"I feel a little groggy, but okay."
"That's normal until your body levels out. Do you feel like you can wade through the panic a bit better?"
"Yeah, it's... thoughts used to be at a ten, now they're at like a five."
"That's good," Dr. Mason nods, writing something down. "It's supposed to turn down the volume, so you can focus on the logic."
They started me on a low-dose SSRI. I had resisted at first, negative connotations in my head of pills and being overmedicated and being a zombie, until Dr. Mason explained it to me in a better term. He has many patients who show great success and improvement with the proper combination of medicine.
And the more I thought about it, well, I'll doanythingto get back to my family.
He mentioned a sleep aid, but I declined that... for now. I want to manage the nightmares, and the SSRI seems to be helping, as well as Dr. Mason's techniques of talking myself through the nightmares.
When I wake up and feel the need to panic, I catch myself and talk myself through it.
My wife is safe. My boys are safe. I am safe.
"What about you in general?"
I pause. That's a little more difficult.
"I miss my wife. I miss my kids," I shrug, before huffing a laugh. "Ain't that funny. I spent a year neglecting them, purposefully distancing myself, and now... I miss them so much I want to cry. I miss my wife's laugh, her smile, her smell. I miss watching Liam and Noah play together. I miss watching basketball with Liam. I miss Noah showing me his latest painting. I miss family movie nights. I miss date nights. I miss kissing my wife. I miss having sex wit—"
I cut myself off, realizing my mouth moved faster than my brain, and Dr. Mason laughs.
"You're expressing very normal thoughts about your wife. It's okay."
I shrug, though the grin on my face stays.
"I think that's progress. For so long, your mind leaned into avoidance—if I'm not around my wife, the nightmares calm. The fear is more manageable. If I'm not around my family, if I don't think too much about them, I won't have nightmares. If I avoid my wife, maybe it won't hurt so bad if she dies."
I still flinch at that spoken out loud, but... I don't instantly spiral at it. I nod my head, agreeing with his correct words.
"You weren't managing the problem; you wereavoidingit. That was easier and less scary."
"I just... keep thinking of how badly I fucked this up. I spent a year separating myself, while my wife was practically begging to help me, to fix me, for me to just talk to her. She set up a couple's therapist appointment for us. She fought so hard for us and I..."
"Avoidance," Dr. Mason points out to me, and I nod.
"Now she's separating herself from me, and I want to hold on as tightly as I can."
Dr. Mason tilts his head.
"Do you want to talk about that today?"
I look at him questioningly.
"The neglect."
I flinch.
"What you did to your wife and your kids. Youdoneed to face that. You can't just avoid it. There's no healing in avoidance, Atlas, remember? That's the whole reason you're here in the first place."
I nod, gritting my teeth and trying to breathe.
"I want you to keep an open mind. I want you to remember our tools if you start panicking—feel it, walk through it, sit in it, focus on the facts. This is going to be hard, but you can do this. Iknowyou can."
“Okay,” I whisper.
