Evelyn, Part 4

Chapter 5: Evelyn, Part 4

When I arrived in the waiting room, the usual receptionist at the front desk greeted me with a quick nod, and I smiled slightly in return. I was only a few minutes early, and before too long I saw Dr. Laura's warm smile which, as always, almost instantly drove away my regular dread of our counseling sessions. I sat down on the familiar sofa across from where she took a seat in her large and fluffy armchair. We delved right into things, and I rambled on, recounting the week with the exception of the incident at the performance until finally, I led up to the horrible suffering of the night before. I could see wrinkles creasing her forehead as she listened. "But you're fine now?" she asked.

"Yes I am, but William worries it could happen again. He wanted to make sure I told you about it."

Laura nodded a few times. "And tell me, have you been washing your hands a lot recently?"

I glanced at them before answering. "Well, yeah, but not like before." My stomach heaved at the memory of cracked and sore hands that had once become unrecognizable with my compulsive need to clean them so often that they bled. My handwashing had gotten way out of control. Not to mention how it was hurting my ability to work with my music.

"Okay, keep an eye on that. I'll need to prescribe something for that again if you think it's getting worse," she said as she wrote something down on the notepad placed at her side.

I shook my head. "No, I definitely don't want that again. But yeah, I'll make sure to tell you." I didn't like taking meds unless it was an absolute must, and in the past, it had been. I could still vividly recall the horrible urges to wash under scalding water, rubbing my hands raw with soap. If I felt okay to walk away, it was only for a second before I had to run back to the sink. I just couldn't stop, and that overwhelming level of compulsion scared me more than the physical damage I had put my hands through.

After Dr. Laura had finished writing, we dove into some of my near and distant future goals, which brought up my ultimate problem, the cause of everything wrong with me. Fear. All my fears were like tiny needles embedded inside of me, trying to stab through every which way to get out. The pain was constant and sometimes difficult to live with; both physically straining and emotionally draining. The weight of fear is one of the heaviest of turmoils. Again, I tried not to think about what must have been hallucinations at the performance, and what my mental state may have presently been in. I wanted nothing more than to chase the fears deep inside me away, but if I did then my guard would be down, and what would be left to happen after? How could I let go of something that makes sure nothing bad can happen again?

"Evelyn, you can't guarantee anything in life. Unfortunately, you can't always stop something bad from happening. But you're not really living if you don't stop being afraid," she said, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand.

"How can I stop it?" I felt so frustrated, I'd been over this with her for years now, and nothing was working. Not long-term, anyway. "I just don't know how—"

"Living life is just taking a leap of faith while treading carefully everywhere you land. Keep using the coping methods we discussed."

"But those only work until my worry builds up to the breaking point. I go through the motions, taking it one day at a time, or sometimes just one hour. Nothing gets back to how it used to be. Why can't I get all the way better? Is this it for the rest of my life?" I waited, but she didn't say anything. "How do I stop worrying? How do you do it?" I asked, slightly leaning forward.

Laura sighed deeply as she repositioned herself in her armchair. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you how. It's just something that naturally happens. I've already told you many life philosophies that help many get past their fears. It's simpler for me because the worry doesn't plague me like it does for you," she said, pursing her lips into a tight line.

Setting my jaw, I looked down at my hands to escape her gaze while I tried to collect my thoughts. All I had been doing was burying my feelings, or distracting myself from them. I felt that if I looked at them head-on that I would lose any control left to me.

"Our time is almost up," Laura interrupted, and I looked up. "However, I want you to think about something, and I know I've told you this before, but I want you to try harder this time." Her eyes focused seriously on me. "I want you to let yourself talk about your parents, and stop running away from it when your brother or Alice bring them up. I think if you can somehow get past that, then you can at least start to actually heal." She gave a sigh. “We have no hope of healing all that haunts and hinders you from moving forward without you accepting your parents’ passing. I’m sorry, Evelyn,” she finished.

Every time my parents were brought up, all I could think about was seeing their mangled car after the accident. Gripping my hands together, I took her words to heart. I knew I wasn't over my parent's sudden death, but oh, it was so much more than that now. I couldn't bear to tell her about the visions or the time ripple I experienced yesterday. She'd definitely think I was insane or put me on heavy medication. Somewhere in my gut I knew I wasn't crazy, but isn't that what crazy people think? Maybe I should tell her—

"Our time is up," Laura announced. Guess not.