Chapter 15 - Talk Talk

Won't show you the other side

You're just wasting my time

All you do to me is talk, talk

Talk, talk, talk, talk

From what I can tell Dr. Ogden is about ten years older than me and absolutely stunning. Long chestnut hair, eyes bluer than Harm's and skin so flawless she looks like a china doll. Her eyes captivate, you can't help but look into their depths that are smiling and kind. She might have been a model in her youth and I wouldn't be surprised if the woman has many admirers and not because of her medical knowledge.

I hate her.

Even when all she's done is taken my hand and introduced herself, I hate her. The word is strong and foul, one my grandmother told me never to use unless I could enjoy seeing that person hurt or killed. Well, I hate her. I hate Dr. Helen Ogden.

She sits opposite me in a chair that must be as comfortable as my own. Dr. Ogden takes a swig from a bottle of Evian and after asking her secretary to hold all calls, she sets her sights on me.

I'm in uniform, something many people find intimidating. The silver oak leaves grants me a higher level of respect especially as the woman in the Corps. Working in Bethesda she must know the different branches and ranks. She takes a quick glance at my newly minted file and then glances up at me. "Colonel, what would you prefer I call you? Some of my patients use their ranks, others their first name. Sarah is very beautiful."

And I can count with one hand the people who call me that since leaving highschool. "It is but I never liked the name. I've even contemplated changing it."

I can hear my father yelling for me. 'Sarah this...Sarah that. Sarah, Sarah, Sarah..' For as long as I can remember, I've always been Mac, a nickname given to me by my uncle Matt for some reason and one that I used most of my life.

Mac was strong while Sarah was weak. Mac was a Marine and Sarah was nothing. Mac crawled out of her addiction and Sarah embraced it.

"Or would you prefer I call you something else."

"Mac, you can call me Mac." I say and after a quick look at my file she puts two and two together.

Dr. Ogden smiles, like she approves of my nickname, something I don't care about. I don't need her to like anything about me. I just need her to put the words 'cleared for duty' on a little piece of paper and call it a day. "Mac? I like it. Few women enjoy a male moniker but I believe it suits you. Mac…" She jots something down and then say my name again as if testing it. "Okay, Mac, are you sitting comfortably? Then let's begin."

This is when it commences isn't it? The breaking down of this not so old Marine. She'll go chip by chip, breaking down carefully erected walls until I completely unravel.

My heart begins to race, the tie at my neck, one that I've worn for years is choking me. I feel warm and clammy all at once, cold and hot. My escape is just behind me, the closed wooden door that leads to the waiting area and then the long, stark hallways of Bethesda.

I'll never make it out. I'll never make it to my car where I can drop into the seat and cry until the anxiety pases. If I stay , I'll embarrass myself. If I go, my career, my life will be over.

I faintly hear Dr. Ogden speaking, she may have used my rank and a tone that forces me to snap to. Once my eyes focus back on her, I feel my stomach lurch, forcing me to race to the nearest wastebasket where I empty its contents until there is nothing left but dry heaves.

"Fuck." I say out loud, I yell it but that doesn't seem to phase that stupid woman from coming to my side and rubbing my back like a mother would do to a sick child. Once I realize my stomach won't revolt again, I try to stand but my knees are wobbly and with reluctance I let Dr. Ogden lead me to a couch on the rear wall.

I'm not sure how long I lay there or how the events unfolded to have my tie and first three buttons of my blouse undone. My jacket was neatly draped over the back of a chair and I had a cool towel covering my forehead. Christ, did I fall asleep? Did I black out?

When I try to sit up, Dr. Ogden is instantly on my side and a kind voice tells me to 'take it easy.' I don't want to take orders or advice from her. I don't want her help and yet the pain in my skull is so bad that I'm laid out once again.

"I got you a can of ginger ale and some aspirin. Relax for a bit." I pop open one eye to look at her as she cracks open the soda and offers it to me. With a wave of my hand, a pitiful and weak gesture, I decline and hear her let out a deep sigh. "Colonel, I understand that you're a Marine. My husband is as well so I know how damned stubborn you will be. I'm not your enemy. I'm trying to help you."

Mental health professionals aren't supposed to snap are they? And while she didn't yell, her tone of voice was no-nonsense, the way a mother would sternly speak to a petulant youth. The fight in me wavers, my walls chip a little and I consent to take enough sips of the gingerale to swallow down the aspirin.

"I'm sorry." I say after what feels like an eternity. "I don't usually go around hurling in waste baskets."

Dr. Ogden grins and slowly shakes her head. "Janitorial took care of that and you aren't the first. At least you made it to the waste basket." By the look on her face, I realized others may have caused messes far greater than my own. That was somewhat comforting.

"I'm better, I think."

"Anxiety can get the best of us no matter how powerful we are. And it comes out of nowhere."

"Why does that happen?" I felt in control at first, a little anxious but that was to be expected. It was that sudden flash of anger, the feeling of drowning in emotions that had me seeking escape.

"When you survive a traumatic experience, it leaves little bits of information behind. Our brains work like a computer - every experience is filed and categorized. You may never access it and it may never bother you but, one word, one action, a smell, a picture, a sound - anything might make your subconscious remember the fear. It bathes you in it until you're drowning without anyone to save you."

If my mind is a computer then it's hard disk is definitely fried. Shit. "And what if I want to drown?"

"Then we have bigger concerns." She smiles sadly and then studies me for a moment. "Do you think about hurting yourself? Have you hurt yourself?"

No. But, I seduced the man I love and then forced him to try and strangle me in the heat of passion. I think to myself and cringe. That bit of information I simply can't delete and how I wish I could because I never wanted to hurt Harm. Or did I? Oh God.

"Oh God." This time the words do come out, my quiet introspection on the past few weeks makes me blanch and my stomach lurches again. I swallow down a bit more soda, the cool liquid helps ease some of my tummy discomfort but the rest of me feels numb. "I've hurt someone dear to me. Someone that I...that I love."

"A boyfriend?" She asks and I nod knowing the doctor took a peek at my record and understood I wasn't married. "Did you hurt him physically?" Off my odd look she offers a terse smile. "Men aren't the only ones who are physically abusive. They may think they're the stronger sex but I've had many patients who have been abused mentally and physically by their own wives."

I can see the mental part because it's easy to tear down a man who came back with the baggage of war on their shoulders. But, I can't see a hardened Marine take that physical abuse, guess you live and learn. "I've wondered about my own exsistence. Who would miss me? If those in my circle would be better off without me."

She frowns and that action makes me panic. I don't want her thinking I'm crazed or suicidal. I don't want her thinking less of me. "I don't want you judging me or your disaproval."

Dr. Ogden sits back and studies me for a moment, an act I'm sure I'll come to hate as our game progresses. "I'm not here to judge. I'm here to listen. And I will disaprove of many things, you hurting yourself is one of those things." She cocks her head to the side and that frown manifests. "I can tell by your uniform that you're too thin. The dark circles under your eyes mean you haven't slept much. To the untrained eye you are very well put together...to me, your hurting yourself."

I take a breath and open my mouth to argue until I hear Harm's angry voice speaking to me a couple of weeks after we came home from Paraguay. 'You don't sleep, you don't eat...You're killing yourself.'

I'd taken up running at odd hours to stave the pain and he noticed. If that was so long ago, I can't imagine what I look like now. "I am, I have been...but these thoughts...the nightmares."

"We'll work through them if you let me." I must have cringed or frowned because she smiles brightly, an effort to placate that works. I feel better, even if it's for the moment. "No judgement just plenty of listening and plenty of tools so that you work through this yourself."

"Myself?"

She nods. "Yep. I give you the tools, you do the work. I assume a Marine likes to take care of their own issues?"

"We do."

"Good. There's no hand holding, no coddling. I will listen, interpret and everything you tell me is confidential. But you will fix yourself, Colonel. You, if you want to."

I don't know why but a tear spills out and slides down my cheek. I don't have Harm to wipe it away and that's okay. I let it stay, I let her see that I'm vulnerable with emotions that run deep. I want the help, I want to be myself again. "I'm doing this for me. It wasn't just an order."

"Of course." Dr. Ogden makes sure I'm safe and able to drive. She also prescribes a very small supply of medication that is non-habit forming and a stress test in two days. "Colonel, try to rest. I know your commanding officer gave you plenty of time off. Use it to unwind, find a new hobby. You mentioned you have a boyfriend, is he good to you?"

I smile as I think about said boyfriend or whatever Harm is to me. We were together for a time until I dropped an A-bomb on his lap and proceeded to rip him apart. And yet he came back to the screwed up woman that hurt him. He came back to me. Is he good to me? No. "He's wonderful. Noble to a fault, easy on the eyes. He wants to fix me and can't...I've been nasty to him, broke it off and he came back...He's...he's...maybe he's more than just wonderful."

"Good, it's easier to step back into the light when there's someone waiting for you on the other side." Dr. Ogden seems rather happy about this and after a few directions on how to take my medication, she walks me out of Bethesda and to my car. "I don't usually walk patients out but, I wanted to make sure you were okay to drive. Have a good day, Colonel."

"Thank you, oh and doc?" She was a few spaces away from mine when my voice stops her. She turns and I take a leap, a big leap of faith. "Call me Sarah."