Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
T ROY
This was a mistake. I bolt up out of my seat and make it to the door, my hand on the knob about to turn it when I hear someone clear their throat.
“Mr. Willson?”
I stare at the door for a few seconds before I turn around and look at the woman watching me with one eyebrow cocked. She’s attractive, probably younger than me by about five years. I don’t know why, but I assumed she’d be much older.
“You weren’t trying to sneak out, were you?” There’s a light, teasing tone to her voice.
I put my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels. “Um... maybe?”
The woman laughs. “I’d hate to see you leave when you’ve come this far. I’m Marissa. Why don’t you stay, and we’ll relocate to my office?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Am I really going to do this? I take a few steps toward her, and when she walks down a short hall, I follow.
“What’s that?” I blurt out, pointing to the small, odd white box outside the door of each room. She looks to where I’m pointing.
“It’s a white noise machine.” She must see the skepticism I’m feeling on my face because she smiles. “They help maintain privacy by masking sound. It’s another way we maintain the confidentiality of our clients.”
I nod and follow her into the room. When she gestures to have a seat, I sit on the loveseat in the room and glance around. The room is cozy, with a few lamps on.
Over the next couple minutes, Marissa explains how our first visit will go and what subsequent visits might look like. I work hard to focus on what she’s saying so I don’t miss anything important.
“Would you tell me, in your own words, what made you seek therapy at this time in your life, Troy?”
My heart starts pounding in my chest. A very big part of me wants to leave, telling her this was a mistake. I’m too uncomfortable. Then, I remember Shannon’s face and her words the afternoon she told me she wanted a divorce.
“You don’t listen to me.”
“I’m invisible to you. You don’t even know me anymore...You don’t see me.”
“If you’re honest with yourself, I think you know you don’t love me anymore…”
I clear my throat. “I’m going through a divorce.” My voice is hushed.
I wait for her to say something in response, but she doesn’t. She watches me expectantly.
“I had ADHD as a kid and... and probably still do. I let it mess up my communication with my wife and made her leave me, too.”
I noticed her write something down on her notepad and wondered what it was.
Over the rest of the session, Marissa asks me questions and helps me dig deeper into a few of my answers. She asks if I’ve ever taken medication for ADHD. I explained that I did as a kid and why I stopped them—finances. When I re-tried them as a young adult, I didn’t like how they made me feel.
“But I don’t want to try medications again. I want to try managing it without.”
“Tell me more about that. What would it look like if you could better manage it? What would you like to see change as a result of therapy?”
I hesitate. “Um, I guess I’d like to be able to focus more when my... when someone is talking to me, so I remember important things.” I pause and watch her face, searching for a clue that this is enough for her. She watches me, her expression not giving anything away about her thoughts. “I-I need to learn how to pay better attention in certain situations. At work, it’s never been a problem, oddly. Put me on a medical call or even in a raging fire, and my focus is unwavering, all the non-essential things in the periphery of my mind quiet. But that’s harder everywhere else. Depending on the setting and how much is happening around me, I can usually sort my thoughts okay, but it may take longer than other people. I do best one-on-one or with only a couple of people. When you add in a lot of activity—like, say, a kid’s birthday party or an all-family dinner like we used to have at my in-laws—I struggle there. Honestly, we have four kids, so even an evening at home can be hard to focus, and I... I...”
I need a minute to get myself together, to ease the tightness in my lungs. To get my words past the overwhelming sadness that fills my heart and clouds my mind. I lean forward, resting my forearms on my knees and my head in my hands, staring down at the navy blue carpeting. As I force myself to take a few slow, deep breaths, my head clears a little, and after a few moments, I glance at Marissa.
“It can be hard to focus at home sometimes, and because I didn’t find ways to deal with that, I didn’t pay as much attention as I should have. I missed that my wife was unhappy until it was too late. I missed that she doesn’t see herself like she should. Worse, I didn’t do my part to assure she knows how I see her.” My eyes blur at the thought of Shannon having such a low opinion of herself. “I-I saw she was sad... depressed maybe, but I didn’t do the right things to take care of her. I didn’t see she had regrets, and I made her feel invisible. I let her sink deeper into her depression.” The first tear that drops onto my cheek seems as if it’s the size of a boulder. I don’t bother to wipe it away.
Marissa waits a few long seconds and then leans toward me. “That’s a lot of blame to assign yourself, Troy. A good place for us to start on our next visit is by sorting out what is yours to own—especially things we can do something about—and what isn’t. I’d also like to get you scheduled for comprehensive testing for ADHD. It could help us individualize your therapy. Are you willing to do that?”
I nod. We spend the next few minutes getting the ADHD evaluation set up and then scheduling a few more appointments. Marissa offers the option of holding our appointments at the Elladine office she works out of since this one, in River’s Run, is further for me, but I decline. I want to keep this private, and distancing myself from Elladine when I see her is exactly what I want.
As she walks me out, Marissa tells me, “I’m glad you’re getting help, Troy. You should be proud that you took this first step.”
“I had to. I can’t keep driving people away.”