Page 45 of Be Your Forever
“What brings you here to see me?” Dr. Jacqui asks.
Oh, okay, so we’re jumping right in. I wring my hands in my lap, but the clamminess has them sliding around with ease. My mind races as I brace myself.
You need this, Bri. This is the start of healing. The start of beingyouagain.
I suck in a deep breath and start out with words barely above a whisper.
“We were in an accident.” I can’t meet her eyes. Flashes of that night threaten to rip me from the present moment. I need to get this out before I lose all courage. I clear my throat, my grip against the plush couch grounding me to the here and now before continuing.
“My brother and I were on our way to an outing, and we got hit by a drunk driver who blew through a red light. I only had a minor concussion and a few scratches, but my brother, Max, suffered the most. He was in a coma and had to have multiple surgeries.”
Jacqui’s silence permeates the space, and I hate that I can’t read her expression. My breath catches in my throat as I wait for the inevitable judgement.
“I am so sorry that you had to go through that. How painful that must have been both emotionally and physically. How are you coping with everything?” Her words feel like a hug from a friend, warm and inviting, giving me the courage to continue.
“In the beginning, I was really depressed. I couldn’t leave my house or even take care of myself. It was a dark place for me. I’ve slowly started to live again, but I’m still struggling with a few things.”
“Might I ask what those things would be?”
“Um, well, I’ve gained a lot of weight since everything, which, up until recently, I’ve had a hard time coming to terms with.”
“What happened recently to shift your perspective?”
“Um, well, my brother’s best friend, Asher, has been helping me. He’s really been helping me push myself out of my comfort zone. He’s been a lifesaver, really.”
“Sounds like you found a great partner to help you through everything.”
“Oh, no, we aren’t together. He’s more of a…um—”
“Friends with benefits?” Dr. Jacqui interrupts.
“Oh, no. I don’t even know how to describe our relationship, but it feels like it's more than that.”
“I see, well, whatever the relationship is between you two, I’m glad you have someone to support you.”
“Yeah. My best friend, Avery, has also been a saint in this whole process. I ghosted her for a while when I was struggling, but she waited for me with open arms when I was ready to come back.”
“That’s wonderful to hear. How are you and Max?”
“That’s where things get complicated. I, um, haven’t seen him or my parents since my friend Avery’s wedding.” I look down, unwilling to meet the discernment that I assume will be on her face.
“May I ask why?” Her question has me breaking down. I’m falling apart on her couch.
“I feel guilty for everything. It’s all my fault he was in the hospital in the first place. It’s all because I wanted to go fucking axe throwing that this happened. My parents have been texting me asking how I’ve been, and I’mignoring them. I can’t seem to face them knowing what I did and how they probably hate me. Anytime they’d look at me, I saw their pain. Pain I caused with my selfishness. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault.” I bury my head in my hands as shame sits like a heavy boulder on my chest. It feels good to spill my true feelings to a stranger, but I still feel awful.
“You are carrying a lot of unnecessary guilt. That’s some heavy stuff you’re holding onto. You have permission to feel all those feelings, but I feel like it’s a lot to take on when the blame lies elsewhere. I understand it may feel like your family hates you. Our minds can be a powerful weapon, using our insecurities as their bullets. I’m glad you decided to come today, and I’m happy you’re here. I want to give you some information on a type of therapy that I feel would be a good fit for you.” She gets up to rifle through her desk as I look around the room for tissues.
Dr. Jacqui comes back with a small pamphlet in her hand and gives it to me. On the front are the words EMDR, or Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing, with lots of words describing the process. From my understanding, it’s a technique to help the brain reprocess trauma so it no longer impacts your life. It sounds intense and extremely invasive.
“Take that information home with you and let me know next session if you feel like it’s a good fit for you.” We spend the rest of my session working through some of my feelings, and it feels nice to spill everything that’s been a massive burden in my heart. We set a date and time for next week, and by the time I’m walking out of the building to call a rideshare, I’m exhausted. I get as far as pulling up the app when I hear a familiar voice.
“Hi, baby.” I snap up when I hear Asher’s voice.
He’s leaning against his door, hands in his pocket and one leg crossed over the other. How is he here right now? Why is he here? I don’t give myself time to answer those questions because I’m running full force into his now outstretched arms. His arms wrap around me at the same time my legs wrap around him. Asher is spinning me in a circle while cradling the back of my head with his hand.
“You’re here.”
“I’m here. Where else would I be? I knew you’d need me, so I’m here.”
