I finally say, unable to really stomach the idea.

“Your brother died recently?”

“He died in a car accident with his wife. They were hit by a drunk driver and I’ve been taking care of their son ever since.”

“Do you like caring for the boy?”

“Yes, I love Greyson.” Just saying his name calms me down significantly. “To say it’s been difficult would be an understatement. I’ve turned my entire life around for him, and I still feel like I’m lacking in some way. Everything feels like an uphill battle and I can’t see it ever getting easier. It doesn’t help that I’ve got a mother who’s constantly watching me and waiting for me to fail.”

“Do you feel as if your parents aren’t giving you a fair chance to succeed?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve given them every reason to not trust me, so I guess I shouldn’t blame them for their cautious behavior. It’s just so hard to do the right thing when everyone is expecting you to fail anyway. I’ve been working full-time and it’s still hard to make ends meet. My mother just treats it like it’s one big joke. I think she wants me to fail so she can take Grey.”

He stares at me for a long moment before asking, “Haven’t you received some sort of compensation? Greyson should be entitled to benefits after the death of both of his parents.”

I stare at him, feeling so fucking foolish all of a sudden. Why didn’t I look into any of that? Grey being eligible for benefits never occurred to me and I feel like a complete idiot because of that. Of course, my brother would’ve made sure his son was financially looked after. Maybe I was just too busy to even consider it. Fuck, I need to pull my head out of my ass.

“I haven’t looked into it,” I finally mutter.

Dr. Russell nods and there’s not a single bit of judgment on his face as he observes me. “So, Trevor, what are you looking to get out of these sessions? There must be some reason why you’ve wanted to talk to me that goes deeper than dealing with your brother’s death.”