19. ~Ronan~
Chapter 19
~Ronan~
“It’s called PTSD. Post Traumatic Shifting Disorder,” Dr. Theriot said with a completely straight face.
“Cute.” I chuckled. “Is that a real diagnosis?”
“In the supernatural psychological community, it certainly is. And a traumatic one to recover from.”
“But why do you think that’s what I have?”
“Because your wolf went into hiding immediately after the accident with your mother, which was obviously a very traumatic event in your life. Why don’t you tell me what happened that day you were in the car accident?”
In our sessions, we’d always skated around this exact question and what had happened that day. She was so direct and natural asking about it that I wasn’t prepared for a way to evade it as I always did. When other people have asked about my mother’s accident, I’m usually ready with a way to change the subject. I simply froze and stared at her while she sat there, tranquil and patient and waiting.
“Since our time together,” she started, “it’s become apparent that your wolf is in hiding. It’s a defensive move. Something happened that scared him and you so much that he decided he’d better stay away. And you decided it was best you hold him back too.”
“I never blocked my wolf.”
“Maybe not consciously. But subconsciously, you have. So why don’t you tell me about the accident?”
A flood of adrenaline pumped through my veins at the memory of that day. I’d never forgotten one single second of it. The nightmare haunted me often enough, but I always tried not to think about it. To push it away. Maybe like I’d pushed my wolf away.
“We’d been grocery shopping at Walmart that day.” I swallowed at the thickness that had suddenly filled my throat.
“Did you often go grocery shopping with your mother?”
“Always. She was a single mother, and though I was growing up, she didn’t like to leave me home alone. Plus, I was a help to her.”
I smiled, thinking about how at twelve I had been taller than she’d been and could reach the top shelves.
“How so?”
“I’d help get the things she wanted that were too high up for her. I helped bag and load the groceries.”
“I’ll bet you were a great help to her.”
I nodded, my heart pumping faster as I walked through every moment of that day.
“It had been the perfect Saturday.” My voice rasped with regret. “It was the first weekend of the month, and my mom got paid once a month for her secretary job at the school. She always treated me on that weekend.”
“She wanted you to be happy.”
“She did,” I agreed. “She was always doing little things for me to give me a better life. To make me happy. So we’d gotten some burgers at this diner I loved and had a picnic in the park. Afterward, we’d gone to Walmart.”
I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans.
“Like I said, it was around her payday, and she sometimes bought me a toy or something extra I wanted as a treat.”
“She bought you something special that day?”
Closing my eyes, I nodded, visualizing holding what she’d bought me. “It was a new sketch pad with special multicolored art pencils. The expensive kind. I wasn’t into kids’ toys anymore, and she knew how much I loved art class.”
“So you were an artist when you were younger. Have you ever thought about being an artist? I know that many werewolves go into the field.”
“I did. But after that day, I never wanted to be one again.”
“I see. Keep going, Ronan. You’re doing well.”
Combing both hands through my hair, I stood and walked to the window. Dr. Theriot never minded me moving around as I often did. I always got restless when our conversations got personal or difficult. This was the most difficult discussion we’d ever had, one I’d never shared with anyone. But something gave me the courage today, urging me to tell it all, to let it out. It wasn’t just my subconscious, but a tingling of magic whispering in my veins.
“After we packed all of the groceries in the car, we headed home. I should mention that it was Mom’s new car. Not brand new, because she could never afford that. But a newer used Nissan sedan. It had real leather seats. She was so proud of that new car.”
I chuckled bitterly.
“It was late afternoon. The sun was just beginning to set. I’d taken the art pad and pencils with me in the front seat so I could sketch on the way home. We lived a little outside Amarillo along a country road, so I had a good amount of time to sketch.”
I paused, remembering how I’d begun sketching characters from this favorite video game I liked.
“Go on, Ronan,” Dr. Theriot urged gently, still seated behind me.
“I wasn’t really paying attention because I was sketching my characters. But, apparently, I’d let my new pencils spill onto my seat. Mom must’ve looked over because then she said, ‘Ronan, put those pencils away. They’ll stain my leather seats.’ And like I said, I wasn’t paying attention. I was really into my own head. I didn’t do what she said.”
I licked my lips, staring out at the crape myrtle tree with puffy purple blossoms, my heart beating faster. I could hear my mother’s voice in my mind. I could still smell the lemon Pledge on her hands from dusting the house that morning and the lavender shampoo in her hair.
“When she told me the second time to put them away, she reached over, and my wolf, he just reacted for me. I wasn’t in control of him as I’d just hit puberty and had shifted only a few times before this.”
My chest felt tight as I remembered her eyes widening when I growled and my claws came out.
“I actually slashed at her hand with my claws. She’d snatched her hand back in time, but right then, at the same exact moment, a deer ran in front of our car. My mom jerked the car suddenly to the right. Unfortunately, on this long-ass road with few trees at all, there was one big, thick oak directly in front of us. Mom swerved hard so that when we hit, it was mostly on her side.”
I couldn’t speak anymore, thinking about being back in that car. Mom was completely crushed by the steering wheel, her head bleeding from where it hit the top corner of the car in the crash.
“I jumped out and waved down a passing truck, who called 911.”
“Were you injured?” she asked softly.
“Not badly. I’d fractured my ankle, but I didn’t feel it. Once I got the man in the passing truck to call the ambulance, I returned to the car to be with Mom.”
I held her hand and squeezed it while she smiled at me and shushed me.
It’s okay, Ronan. Don’t cry.
Her soft words as her breathing became shallow and she slowly died beside me brought all of the old fear back. I was los- ing the only person who truly loved me.
You’re such a brave, smart boy. I love you so much, son. I’ll always love you.
Then she stopped breathing, and my world as I knew it ended. “You know what’s the worst part of it?” I asked, voice hoarse. Dr. Theriot remained quiet.
“I’m a werewolf so my senses are heightened. I could hear every fucking thing. The wet rasp of her breathing as blood filled her lungs. The slowing of her heart as it fought to beat and keep her alive. And I could hear the exact moment my mother’s heart stopped beating. When she left me on this earth all alone.” My voice cracked .
Dr. Theriot walked up beside me and handed me a Kleenex. I took it, not realizing that I was crying. Two cardinals alighted on the crape myrtle outside. We stood in silence, watching the birds hop from branch to branch, sort of chasing each other and singing back and forth.
“That was an awful tragedy for so young a boy.” Her voice was filled with compassion. “But I am certain now that it was the inciting incident when you put your wolf away, caged him deep inside you, since he lashed out at your mother. You punished him and therefore punished yourself. Since then, you’ve not only been coping with survivor’s guilt but also with the belief that you somehow caused your mother’s death.” She paused for a moment, then went on. “Please know that you lashing out at your mother did not cause the accident, Ronan. You did not kill your mother.”
I wiped away a fresh trail of tears, having always believed it was my fault.
“It was an unfortunate series of circumstances, Ronan. Even if your wolf hadn’t reacted in that moment, it is entirely believable that your mother would’ve reacted in the exact same way with the deer and hit the exact tree in the same way. Your distraction of her attention for a few seconds may not have had any impact at all. But even if it did, it was still an accident. You did not kill her. You must know that and understand that.”
“I just don’t understand why it had to happen at all. It’s so fucking unfair.” My voice broke again.
“It is unfair. So many tragedies in this world happen for no good reason at all. It is up to us to take those tragedies, mourn our lost loved ones, and do better in the life we have left to live. To be better versions of ourselves and to live fully and completely in order to honor those who can no longer do so.”
We watched the birds for a moment, sweet little things hopping around.
“One thing I noted of importance in your story,” she added, “was that your mother didn’t have time to avoid the tree, but she did have enough time to protect you. She made sure the brunt of the crash impacted her. She wanted the son she loved so much to be safe and whole. To go on and live a full life, even without her.”
I nodded, exhaling a heavy breath, unable to say in words that I knew that was true. We stood in silence while I tried to recover.
“You know?” I whispered, having finally dried my eyes. “I read once that spirits can sometimes come back from the afterlife and visit their loved ones as cardinals. Do you think that’s true? I see them a lot.”
“It could be,” she said. “But your mother’s spirit has likely been watching over you and visiting you your whole life. The Goddess of Nature or God the Creator, whichever you believe in, or both, has guided you on your path, a path your mother would be proud of.”
“How do you know that?” I asked, finally turning to her.
“First, I know, because your wolf has not left you. Even though you’ve kept him locked away all this time because you fear what he might do if he’s uncaged, he is still there. Secondly, I know because you are striving to become better, to be better, and that means you’re guided by the goodness of the mother who birthed you. But finally, and mostly, I believe it because you’ve left your home in Texas where you were born. It’s possible you stayed there all this time only because leaving felt like leaving your mother’s memory behind. But you were led here to New Orleans directly into the path of your soul mate, your supernatural mate, who was put on this earth to love you through all of life’s trials and tribulations and joys and happy occasions.”
Why I could never see any of this for myself, I didn’t know. But it was true. I was well aware there were several states in the US that didn’t outlaw wolf cage fighting. I should’ve moved long ago, but I never once even thought about it. Texas was my home, where I’d been born and raised, where my mom had died and was buried. It had never occurred to me to leave until Uncle Shane reached out and offered a room in his house and a job to get me on my feet after the last arrest.
“I think you’re right,” was all I could say.
“I probably am.” She smiled. “I’m pretty smart like that.”
Chuckling, I said, “Well, so what happens now? How do I get over Post Traumatic Shifting Disorder and make my wolf come out?”
“That’s hard to say. Confronting your past was the first step. It might be the only step. He may come out at will or on the next full moon or on a full moon next year.” She gave my arm a squeeze, filtering her Aura happy spell into me, washing away the darker feelings I’d had when recounting my mother’s death. “But the good news is, you’re reuniting, you and your wolf. He’s recognized your mate, and he’s sniffing around the surface again. He’ll be coming out to play soon enough, I’m sure of it.”
“So I need to keep coming to therapy to keep this progression going? ”
She laughed. “That’s up to you. We’ve gotten to the real reason your wolf is in hiding. We can continue to talk as long as you need.”
“Thank you, Dr. Theriot.” I looked at the clock on the wall. “My time’s up, and I’ve said about all I can say today.”
She walked with me around the sofa where I picked up my keys on the end table.
“You’ve made great progress, Ronan. All of your feelings are valid, but it’s important you understand that none of what happened was your fault. The best thing you can do for your mother is live the best and happiest life possible.”
With another nod, I sighed. “I agree.” Then I headed toward the door but stopped and promised her, “I’ll see you next week.”