Chapter 27 Rose
ROSE
“How would you describe yourself?” I asked.
“Now, or before?”
“Both.”
Phoenix glanced down at his hands, clasped in his lap.
“Before, unstoppable. Now… Weak.”
“Define weak.”
“I can’t control myself.”
“Emotionally, or physically?”
“Both.”
“Are you aware of this—we’ll call it new—response to situations? That you are acting out of character?”
“Yes.”
“And how do you feel when it happens?”
“I get pissed off.”
“At yourself?”
“Yes.”
“You fight it, then? The emotions?”
“Yes.”
“Because that’s what you’ve spent your life doing. Right?”
He glanced down.
“Except, Phoenix, here’s the deal with this. This is different. This isn’t terrorists or evildoers that you can eliminate with a pull of a trigger. This is science. You are fighting science.” I waited a beat to let that sink in, however it may. “Can I explain further?”
A slight nod.
“The bullet penetrated your head on the upper, right side, above your eyebrow. In your prefrontal cortex, to be exact. This part of the brain is closely linked with the limbic system, which is the area of the brain that controls our behavioral and emotional responses. The root of your issues, so to speak.”
He was watching me now, a hint of interest in his eyes. We were off feelings now and into facts, which he responded to. Just as I would have. So I took it further.
“The limbic system is made up of four main parts. First is the amygdala, a very powerful part of the brain that evaluates your emotional response to situations; think, happy, sad, etcetera. This is where your fight-or-flight sensory is housed, something that most combat veterans are very familiar with.”
He dipped his chin in acknowledgment.
“The hippocampus is located in the temporal lobe and is associated with how we form new memories based on past experiences.
The thalamus and hypothalamus are associated with pleasure like arousal and rage, and controlling those emotions.
The cingulate gyrus links sight and smell to memories and deciphers how we respond to those, whether it be anger, whatever.
Finally, the ventral tegmental is involved in the transmission of dopamine, which affects our moods.
All of these parts work together to send messages to the prefrontal cortex, which tells us how to interpret and respond. How to act.
“You see, the bullet damaged the part of your brain that takes all the little messages from the limbic system and processes them into empathy, shame, compassion, guilt, pleasure, fear, anger. The thing is, though, Phoenix, damage to this part of the brain messes with your social emotions—but leaves your logic reasoning intact. You have that now. You still own that. You still control that.”
Something flickered in his face. Hope.
“When you are fighting yourself, you are fighting emotions that are a direct result of your injury. You are fighting something you can’t control and only making it worse. You’re fighting the healing process of your body. These emotions will subside, I promise. You will heal.”
He looked down.
“Think of it like a broken arm. The swelling is a side effect you can’t control.
You have to let your body heal. With a broken arm, you’re put in a cast for a few months.
This limits your mobility and tests your patience, but you have to allow the bone to heal.
You listen to your doctor, take his or her advice, and allow it to heal.
Before you know it, your arm is back to normal and your life is back to normal. ”
He stopped fidgeting with the stone and looked up.
“The brain is a very powerful thing and we’re still learning about it every day.
Take your ego out of this and try to look at your brain as something separate from you, separate from your body.
Look at it like something that has been damaged and needs to heal.
It’s not you, it’s the organ in your body called your brain.
You are not damaged. You are not weak. You are not crazy.
Your brain is simply misfiring, and needs to heal.
” I leaned forward, and emphasized, “Phoenix, you’re not only fighting something you can’t control, you’re worsening its effects. ”
“But how do I not fight it when that’s what my body’s natural response is to do?”
“That’s exactly why we’re here. That’s what therapy is all about.
To teach you how to do that. One way is to control your environment.
Until you’re healed, you should control your environment.
I’m sure Dr. Buckley gave you meds, which, I’m guessing you aren’t taking.
You should consider taking them, at least for the headaches.
And he probably advised you to take it easy, stay home, stay off work, lay off the booze, live in as calm of an environment as you can while your brain heals. ”
“So don’t destroy my therapist’s desk or walk up on a dead body?”
I grinned. “Exactly.” I sighed. “There has to be a level of acceptance here. You have to accept that your physical body is injured, and that only you can take steps to fix it. I can only guide you. You have to put in the work by being open to therapy, both physical and psychological, taking your medicine, resting, changing your environment. You can control that, Phoenix. You can control it. So, control it.”
Frustrated, he stood and turned his back to me. He scrubbed his hands over his face and began pacing.
“You’re strong, Phoenix,” I said, my own voice wavered at his obvious emotions, maybe even tears. “You survived a gunshot wound that most people wouldn’t have. You can survive this.”
I heard him sniff and forced myself to look away to give him a moment of privacy, and if I’m being honest, to give myself a moment, too.
He ran his fingers through his hair with an inhale, then squared his shoulders and sat back down on the couch.
“Keep going.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”