As promised, here is the next chapter! Just a small note: I ended up making the doctor a psychiatrist instead of a psychologist.
It might take a little while for the next chapter but I already have it started.
Enjoy!
~Artemis024


Chapter 8: Dr. Mathoweitz

The office was clean. Almost too clean for Shawn's taste. The receptionist had led him into the room and told him to get comfortable. The doctor had to step out for a moment but would be back shortly. But it wasn't short enough. The door opened and in walked a middle aged man who strangely looked like Lassiter with a beard and glasses.

"Hello," the doctor opened a file he was holding, "Mr. Spencer. I'm Dr. Mathoweitz." They shook hands and the doctor settled into the arm chair across from Shawn.

"You can call me Shawn."

"Okay, Shawn, I understand you are a consultant for the SBPD. Why don't we start by you telling me what brought you in."

Shawn scoffed at this. "No offense, but I know how this works. You have a file there with all the info you need to know on 'the basics'. So let's cut the crap and just start."

"Alright. Let me rephrase the question then. Do you understand why you are here?"

Shawn rubbed his face and with a deep exhale he replied, "Yeah. I mean, I know why I have to be here, but I don't agree with it." He looked up but the doctor just waited for him to continue. "Some people seem to think I've been acting … erratic. That I need to be evaluated for my own good." He rolled his eyes.

"And what do you want to get out of this session, Shawn?"

"I just want to go back to work, plain and simple." His leg started bouncing and he found it difficult to make eye contact with the doctor.

"You seem agitated, Shawn," Dr. Mathoweitz observed.

"Well, yeah! I don't exactly want to be here. And the fight with my dad didn't help my mood." As soon as he shared he mentally kicked himself. He had wanted to be as vague as possible so as to not invite questions. But now he would have to answer more.

"What did you argue about?"

"Um, well, about making this appointment and about me smoking," Shawn replied, omitting parts.

"He doesn't like that you smoke I take it."

"He didn't know."

"I see. How long ago did you start smoking?"

Shawn shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe three, four months ago. It just kind of started."

"You mean you started."

"That's what I said."

"You said that 'it started'."

Rolling his eyes again Shawn replied, "That's what I meant. Listen, I'm not here to play word games. I started smoking about a few months ago. It's just something I do when I drink. I'm not a smoker," he emphasized the phrase, "but my dad acted like it was crack."

Dr. Mathoweitz jotted something down and said, "How often do you drink?"

"Why does that matter?" Shawn was getting irritated.

The doctor leaned forward in his chair. "You were right when you said that I have a file on you. A couple days ago Chief Vick notified me that she ordered you to see me, and gave me some background on why. I know that you have been drinking excessively and that your friends, family and coworkers are concerned about this." Shawn was silent and the doctor continued, "I also know that you were recently arrested for drunk driving."

"So if you know all of this, why are you asking me?"

"I think it's important to hear your thoughts on the matter."

Shawn didn't want to answer that. He didn't want it written in some doctor's notes. And he especially didn't want to hear it out loud. He stared aimlessly past the doctor's head, trying to think of what to say, what to do, next.

Sensing the apprehension, Mathoweitz continued, "Anything you say here is confidential, Shawn. I can't tell anyone what you discuss with me."

"That's not true," Shawn replied as he made eye contact.

"Okay," the doctor nodded, "There are some things that I cannot keep to myself. But those are only if I feel you are a danger to yourself or others, or if you tell me that you plan on committing a crime. As long as you don't say anything to make me believe either of those are true, all I can tell Chief Vick is whether or not I feel you should continue working for the SBPD at this time."

Feeling the tension in his body lessen slightly, he decided to answer Mathoweitz. Fidgeting, Shawn replied, "Um, recently I've been drinking most days I guess."

The doctor watched Shawn for a moment before replying. "You only smoke when you drink, but you drink most days. It sounds to me like you're a smoker, Shawn."

With a slight squint Shawn responded, "And why does that matter?" He felt judged. He let his guard down, trusting the doctor, and now he was being judged.

Mathoweitz gave his head a slight shake, "It doesn't." The doctor opened Shawn's chart. "But it's rare for people to start smoking at your age," he stated.

"What can I say? I'm a rare kind of guy," Shawn smirked.

After a brief pause Mathoweitz continued, "You said that 'recently' you've been drinking most days. A year ago how often were you drinking?"

Feeling the tension from before rise again, the smirk slowly faded. "I don't know… maybe once a week. I never really kept track."

"Did something happen to cause this change to almost daily drinking?"

"Nothing that I can pinpoint." Shawn crossed his arms defensively. "What are you getting at?"

"Generally someone doesn't just start binge drinking on a regular basis. I want to see if we can determine what is causing it for you."

"Nothing is causing it. I just like it. I don't see why people have such a problem with it. I'm enjoying myself."

The doctor nodded and paused before asking, "Have you ever been treated for alcohol dependence?"

Shawn scoffed, "No. Mostly because I'm not dependent on it. I'm not an alcoholic." Shawn stood and paced back and forth for a few moments. "Okay. I've been drinking more than normal. But it's not a problem. I don't know why everyone is suddenly so concerned about me!" He stopped and looked at the doctor, as if searching for an answer within his face.

But instead, all Dr. Mathoweitz could offer was, "You don't see driving drunk as a concern?"

"I..." Shawn sat. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

"But it did."

Shawn ignored this comment and instead replied, "I think they should mind their own business. I have been okay for the past couple days. I haven't drank," he lied.

"Come on, Shawn. I could smell the alcohol as soon as we met. You've obviously been drinking this morning. Most people don't consider alcohol in the morning a normal thing."

Caught in his lie, Shawn deflected, "Why do you keep telling me about what's normal or rare?"

"I'm hoping it will help you see why the people in your life are concerned about you." Mathoweitz watched the psychic closely, intently trying to decipher his expressions.

Shawn simply looked away, avoiding the doctor's face. "I'm functioning, okay?"

"So you consider yourself a 'functioning alcoholic'?"

"No! You're putting words in my mouth! I'm not an alcoholic!" His plans to remain calm had failed. Feeling the doctor's ability to read the torment in his eyes, Shawn turned away again, focusing his eyes on a spot on the wall.

"When was the last time you had at least two consecutive days where you did not have any alcohol?"

Shaking his head, Shawn replied, "I don't know." He felt defeated.

As though the doctor had become the psychic, he knew better than to push the subject any further. He didn't want Shawn to shut down completely. "Tell me about your job."

Shawn sighed and rolled his eyes. "You already know what I do."

"Actually all I really know is that you're a police consultant."

Finally making eye contact again, Shawn responded, "I'm the department psychic." He waited for a clear reaction, but the doctor merely jotted something down and then looked back up. Shawn continued, "What? No comments on how you think I'm delusional?"

"Do you think you're delusional?"

"It doesn't really matter what I think, does it? All that matters is what you tell Chief Vick." When the doctor didn't respond, Shawn continued, "I can see things other people don't or can't see. And because of that I help solve cases." Technically that wasn't a lie.

"Do you enjoy your job?"

"I love it," Shawn genuinely replied without skipping a beat. The two men watched each other in silence for a minute. Neither could tell what the other was thinking.

"Okay, Shawn," the doctor said, "I'd like to do a general psychological screening. I'll ask some questions and I just need you to answer honestly."

Shawn, who up till then had been sitting on the sofa, stretched out in a laying position. "Hit me."

The doctor flipped to a fresh page on his pad of paper. "In the past two weeks have you felt sad or depressed?"

"I suppose I have times like that, yes." His voice was level.

With a quick note on the paper, Dr. Mathoweitz continued, "What percent of the time would you say you feel this way?"

"I don't know. Maybe fifty percent."

"Have you had trouble sleeping, either too much or too little?"

Shawn rubbed his face. "Some nights, yeah."

"Which is it? Too much or too little?"

"Both. It depends on the night."

"Any problems with concentration?"

"Not really, no."

Dr. Mathoweitz nodded and jotted another note. "Have you had any thoughts that you would be better off dead or thoughts of hurting yourself?"

"No." Shawn had paused just long enough before his response for the doctor to pick up this.

"You hesitated."

Caught, Shawn replied, "Did I?"

"Yes. Any reason why?"

Shawn glanced at Mathoweitz to find himself being studied. He shook his head slightly and looked back up at the ceiling. "I was just thinking"

"About anything in particular?"

Inhaling deeply, Shawn responded with a hint of coldness, "Just searching my memory so I could give you an honest answer."

Again something was written, but as with the alcohol Mathoweitz knew not to push this subject either. He knew the psychic was still trying to figure out if he could trust talking to a doctor, especially one that worked for the department. "Any recent anxiety attacks?"

"No," Shawn quickly said, happy to be on to a new question.

"Has your appetite changed in the past two weeks?"

"Not that I've noticed."

"And have other people said anything about it?"

"Why would you ask that?" Shawn turned his head again to look at the doctor.

"You said that you haven't noticed a change, which makes it sound as if others have."

Shawn paused. "Yeah, some people might have said something." He sat up. "Are we done here yet?"

"Only if you want a poor review with the department. We still have plenty of time left in this session." The doctor watched the psychic to see a reaction, but Shawn simply laid back down and gazed at the ceiling.

"Okay," Shawn sighed, "please continue."

"Do you have any history of drug use?"

"Yeah, some. Nothing really though. Not in a long time. You know, kid stuff. Just some pot when I was a teenager."

"Okay, that is the end of the screening, but now I would like to go a little deeper into some of your responses."

Shawn sat up again and looked at the doctor. "Alright."

"You said you experience some depression. How would you describe yourself during these periods?"

Furrowing his brow, Shawn responded, "I... I don't know. I don't even know if it's really depression," he lied. "I guess I just want to be alone sometimes. I like that time to just... be alone."

"Before you had said you've been enjoying yourself and now you're saying that you've been experiencing depression, or something that you might consider depression. Could you explain the discrepancy?"

"I… The alcohol helps me not... feel that way. And if it doesn't help with that, it at least helps me sleep." Shawn looked away.

"So would you say both the alcohol and the possible depression are connected to your changes in sleep habits?"

"Yeah. I mean, when I'm feeling down I don't feel like moving, but at the same time my brain won't shut off so I can't fall asleep. The drinking helps with both. Plus I guess I sleep more when I don't have anywhere to be."

The doctor made a note. "You mean when you don't have a case. Do you find yourself more depressed when you aren't actively working for the department?"

Shawn simply nodded.

"And," Dr. Mathoweitz continued, "when you do have a case, do you find yourself elated, or more energetic than normal?"

"I suppose." Shawn paused. "Listen, I know what you're getting at. My mom is one of you guys. I'm not the only person who gets excited when I do something I love, and lethargic when I have nothing to do. That's normal."

The doctor nodded slowly and studied Shawn's face, recognizing his defensive tone and looking for his tells. "When did you start losing weight?"

"I didn't say that I have." The psychic clenched his teeth.

Leaning forward and gesturing towards Shawn's clothes, Dr. Mathoweitz replied, "Yet it's apparent based on how loose your clothes are." When he got no response he continued, "Do you find yourself not eating as much when you drink?"

Shawn tried his best to suppress his anger. "I don't understand why you are focusing on this. I am trying to tell you that my drinking isn't a problem. I recognize that it's there and present, but it's not taking away from my overall ability to function in work or in life"

Tapping his pen on the paper a few times, Dr. Mathoweitz continued, "Let's face the facts, Shawn. You look horrible. Your eyes are bloodshot and you have been shaking since you came in. And don't forget you came in here today after already drinking this morning. If it isn't alcohol, then what would be your best guess as to what is causing these symptoms?"

Shawn leaned back on the couch and crossed his arms defensively. "Fine. I had a late night last night. I didn't plan on being here this morning. All I wanted to do today was sleep through the inevitable hangover. But just because I drank last night and have a hangover today doesn't make me an alcoholic. And as for drinking today, I only had a couple bloody Mary's with my dad at breakfast."

"Was your father drinking?"

Mentally kicking himself again, Shawn closed his eyes. After a moment he replied, "No."

"Did he care that you were?"

"He wasn't thrilled about it." Shawn leaned forward again and rested his chin on his hand. He quickly glanced up and away at the doctor.

With his eyes still fixed on the psychic, Mathoweitz asked, "How much did you drink last night?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." When the doctor didn't respond, Shawn leaned back and continued, "I don't know. I blacked out." Shawn hated revealing that, but took solace in knowing that no details could be shared with the PD or his family without his permission.

"Do you remember where you were or who you were with?"

Looking at his hands Shawn replied, "I wasn't with anyone who I know. A couple days ago, I started at a bar... one I frequent. I blacked out and was home where I drank some more. And the next thing I knew, it was today."

Mathoweitz could tell the increasing level of discomfort the young man was experiencing, solely based on his constant movement. "What prompted you to start drinking that night?"

"The Chief told me I had to see you."

Shawn looked up and their eyes locked on each other. The doctor nodded and silently watched Shawn for a minute. Finally he asked, "Do you have any memory of how you got home?"

"I know what you're getting at." Shawn sighed. "Yeah, I drove. At least I'm assuming I did. I rode my bike to the bar and it was back at my place when I woke up."

"When you're a few, or several, drinks into the night, do you feel that you are in control or losing control?"

After a short pause Shawn replied, "I guess... I'm not aware either way. I guess that would imply that I'm not in control of what's going on, but at the same time I don't, or maybe can't feel that I'm losing control. I'm just coasting and going along with whatever happens."

"Is this the experience that you consciously enjoy or is it something that happens without planning?"

Shawn sighed, and it was as if his body deflated. "I don't start the night thinking, 'I want to lose control.'... But it gives me an excuse to not see everything."

"You mean in regard to your job? Your skill?"

"In regard to everything. It's all just a – " Shawn stopped himself before saying 'lie' and revealing his ultimate secret. "burden. I don't want to see everything anymore. And when I blackout I don't see anything."

Dr. Mathoweitz was struggling to understand this. The picture of Shawn, although vague in descriptions from the file, painted him as a proud, vain, almost egotistical individual. In the beginning of their session he instead presented himself as defensive, but now all he seemed was defeated.

"I'm a little confused, Shawn. You say you love your job, yet you also say the major elements that compose it are a burden. You say you're enjoying life, yet you can't remember half of it because you're drinking yourself stupid every night, and it sounds like to escape." The doctor put down the pen and paper. "And to top it off, you say you want to get back to work, but when Chief Vick gave you a deadline of when to see me to keep your job, you almost missed it because you went on a bender and 'didn't plan on being here today'."

Shawn screwed up his face and shook his head. "You make it sound like I was planning on offing myself to not be here. I wasn't planning on being here today because I wasn't planning on losing two days." Shawn paused. "I know that the blackout doesn't help my case. What I mean is, I don't want to be here in this office. I don't need to be here."

"Shawn, it seems to me you are suffering from a pretty significant depression. And I think you would greatly benefit from talking about whatever is going on in your life to create these changes that are worrying the people around you."

"I don't have anything more to say than what I've already told you."

The doctor paused again, leaned forward and clasped his hands, trying to look deeper into Shawn's eyes. "Would you be open to trying antidepressants?"

Shawn tensed and re-crossed his arms, "I, um... I don't know. I don't know if I'll be able to do my job on meds."

Dr. Mathoweitz pulled out a different pad of paper, "I'm going to write you a month supply for a low dose of Prozac. If you decide to take it, I'd like to see you again in two weeks to evaluate how you're responding to the medicine. Although this drug, fluoxetine, does not have a strong interaction with alcohol, if you do decide to take it I highly recommend that you limit your alcohol consumption." He wrote out the script and looked up, "Okay?"

Shawn nodded. "And about today's evaluation?"

The doctor handed the script to Shawn. "I think you do have some level of alcohol dependence. And I think you are very well aware of it, whether you'll admit it or not. If you are in fact experiencing blackouts, that's concerning. However, I feel that once we stabilize your depression with this medication, you may not feel the need to drink to this extent. If, for any reason at all, you think your depression is getting worse, I want you to call me. Although not as common in adults as it is in children, antidepressants can increase depression."

Again Shawn nodded. "But... what are you going to tell Chief Vick?"

"Considering the nature of your job, I don't see why you shouldn't be able to go back to work. You're a consultant, not an officer. You don't carry a weapon. And you aren't directly responsible for protecting civilians. I'm going to recommend that you continue working for the SBPD."

Relief flooded over the Shawn at this news. His session was over and all he wanted to do was go home.