Hi Everyone! Thanks for reading, here's chapter 7! Be aware that this chapter contains reference to attempted suicide, abuse/bullying, and anxiety.
*Disclaimer. I don't own Glee, or anything else recognizable in this fic, including Web MD. Also, remember that this story is FICTION and I make no promises that it is accurate medically, psychologically, or scientifically.
Please review!
Dave took a seat in the chair that he normally occupied, pulling it up beside a small table containing various tubs of clay. He reached for the red and ripped the lid off of it, pulling out a chunk and beginning to work it with his fingers.
He didn't make eye contact with his doctor until the man cleared his throat a moment later and began by saying, "So, angry today?"
Dave nodded, kneading the clay into one hand with the knuckles of his other.
"Who or what are you angry at?"
"Myself," Dave muttered.
"Because of what a young man said to you in the store?"
Dave continued to work the clay. "Kind of more because I let it happen."
"You can't control what people say to you or think about you, David."
"But I'm supposed to be able to control how I respond to it! Wasn't that the point in me talking to you all this time?!"
Dr. B nodded thoughtfully. "Partly, yes, but do you recall the way our sessions went when you first began here?"
Dave shook his head. "I try not to."
"You spent a long time just getting out of your own head, David. Long sessions of gray clay only, remember?"
Dave looked over at the tub of gray clay that represented his anxiety and rolling turmoil that had plagued him for the weeks before and after his attempted suicide.
"I'm proud of your progress David, but it concerns me that you think you didn't have control of yourself when you went after the other student. Do you believe that your medication has been ineffective?"
"No, actually," Dave answered firmly.
"I actually think it's too strong. I'm too jittery and I swear I'm not feeling depressed, but then when... He didn't even say anything mean really, just a stupid taunt and I snapped. It's like, I didn't even know what happened before he was slammed against the shelves and my sneakers were soaked in Italian dressing."
Dr. B hmm'd for a bit, flicking through the admittedly large file that he kept for David. "You've expressed a similar account of this sort of behavior in the past. How do you feel about cutting back on focusing on anxiety and perhaps taking a look into managing or channeling your anger?"
"I play hockey," Dave answered defensively.
"I'm not sure why that's relevant."
"When I play hockey, I think about all the shit that I've been pissed about, and I can crack a slap shot or slam a guy into the boards and it feels better."
Dr. B nodded. "Frequently, people find physical activity to be a great stress reliever. Martial arts or football, or hockey in your case, all very physical and high-contact sports, and when it's controlled and safe, that's ok. That being said, I want you to think about what happens if, when you allow anger to consume you and your habitual response is to check a fully padded hockey player into the boards, then outside of the rink, when you feel that anger again, your initial response is going to be..."
He allowed the statement to hang in the air, waiting for David to complete the thought.
"I'll want to check someone else," he said in a hushed tone. He made eye contact with his therapist and held it, looking for an answer in the kind gaze.
"Do you feel that that might have been what happened on Halloween?"
Dave coughed, shaking his head at himself. "That's got to be exactly what happened," he admitted. "And if, if I reacted just out of habit or muscle memory or whatever, that's why I feel like I sort of blacked out and I don't remember going after him? God, what if I had hit Caleb? Jesus this is what that domestic abuse shit is all about isn't it?" He began to work the clay again frantically in his hands.
"Hey hey hey, try to calm yourself," The doctor interrupted. "You are not an abuser, Dave," he said firmly. "Are there common threads here? Yes, I won't lie to you. But look at how you responded to the idea of Caleb being hurt, how does that make you feel?"
"God, I feel sick," Dave answered frantically. He chucked the clay to the table and reached for a trash can that was situated under the table he was at. He gagged for a second, trying to control his breathing. Then, "Kurt," he groaned, putting a hand to his forehead and resting his elbow on the table to support himself. He felt a cool hand on the back of his neck, realizing that Dr. Bevotti had left his desk to help him when it looked like he might be sick. The hand felt comforting against his sweating skin, and it dropped to rub small circles against his shoulders.
"What about Kurt?"
"I- I attacked him!" Dave answered.
"You stopped."
"But I liked him and I beat him up and, and kissed him and God, why are you telling me that's not abuse?" He scrubbed angrily at his face when he felt tears leak down his cheeks. He realized he wasn't going to throw up and pushed the can back under the table.
"I wouldn't deny that your treatment of Kurt was abuse." Dr. B said carefully. "But I will not allow you or anyone else to label you as an abuser. You need help, Dave, and I can give it to you. Your progress since you began here shows me that you are incredibly receptive to counseling and medical treatment. That makes you different. You want to be better. Tell me more about Kurt and Caleb."
"Why?"
Dr. B hesitated. "Because I want to prove to you why I don't believe you liked Kurt as much as you think you did."
Dave looked at him, confused. "Okay, what do you want to know about them?"
"Tell me about Kurt first. What does he look like?" Doctor Bevotti returned to his desk, where he sat in his large chair and leaned back comfortably, as though awaiting some great story.
"Um, he wears really skinny pants a lot of the time, like, I don't even know what sort of fabric that is but there's no way it's normal denim. Sometimes he wears shirts that I think he buys in women's stores because they're like... not girly, but they don't look like something most guys would buy because it's got gems or something like a design like Marilyn Manson on it."
"Marilyn Monroe?"
"Yeah, what'd I say?"
"Manson."
"Oh no, Kurt would never wear something with Marilyn Manson on it. I meant Monroe. The one in the white dress. Um, he wore a kilt to prom and everyone made him prom queen, I told you about that a while ago. What else?"
"Whatever you else you think of."
"Oh, sometimes he goes from dressing really um 'effeminate'," (he put the word in air quotes,) "to like, well it looks like he's trying to look sporty or something. For example he wore a hoody once and a bandana around his forehead, and sometimes it's weird styles like the time he had some sort of tail tucked into his pocket, but usually I think he just tries to look nice. He looks way more formal than what most kids wear to high school because everyone else just wears sweatpants or school issued stuff."
"Like varsity jackets?" Dr. B said teasingly.
Dave cracked a bit of a grin. "Yes."
"Okay, now Caleb."
"What about him?"
"What's he look like?"
Dave felt his ears burn red. "Well most of the time he likes wearing khakis. He thinks they're the most versatile because you can wear khaki shorts or khaki pants and still sort of get away without looking like a slob no matter what your shirt looks like. He's got brown hair, but when I first met him I thought it was sort of orangey or reddish but when I asked him about it he said it gets that way in the summer time. It's always in his face and he gets haircuts all the time but never cuts it short enough so that it's not a problem for a while. Um, his eyes are real nice, and when he's excited about something and laughing he scrunches them up a lot so I don't even know how he can see. He's got freckles here," Dave explained, gesturing across the bridge of his nose with his hand, "but not like, all over his face and stuff like a lot of people with freckles usually have. Just those. He's about my height, he's in good shape so he's smaller than me, like, he's kind of skinny but I mean still solid, you know? He plays lacrosse, that's why."
Dr. B was doing a very good job of hiding a small smile.
"Excellent. How are you feeling now, Dave?"
The student looked down at his hands, which had stopped messing with the clay some time ago. He put the red back into it's bin and pulled out the yellow- content. He began to roll it smoothly between his palms. "I'm doing ok."
"Good. Okay let's go back to Kurt. Tell me about some of his favorite things."
"Clothes, I guess," Dave began with a shrug. "Definitely singing and dancing," he added. "And I know he likes French because my old friend Azimio always complained about how he actually paid attention in class and like, no one else cared."
Dr. B nodded, waiting for him to continue. "That's it," Dave finished lamely.
The therapist flicked through some papers again in Dave's file. "You mentioned once that Kurt had a brief stint on the football team?"
"Yeah," Dave answered. "But he quit because everyone was an ass to him in the locker rooms and stuff."
"But for all you know Kurt may have loved football, right?"
"I guess so," Dave shrugged. "He's a great kicker and he was really, and I mean really proud when he won that game."
Dr. B agreed. "And we also know that we worked at his father's car shop?"
"Yeah, that's where I first met him actually. When my mom needed her breaks fixed. That was the summer before high school."
"So we can also wonder if cars or mechanics may be counted among Kurt's favorite things."
Dave bit his lip. "That's probably likely. I think I know where this is going."
Dr. B smiled at him. "Well then let's continue. Caleb's favorite things please?"
"Yellow peppers, out of the colored bell peppers, I mean. He prefers the yellow ones because they're sweeter. Definitely loves lacrosse, hates hockey but his skating is improving. Probably not one of his favorite things though. Writing, for sure. His English teacher in high school was apparently a big part of his life. Oh, when he was in middle school he would go visit his elementary school teachers because it made him feel really important when they would introduce him to the little kids and say things like 'Caleb used to be in my class when he was your age and now he's in eighth grade,' and then he'd have all these second graders or whatever looking at him like he's God." Dave laughed. "He likes working with little kids, and he wants to teach, but he wants to teach high schoolers because he wants to be able to help them out like his old teacher did. His favorite class right now, according to him, is Intro to Education, but I think he only said that because I'm in that class and we can tolerate it together. His favorite animal is dogs but he's never had one because his little sister is allergic, so last month we went to the store and found him a goldfish, because we can only have fish in our dorms. He named it Fido. I'm trying to think but I can't remember if he ever told me what his favorite color or anything was, so I guess that's all I know."
"That's fine," the therapist told him. "Now, you think you understood my point?"
"Sort of."
"Explain it to me."
"I don't really know that much about Kurt."
Dr. B inclined his head. "Well, to be honest you don't know too much about Caleb either. The information you gave me is consistent with what I think we tend to know about our friends after knowing them for a short while. You tell stories, talk about family, and you notice little things about them. You've picked up a lot about Caleb, and it's clear that you are fond of him, based on how closely you seemed to have listened to and observed him. Hearing your description of Kurt however... and I want you to look at this with an open mind... I feel as though you didn't so much like Kurt, as you seemed to have had a bit of an obsession with him."
Dave didn't answer.
"Let's look at your first response. What does Kurt look like? You told me some physical, but admittedly shallow characteristics. You focused on his choices in clothing. You began the same way with Caleb, but quickly incorporated rather specific features- the freckles, the manner in which he laughs... you are very attuned to the difference in femininity and masculinity between both Kurt and Caleb. Tell me about that."
"I don't know," David said. "I didn't realize it."
"Well, when you think about how flamboyant Kurt's manner of dressing was, what do you think about?"
"I used to get so annoyed," Dave admitted. "It's like, we all knew he was gay, so why did he have to keep amping it up? I didn't want it rubbed in my face that he was so out there, and I was feeling so freaking scared all the time. And then I'm thinking, great, so if I am gay, am I supposed to go around dressing like that? It pissed me off because I don't want any part of that, skirts or fancy shirts or whatever. I'm gay, but I'm still me."
"I know. And Kurt is gay and he's still him."
"Huh?"
"Sorry, I guess that didn't make much sense. I'm just saying that Kurt's manner of dressing isn't what defines him as gay. He is, and he also enjoys the clothes that he enjoys. It's just another aspect of his character. Now, I know there's more to your emotions in dealing with Kurt. Let's continue."
"It's like..." Dave began, flustering for the right way to phrase whatever he was going to say.
"Don't censor yourself, David. Just say whatever you want. I'm not judging."
"He would just walk past me sometimes, in the hallways, and I'd feel like, I was so mad at him for making himself this huge stereotype, and at the same time, I wanted it so bad."
"Wanted what?"
"Just the knowing, I guess. He was so sure of himself, and sometime's I'd... I'd get hard and then I was so jealous and annoyed and at the same time I'm trying to figure out, if this is pissing me off so much, why do I like it?"
"It's normal to have a response like that David, even if you're not head-over-heels for a person. In fact, young men frequently have erections at inappropriate times. They aren't all because you're sexually aroused. They are a product of blood flow and hormones, both of which can be affected if you're nervous or embarrassed or in a multitude of different situations."
"I know, I took health."
"So why would that make you panic?"
"Because I didn't want him to have that kind of control over me!"
"Have you ever been aroused because of Caleb?" Dr. B asked seriously.
Dave felt his ears burn again. "Yes," he said quietly.
"And does that make you feel like he's controlling you?"
"No, because I really like him. And it feels good to think about him instead of terrifying and frustrating."
Dr. B smiled again. "I think we can agree then, that your feelings for Kurt were much different than your feelings for Caleb that you have now. As I said earlier, I believe that Kurt became a focal point for your frustration and anger when you were in high school because you were dealing with so many other things. It's not a matter of if you were attracted to him or not, but rather the simple fact that he was an easy target."
"I don't see what this has to do with me being abusive or not."
Dr. Bevotti leaned forward in his desk. "David, in high school some kids are assholes. They're the bully. That was you. You found a target and took out your own insecurities on him because you felt badly about yourself. You got yourself so twisted around in your own thoughts and emotions that you couldn't keep your head straight. This happens. Domestic abusers look for someone who they can make reliant on them. They like the feeling of power and manipulation. They want to be the one constantly in control of the other person's actions."
"See, when you say stuff like that it doesn't make me feel better. I just told you I didn't like the control issues!"
"Actually, you specifically said 'I didn't want him to have that kind of control over me.' There is a difference between wanting control over yourself and wanting to control ever move and action of someone else. You threatened Kurt. Yes. For yourself. Your situation with Kurt is an awful circumstance of bullying, and yes, it was abusive, but I am telling you, David, you are not a bad person. Do you believe me?"
"I'm trying to."
"That's all I can ask. Alright, let's discuss some methods for you to redirect your anger. Why do you believe you were so quick to shove that student the other night?"
"I was already feeling so on edge," Dave admitted. "Caleb was telling me that I was ignoring him, and I know I was, because sometimes he just says things and he doesn't even know they upset me, because how could he, since I haven't told him anything yet, and when I told him to drop it he said I was being mean. I know that sounds so juvenile because whatever, right? But I'm trying so hard to be a good person and to treat him right and I really want him to like me, and then he's like 'oh you're such a mean person to me.' So when that guy showed up and decided to interfere I was suddenly so pissed off and frustrated that I just turned around and went after him and it was just... I hated that feeling. I felt like I was back in high school again."
"It sounds, Dave, like we need to return to one of our basic principles here. Which is..."
"Communication."
"That's right. We were able to work on your situation with your dad because you got to the point where you felt comfortable discussing your sexuality with your father. Right now, if you want to pursue a relationship with Caleb, you need to be ready to communicate with him about your past, and about what's going on in the present. Otherwise, if something he says or does bothers you, and you can't tell him why, he won't be aware of it building in you until something like this occurs. Communication is key to any relationship, and I think it is especially important for you."
Dave nodded. "I know. I want to talk to him about things, but I'm worried."
"That he won't want to be around you?"
"Yeah."
"Dave, it's true that anxiety, anger, depression, suicide... these are all words that tend to cause people to put up barriers. Good people though, work through their own hesitance in order to help those that they care about. You believe that Caleb is a good person?"
"One of the best," Dave answered fondly.
"Then you need to speak to him. Here's what I propose, because we're running out of time. Take this weekend with your dad. Do something fun and get your mood up again. I'm going to prescribe you a lowered dose of the medication you are already on. If it's making you feel too jittery, that may be exacerbating the frustration that you're already dealing with. As far as addressing your anger goes, try to learn to respond- not react." He opened a file cabinet and pulled a photocopied sheet of paper from a folder.
"This is an article that was publised by Web M.D. I'm not usually the biggest fan of their suggestions, but this was a good overview of learning to manage some anger. Review it and try to be open to adopting some of these tactics. Also, take my card-"
"I already have one,"
"take it, and hang onto it. When you speak to Caleb, give it to him and let him know that if he needs me to explain something to him, or if he wants to talk, I will happily chat with him over the phone for no charge. I will not divulge any of your personal information, but I can talk to him as an informed party, should he have any concerns. Are you okay with that?"
"Yeah," Dave answered, nodding. He tossed the ball of yellow between his hands like a baseball, and stood up. He squished it back into its tub and crossed the floor to the therapist's desk to take the card. He pocketed it, then stuck out a hand for the doctor to shake. "Thanks."
"How are you feeling now?"
"Still yellow," Dave answered. "I'm going to have lunch with my dad, and we're going to go see a game tonight. It should be a good time."
"Enjoy it."
"I will, thanks." Dave went to the door, and was halfway out when Dr. Bevotti called out to him again.
"And David?"
"Yes?"
"Good luck with Caleb. He sounds like a nice guy and I'm happy for you."
Dave blushed and bit his lips. "Thanks."
Dave exited the office building through the large glass doors, tucking his hands into his pockets as he felt the cool November wind bluster by. He scanned the parking lot for his dad's familiar car, spotting it a short way down to his right. He made his way toward it looked in through the window to see his dad's seat reclined, the man asleep with his hands behind his head. He felt a stab of guilt for making his father drive out to Bowling Green and back so suddenly last night just for him. He pulled the handle of the door, startling Paul awake. Paul ran a hand over his face, clearing his head before he reached for the switch on the door and flicked it to unlock. Dave opened the door.
"Sorry, Dad."
"Don't be, Son. How'd it go?"
"Good. I feel better."
"Anything you want to chat about?"
Dave fastened his seatbelt as his dad put the car in drive and began to pull out of the parking space. "We talked about Kurt some more."
"Again?"
"Mhm. And, um, Caleb."
"That kid in your Education class? What for?"
"Well he and I have been sort of hanging out, like, a lot."
"Hanging out, like, dating?"
"Not yet."
Paul took his eyes off the road for a second to look at his son, who was smiling to himself and tapping his fingers on his knee. Focusing again, he asked, "Anything else?"
"Oh, yeah. We need to bring what's left of my meds to the pharmacist so they can get rid of them, and Dr. B sent them a new dosage for them to give me. Down from 200 to 75mg. He said to call every day just to check in for a week or so though."
"He lowered it, despite this situation you've got now?"
"We decided that this situation wasn't really because of anxiety. He said maybe if they weren't making me so jittery and self-conscious, I might have less to get frustrated about. We're going to focus on some calming techniques to try and help me handle things when I get angry."
Paul nodded. "We used to let you beat out tantrums against the couch cushions," he said.
"Really? huh. No, well we're going to try some less physical things."
"Sounds reasonable."
"I'm hungry," Dave changed the topic as his stomach growled.
Paul laughed. "Breadstix sound good?"
"Definitely."
Note: Hey again. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and a look inside Dave's appointment with his therapist.
I'd like to ask you guys for your thoughts and prayers regarding my mom. Her situation with cancer is not very good and she's currently at a very important appointment with her doctor. I'm really worried about her.
Thank you, please review and follow me on tumblr! Perpetuating-pez
-darkestAngel13
