Page 32 of Changing Tides

“Oh hi, Liam. Come on in. I don’t have any other appointments until 10 a.m. so Angie isn’t here yet.” He shuffles in and turns on the lights. He walks behind the counter and switches off the answering service on the desk phone. Then he goes into the single bathroom and comes back a moment later with a filled watering can and mills about hydrating the house plants. It’s like I’m watching Ellie’s counterpart. Finally, he puts the can back and turns to me. “Let’s go in my office, shall we?” he offers, and then turns toward the small hallway.

I follow him as he turns on his office light, opens the blinds, and cracks the window before sitting down behind his desk. Doc is a creature of habit. I’m observing him do the things he very likely does every morning, with the same thoughtful care. I can’t think of anything I do so methodically besides taking care of Lucy and going to the gym. I bet there’s a sense of calm in the consistency of it all. I plop on the couch and lean back, waiting for him to speak.

“How are you, Liam?” he asks me, his brow furrowing with concern.

“Today, I am okay,” I tell him. I wait for him to ask something else and when he doesn’t, I continue. “I guess I’ve been stressed lately because I’m having a lot of dreams about Cara.”

He nods and writes something down. “Mm-hmm…and what do the dreams entail?” He peers at me from behind his glasses.

“Usually, it’s us right before we get in my car the night she died. I am trying to convince her to do something else instead of going to the game. I try to keep her from getting in the car, but she always wins.” I rub my hands over my eyes and down my face.

“I see.” Doc makes another note on his paper.

“But this last dream was erratic,” I continue. “I was standing on my front steps, trying to convince her not to go to the game, and I saw what our life might have been like together if we skipped it. I saw us going to college, getting married, and then having a baby. I felt so happy in the dream that if I’d have woken up right then, I would have been thrilled. But then we were in my car leaving the hospital with our new baby. It was my old car so there was no passenger seat for the baby because Melanie was also there. We were back in the same spot the crash happened, the same music is playing, but a baby is crying in the background and I woke up to the sound of the crash. When I woke up, I was crying.” I shift my body so I am laying down on the couch now. Just recounting the dream was exhausting for me.

“These dreams are definitely stress-induced, Liam. I know you don’t want to be medicated but you need to reduce stress in your life. Tell me a bit about what you’re doing leading up to bedtime.” He looks at me expectantly. When I don’t immediately answer, he continues, “Just tell me what your nightly routine is after work.”

I cough to clear my throat. “Okay. I usually pick up Lucy, get home, and have a beer while I figure out some dinner. I feed us both. Lucy and I sometimes take Maggie for a walk when it’s a nice night. If we don’t get to do that, then I bathe Lucy and put her to bed. I have been having to rock her to sleep because she’s been under the weather. By then I’m usually exhausted. I have another beer, throw the ball for Maggie, and then pass out.” I rake my hands through my hair.

“Do you have a beer every night?” Doc asks, frowning as he scribbles on his clipboard.

I scratch my chin, awkwardly. “Usually,” I admit.

“More than one?” Doc raises his eyebrows.

“Yes. But no more than three. It’s just to unwind, Doc, not to get drunk. I can stop any time.” I fold my arms across my chest and cross my ankles.

“Okay, Liam, then I want you to stop. Or drastically cut back.” Doc cocks his head at me. “You’ll need to create an evening routine for yourself that signals that it’s time to calm down—without alcohol.”

I sigh, nodding my head, “I know.” The truth is, I’m just going through the motions some nights.

Doc scribbles something else on the paper before speaking again. “What else are you doing to manage your overall stress levels? I know you go to the gym regularly, but why don’t you try a meditation or yoga class downtown?” Doc puts his pen down and looks at me directly. “You’ll need to get a handle on this before it worsens.”

I groan. I know he is right. “The thing is, it isn’t every night that I’m having these dreams. It’s usually after a stressful day.”

“Okay, what was the trigger this time?” He leans back in his chair with his pen and clipboard expectantly.

I sit up and rest my elbows on my knees, covering my face with my hands before I talk. “This time… Well, it was a stressful weekend.” I fill Doc in on my Friday night, the ensuing argument with Sophie, and Lucy’s illness. Getting it off my chest helps a lot. I pinch the bridge of my nose and suck in a breath before I admit the next part. “And I cleared things up with Melanie. I let her know that we’re just friends and that’s all it will ever be.” I lay back down as the words tumble out of me. I forgot how exhausting talking about emotions is.

When I’m finished, Doc exhales. “Phew. Yes, that is a stressful weekend,” he agrees. He pushes his glasses back up on his nose. “How do you feel since you talked with Melanie?”

I hesitate. “Relieved…I think? She was just causing me so much extra stress. And I can’t give her what she’s after.”

“Which is what?” Doc asks me, as if he doesn’t already know. As if we haven’t gone back and forth on this a thousand times before.

“A serious relationship… I can’t do it. At least not with Melanie. Maybe with someone else someday but…” I shrug.Someone else.At this moment, a visual of Sophie with her bright smile and warm demeanor pops into my head. I shake my head to push it aside.

“After all this time and all of the things you have been through, why do you think you can’t be serious with someone?” Doc has asked me this question periodically throughout the years, and my answer has always been the same.

“I still have lingering guilt that I’m responsible for Cara’s death. Any time I think about being in a relationship, there’s a little voice in my head telling me I’m unworthy of love. And I have neverlovedMelanie. Sometimes on good days, I think I could love someone else, but it’s not Melanie for me.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath, sitting up.

Doc’s timer beeps on his desk. “Liam, there is a lot to unpack here. The bottom line is you do deserve love. You do. And you need to work backward to get to a place where maybe you can feel healthy enough to date someone, if that’s what you want. In the meantime, I’m giving you some homework.” He points his pen at me. “I want you to try a yoga class.”

I smirk at his mention of this, and he rolls his eyes. “You’d be surprised how much yoga can do for your mental state, Liam. And it’s gentle. It’s not you pushing yourself into fight-or-flight in the gym.”

I drop my hands in defeat. “Fine. I’ll try a yoga class. Anything else?”

“Yes. We need to get to a point where you can come to terms with the past. Whenever you have a dream that leaves you upset, I want you to write it down. I want you to give yourself a period of time—five, ten, fifteen minutes, whatever you think you need—to sit with the feelings. Then I want you to tell yourself you’re a good person, and I want you to move on with your day. Do you think that’s something you can do?”

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