RP: Talk Therapy

[shh_ernie]

Date: 14 September 2005
Characters: Ernie Macmillan, Orla Quirke
Location: Quirky Thoughts
Status: Private
Summary: Ernie has his only first therapy session with Orla.
Completion: Complete

Comments

[shh_orla]

Needless to say, she'd been surprised when Ernie had owled asking for an appointment time. She'd no clue what he wanted to talk to her about, but rather guessed it might have to do with his attack.

She answered the door with a soft smile, not wanting to put him off. "Good afternoon, Ernie. How are you doing today? Care for some tea? Water?" She led them into her front room, where he had the couch, two chairs and the chaise to chose from. "Sit wherever you like, I'll just go get our drinks."

[shh_ernie]

"Er...hello, Orla. I'm..." Truth be told, he didn't know how he was today. He'd slept fairly well last night, waking once briefly. Perhaps he was recovering on his own. "How are you?" he asked. "Did you have a nice time at the dance on Saturday?" While he'd seen her there, he hadn't had a chance to speak to her.

He absently asked for a water as he sat upon one of the chairs. In the movies, people were always laying on a couch, but there was little chance of Ernie doing that. He glanced around the front room as Orla went to fetch the drinks and drummed his fingers on his leg.

"Thank you," he said when she returned with a glass of water. He took a sip, wondering if he was supposed to begin speaking or wait for her to ask a question.

[shh_orla]

"Pretty good. Starting to get the hang of this apparition business." She wrinkled her nose. Splinching was not fun stuff. "The dance was very... unexpected. But I did enjoy myself. I take it you and Eleanor had a good time as well?" He seemed a bit nervous, but then, he'd never seemed the type to be willing to come to see a therapist.

She returned with two glasses of water, and handed one to Ernie, setting hers on the small table between them. She gave him a moment to swallow before starting into her normal confidentiality clause. "First let me tell you that you have doctor-patient privilege with what you tell me, and unless you expressly inform me otherwise, no one else will hear this. Not Eleanor, not anyone. Second, I don't take notes without permission, so there will be no record outside of what's in our heads, and I don't use a Pensieve, so this is as private as I can make it. Do you have any questions?"

[shh_ernie]

Ernie was a bit shocked that Orla never learned how to Apparate. But then again, Eleanor only knew because her father had taught her. And she couldn't side-along anyone. "Yes, we had a fantastic time," he replied, hint of a smile on his face. "We're going to have our wedding there on New Years' Eve."

He listened very carefully as she explained that everything that was going to be said (not that he was entirely convinced it would be much) would be confidential. "No," he answered, shaking his head. He took another sip of water. "Er...how does this work exactly?"

[shh_orla]

"How lovely!" Orla exclaimed, trying to imagine a post-Christmas gathering. She hoped there would be fireworks. It would be so nice for them. "That sounds like the perfect way to rin in the New Year."

"Well, that depends. Usually I ask what brought someone to see me, and we start with that and work our way into whatever might be asecondary, or subliminal cause of the problem." She folded her hands in her lap. "So, Ernie. What brought you to see me?" She'd listen as long as he needed to talk. Or as short.

[shh_ernie]

"Eleanor." He chewed on the inside of his cheek. "She thinks that talking to you will help...me." A longer drink of water as his mouth felt rather dry all of a sudden. "I've been having nightmares because of..." He paused. Perhaps Orla hadn't heard about what had happened. Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he explained, "I dunno know if you've heard or not. But I...had a spot of trouble...on patrol...several weeks ago." He swallowed hard. Suddenly the chair seemed very confining so he stood up. "Actually, it was quite serious. They didn't know if...er...I would..." He was not finishing that sentence; living through it was difficult enough.

[shh_orla]

Orla nodded. She did know, but it would best serve Ernie if he could verbalize it himself. When he paused, she said quietly, "They didn't know if you would live from your injuries?" She had heard hoow serious it was, but wasn't going to dwell on that. Instead, she'd focus on the dreams.

"Why don'y you tell me what happens in your dreams?" She asked gently. It was his most immediate concern, and if she could get him to talk about those, he might open up about the night he was attacked.

[shh_ernie]

Ernie nodded and swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he paced around the room. Finally, he shrugged. "The details go a bit fuzzy as soon as I'm awake." The feelings he had--the heart pounding, heavy breathing, sheer terror--upon waking stuck with him long after that. "But I...well, I'm not keen on going back to sleep afteward." That was all to which he was admitting. "I usually go downstairs and read or watch a movie. Until...things settle."

[shh_orla]

"Ok." Ernie was obviously resistant to the notion of pouring out his soul, so Orla was going to have to probe deeper. "Are there any memories you have of that night that stand out strongest? Any associations to smell, or sight, or sound that come out in your dream?" She watched him pace.

"About how long does it take you to, well, 'settle'? " She asked curiously. If he was continuously avoiding it, tha lag time in calming down was probably getting longer.

[shh_ernie]

He shook his head. "Well, just something he said. Called me 'boy-o.'" An involuntary shiver raced up his spine and he tried to shake it off. "Last night, I turned over, wrapped myself around Eleanor," he blushed here, "and fell back to sleep quickly. Other nights..." A shrug. "I can watch an entire movie before I go back to bed."

He stopped pacing for a moment and looked at Orla. "Can you...make them go away?"

[shh_orla]

"Hmm." Something that implied inferioirity might tap into any previously existing complexes Ernie might have. Or it might just sound creepy as hell and spook him. "When he calls you that, do you feel helpless to stand up against him? Or are you able to shake him off for a time?"

She nodded, smiling a little when he blushed. "That's good. You're replacing a negative state with a positive one. How long have the nightmares been going on?" She had a feeling it was largely Eleanor's influence that got him there. She made a note to ask if Eleanor would join them next time.

"We" She stressed, "can work together to gain you a measure of control over them. I can't guarantee they'll go away, because that's not how this works. But I can work with you to develop a routine for when this happens, so it doesn't control your life." And having that measure of control, of safety back would be huge.

"Have you returned to work?" SHe asked. Being back on the front lines would keep it fresh in his mind.

[shh_ernie]

Hmm? What did that mean? Couldn't she just say what was on her mind? Unless he was beyond help; it would likely be unprofessional to say something like that.

"Since the hospital." That sounded terrible, even to him. It'd been a month now. "And some nights are worse than others." He tried not to look too disappointed when she said that she couldn't guarantee they'd go away. But at this point he really had nothing left to lose. It couldn't get much worse.

He turned and pretended to be engrossed in something on the wall. A picture, a nick, some smudged paint, it didn't much matter. "I..." He didn't want to sound as if he were a quitter. "I...left. Eleanor and I decided it was...better...for both of us."

[shh_orla]

Oh dear. If it had taken him that long, he likely really didn't want to be here. It would make her job that much harder.

"What makes some nights worse? Are you not able to wake up right away?" She noticed the look on his face, but she wanted to get all the information she could before she tried to reassure him that he could overcome this.

She saw him look away, and stood, moving to stand in front of him. She made a point of making eye contact. "That's a very smart decision, Ernie. You need some time to come back from this, it's nothing to be ashamed of. If you were to come face to face against something like this too soon, you'd be in more danger. Really, its ok that you aren't working right now." She smiled and gave his arm a squeeze.

"Now, you haven't told me exactly what happened that night, and I wouldn't push you on it, but the sooner you verbalize it, the sooner you can confront the memory, and take its power to hurt you away." She looked at him ernestly, hoping he might open up.

[shh_ernie]

"Some nights he actually kills me," Ernie's voice wasn't much above a whisper. He hadn't told anyone that, especially not Eleanor. She didn't need any reminders that he had almost died. "He mouths something and there's a flash of green and..." Inside his trouser pockets, his fists were clenched. "I...I wake up. Those...they're the nights I don't go back to sleep for a long time."

He didn't feel smart. He felt useless. They couldn't afford for him not to work. Shaking off her touch, he began pacing again. "It's not alright. We need money. I've been looking for a new job, but..." He shook his head. "Nothing's panned out as of yet."

Talk about it? Was shemad? The last thing he wanted was to tell anyone about that horrible night. The closest he'd come was when he'd first regained consciousness in the hospital. Another shake of his head. More violently this time. He wiped his sleeve across his eyes and then glanced at his watch. "I...I should be going. I'm...sorry to have taken up your time, Orla."

[shh_orla]

She winced. That would keep anyone up a night and she said as much. "That's a hard thing to just brush off and go back to regular life. You came face to face with your own mortality. Give yourself a break. No one can bounce back that quickly from it."

She moved back across the room to sit, watching him pace. "Which will matter more in the long run, your mental health or the size of your bank account?" She asked a bit rhetorically. "Time isn't your enemy, Ernie. Let it work on this. Dull the memories." She took a sip fo water.

She stood, moving to block his path. "Ernie, trust me when I say talking about it helps. If you keep it all bottled up inside, it will keep festering. It needs to be lanced,a dn healed." She talked faster, trying to get him to focus. "You need to trust me, I've done this before. You're not the first person who has had nightmares. And the sooner they talked, the sooner they could get to what was keeping the nightmares at the forefront of their mind." She hoped he was listening, but she wasn't optimistic.

[shh_ernie]

Ernie chuckled bitterly. "Spoken as only a person who doesn't have money worries could. Eleanor is trying to establish her shop. We're getting married in three-and-a-half months. I was the one with the steady paycheck. I can't afford to sit around and wait for the memories to dull." Why couldn't any of the women he knew seem to understand that?

Who were these people who were cured by sitting around and talking? He'd really like to meet them. However, after the speech about confidentiality she'd given him, he knew that she wouldn't say. "I..." He didn't want to be rude. "I...I'll think about...what you've said today." He paused. "Er...what...what do I owe you for your time?"