BOOOORING. Sorry. But it kinda had to be included. If you like this view inside her head (in a different perspective than usual), maybe I'll write part 2 or another one later to show her progress. I liked writing this (a chapter of mostly dialouge is a breeze but it was interesting to see where it took me), and I hoped you liked reading it.
Day 4 Post-Incident: Therapy
While Amanda and Carisi were discussing their theories about the case, Rafael and Olivia were about to deal with the aftermath as they drove to Dr. Lindstrom's office. The car bounced with each pothole it hit and Noah laughed hysterically each time his toddler car seat jolted. Olivia glanced sideways at Rafael, who was grinning from ear to ear, and could swear the man was purposely swerving, just a little, to hit the holes.
Originally, Olivia felt guilty for dragging Noah along, but she soon found that she couldn't bear to have him out of reach. Besides, Rafael – who insisted that he stay the whole time if she was comfortable with the arrangement – would be an adequate playmate in the waiting room.
When they finally arrived – Rafael took another route, "coincidentally" one that was infamously neglected by the Department of Transportation – Olivia approached the receptionist 15 minutes before her appointment was scheduled. After checking-in, she sat down beside her son and took some Paw Patrol figures from her purse and placed them onto the waiting room bench for her son to play with.
Unfortunately, they didn't quite meet the demands of "King Noah", who wanted his PJ Masks toys instead. Before the tears could well in his eyes, to match his pouting expression, Rafael soothed the boy by dramatically pretending to be interested in playing with Chase and Rubble. Olivia watched as this immediately calmed Noah, who began to playfully but possessively explain that only he could play as Chase. Rafael waved his hands in dramatic motions through the air to give the impression that Sky was flying while Noah matched his position and stretched his own hands out to mimic an airplane.
Her adoring observations were interrupted when a door opened with a small creak. Dr. Lindstrom emerged from the back of the office and called for Olivia, who reluctantly left her son and Rafael with a wave.
Lindstrom turned in this chair to pick up the empty yellow notepad on the table beside him. Now that Olivia had formed him in on the situation, vaguely and robotically, the real "shrinking" was about to begin.
He leaned forward in the chair and made eye contact. "How are you feeling, Olivia?"
Olivia scoffed. "That's a loaded question." She crossed her legs and inspected her fingernails. "I just... um... I'm okay right now."
He audibly scribbled on the notepad, but only briefly. "Can you pick out some things that make you okay right now? Maybe Noah?"
"He definitely helps. I felt bad for taking him down here, but I guess I'm just having some separation anxiety. He doesn't seem to mind, anyway."
"What are some other factors?"
Olivia chipped some pale nail polish off the corner of one nail. "My... coworker, Rafael. He's staying with me for a little while until I go back to work."
"And I assume that he is the man in the waiting room? You've told me a lot about him."
"Yeah...", she continued twiddling her fingers and inspected the reflection on the porcelain vase on the coffee table, "I was a little concerned that having somebody I know so close to these sessions would be... well... intimidating. But actually... I'm feeling better. Knowing that my son and my best friend are out there waiting for me."
"I guess you could say that Rafael makes you feel safe?" Lindstrom raised his eyebrows to signal that this was in fact a question, but Olivia was too busy looking at the carpet to notice.
"I don't think I ever feel "safe", really, except when I get lost in the happy moments. But I don't think that really counts. Rafael makes me feel safer, though." She momentarily glanced up at her therapist, who merely motioned for her to elaborate. "At first, I just chalked it up to having someone I trust in the apartment with me, but even Brian didn't... it wasn't the same... Rafael's just so... understanding? I don't know how to put it in words."
He once again took some time to jot down notes. "Understanding? So you have discussed some of the recent events with him?"
"I have." Once again, he motioned for her to continue. "Vaguely. He knows I was...um..."
"Raped," Lindstrom spoke softly, but he noticed Olivia's cringe at the use of that word. "I see you avoid that word. Can you tell me why?"
"I haven't actually said it. You know, the whole sentence. I mean, I've communicated it, just not in so many words." She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and exhaled slowly. "It's just that... saying that makes it so... final. So real."
More notes. "I see. Olivia, would you like some advice?"
She chuckled kindly. "That's what I'm paying you for."
"Rafael seems to be a positive influence in a time where you are going to need a lot of friends. You can't build a skyscraper without the steal support beams. I know that letting people in can be a challenge when so many others have let you down, and I don't expect a miracle. But maybe you and I should start working together on getting you to a point where you can fully accept help. Even if it is just from one person."
"I... uh... that sounds good. I've actually already been doing a pretty good job with that. Rafael and I had a conversation last night about... it. I fell asleep on his lap, and the other night he helped me back to sleep after a nightmare."
"Is there anybody else? Someone else that you can talk to?"
"Yeah, actually. Fin went with me when I got the kit. I can trust him. And Amanda called the other night. I was pretty short with her at first, but I know she's just trying to help. Things with Patton were... a wreck, at best, so I know that we... uh... have some things in common."
"We've talked about some of the things she's said to you in the past. Do those things still bother you?"
"Yeah..." Olivia sat back, her body pressed in the corner between the back of the couch and the armrest. Her eyes never left the box of tissues on the wooden coffee table. "I think about what she said about therapy all the time. About how at least she doesn't need to pay someone to listen to her feelings. I know Amanda was hurting and she apologized profusely, so I really do understand. Our relationship has improved a lot since then. But... I just... I..."
"It's okay, Olivia. Take your time."
The emotionally weary woman closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths. "I don't mention you anymore. This. And it's not only that I don't want them to think I'm weak, which is a large part of the problem, but I don't want to... need this. I don't want to need to have to pay someone to listen to my feelings. But I do." Olivia felt tears welling in her eyes but wiped them away before they could fall. "I need it."
"How does that make you feel to go to therapy? To talk about scheduling and going to appointments with others?" Even though Lindstrom knew the answer, it was important to have Olivia voice these concerns and acknowledge her feelings verbally.
"It's embarrassing. Even though I know it shouldn't be. I just don't talk about therapy anymore, but I think they all know where I'm going every Friday."
"We've talked at great length about how people perceive you. Or at least what you think they think. Does going to therapy, or even accepting help from another person, still make you feel weak to the same extent as when we started?"
"It's gotten better. You've helped." She sensed that he was silently asking for her to elaborate, so she swallowed and continued. "I know it's false, but I don't feel like I have a lot... um... things going for me right now. I'm a good mother, but my job is inherently demanding and sometimes I feel like I'm... failing Noah. My body isn't the same as it used to be, as shallow as that sounds. I just... sometimes I fall back on my reputation as a comfort. I have a support system, a great one, and I know that. But when... when something happens that makes me look like I'm not the Badass Benson I used to be... it feels like who I am as a person is falling apart. That's who I am. It feels like that's all I am, sometimes. It hurts to admit that I need help, still, but at least I'm aware that some of these fears are fallacious."
Olivia sat up to reach for a tissue and dabbed her face, careful not to smudge her concealing makeup, and took a couple of minutes to pull herself together while Lindstrom took the opportunity to take some notes.
Finally, he spoke up. "I know that you know what I'm about to say. You know the content of my lecture already, and you know it's true. So, I'll keep it short. Getting help, understanding that you need it, is not a sign of weakness. Quite the opposite. You've seen victims that fall into these holes of depression. Of alcoholism. Drugs. Promiscuity. You had so many options, so many vices to chose from. But you've decided to take up therapy and are all the more admirable for it."
Olivia nodded in acknowledgement. "I know."
Lindstrom accepted her answer but wasn't quite done. "How do you treat a broken leg?"
"What?"
"How would you treat a broken leg?"
"Um... put it in a cast. Rest? I don't really know."
"That's right. You'd give it the support of a cast. You'd let it rest, recover, and grow strong again. You wouldn't walk on it or force it to bear unnecessary weight. Would you be embarrassed or mad at yourself because your leg needs those aids to heal?"
She almost scoffed at the silly question but was growing curious as to where this was going. "No..."
"So why are you doing the same with your mental health?"
"I... wow. I don't know."
"I want you to remember this next time you are embarrassed by therapy. Or needing support. You have suffered unimaginable traumas, and now you need aid. That's okay." He checked that the message was really sinking in, then digressed unexpectedly. "There is another thing I want you to remember. Sometimes, when we act embarrassed, it makes others act like the action or the admission was embarrassing. This happens subconsciously. You see this in awkward conversations, too. When one party acknowledges the awkwardness and acts accordingly, the other will match. Soon you're sitting silently in a room instead of having the productive conversation that would have followed a carefree attitude. When you act embarrassed of therapy, of needing help, and try to hide it, you make a bigger deal of the situation than anybody else would have anyway. When they say that confidence is key, they mean it. We've both watched people do and say stupid things but their confidence, their ability to laugh it off, erased any unease in others. Remember that next time you feel self-conscious."
"I will."
"That's good, Olivia. Let's set some goals, shall we?" He saw her nod of confirmation, so he confidently continued. "Baby steps, of course. Do you think you could tell someone close to you what happened? To say the words that you have been avoiding? No need to elaborate or provide detail. Just to admit to yourself, and then to another person, what happened?"
"I guess... I'm not sure I'm ready to do that right now. Actually, I think I could say it to Rafael. But... I don't want to ruin the... normalcy of whatever is going on out there. Normal isn't the right word, I guess, because this isn't normal... I meant... the happiness. All three of us are so... the dynamic is just... happy. " Olivia glanced over at the door to further reference the resonating giggles that could be still be heard occasionally, and a small smile graced her tearful features.
"Acknowledging your limitations is just as important as actually achieving these goals. But I must ask, besides fears of ruining the moment, is any part of you hesitating because you don't want to admit it to yourself or you don't want to admit it to someone else? Maybe both?"
"I... I know that I need to go through a process to recover, and it's going to be hard. But once I say those words... the trauma is so... real. Like the race is starting and now I have no other choice but to trudge forward. I just... I was able to pretend the other day that everything was fine. Even for just a couple of hours. I don't want to start... dealing with everything. That sounds so pathetic, I know-"
"It's not pathetic, Olivia." He placed the tissues on the coffee table in front of Olivia – who was sitting on the edge of the couch – in preparation for diving into such a sensitive topic. "You have been through a lot in a short time period. You don't give yourself enough credit."
She politely smiled, a little, knowing that he was right. "I know, I know."
He paused, his pen hovering over the paper. "Can I ask you something, Olivia?"
Her body tensed at the anticipation of a personal question. "Yeah..."
"Have you been thinking about Lewis more or less often lately?"
"I...um... more." She leaned forward and put her hands in her head, an action that Lindstrom recognized as her way of admitting or processing traumatic information without having to make eye contact with the listener. "I thought that he'd fade out, to be honest. But... it's just so weird..."
"What is weird?"
"My nightmare was mostly Lewis. Joe was there too, at the end. But I don't understand, really, why Lewis is the most prominent in my flashbacks and thoughts. I figured that the blending, which I've experienced before, was just a byproduct of being the... victim," she took a moment to let her "new" label sink in, "of multiple traumas. I just don't understand why Lewis is still the main focus of my PTSD. Not like Joe would be any better but... It feels like... Lewis..." Olivia shook her head, was still in her hands, and felt tears fall as her voice cracked. "I just can't get rid of him."
"The kidnapping, the assaults, the torture... it was a horrific experience, Olivia."
"So was being raped", she shot back with venom. Her own tone shocked her, but Lindstrom was unfazed. After apologizing, Olivia sat back in a new contemplative state.
"You're right. I'm not saying that one was worse or better than the other. They were both horrible. But this new trauma is just that. New. It's only day four after everything, correct?"
"Yeah."
"Four days is not a lot of time. We've already discussed that you are still partially in denial, which is understandable and perfectly normal, but that means that the trauma hasn't had any time to sink in like the Lewis incidents have."
"That uh, that makes sense." Olivia paused to think and to formulate exactly how she could convey her feelings into words. It was like identifying nouns in an abstract painting that was constantly evolving. "I just... hoped – and this sounds so... wrong – but I almost hoped that Joe would push Lewis to the side. That I'd struggle to recover, but I would. I'd get to end things with Joe the way I want to end them. My rules, not his. I'd get closure, and I'd move on eventually. But now... now I'm just thinking about how hard it's going to be, how hard it is, to deal with both traumas at once."
Linstrom did not comment and chose to let her monologue.
"I see Lewis, still. In my dreams, my flashbacks, my body. What am I going to do when I start seeing both of them? When I have to try and recover from two separate traumas at once?"
"Like I said before, Olivia, you don't give yourself enough credit. You've been making progress in therapy with Lewis, and now you are going to start making progress with Utley, eventually. It won't be overnight, and it won't be easy. But I know you, Olivia. Or at least I know enough to know that you will survive this."
Olivia blushed at the semi-complement, but maybe it was just a residual effect of the building adrenaline from thinking about both men. "I know. I will."
Lindstrom looked at the clock and his eyes widened. He must have forgotten to set the timer because they had run 15 minutes over. "We're going to have to wrap things up, Olivia, but I'm happy that you've been open with me."
"When should I schedule my next appointment?"
Happy that Olivia was eager to accept the benefits of therapy, he quickly responded. "This was an emergency appointment, which means that your normal schedule is still intact. Your next appointment will be in three days, but you can cancel or change that. We do need to talk about increasing your number of appointments. Once a week probably isn't going to be enough in these first few weeks. "
"I agree. I'd like to keep my original appointment, actually."
"I'll see you in three days."
"Three days." Olivia rose, after fixing her makeup in the mirror to the right, and said her goodbyes while exiting the office and entering the waiting room.
Noah, who must have been tired out from his hour-long playdate with Uncle Rafa, was resting against the older man's chest while lazily watching cartoons on the iPad in Rafael's hands. Olivia felt a new sense of confidence in her ability to go three days until her next session. After all, she had Noah and Rafael – not to mention the rest of the squad – by her side.
Thanks for reading! Sonny and Amanda will call later when they get back to the apartment, and I might use a suggestion in which Sonny (and Amanda?) comes over to watch Noah while Olivia and Rafael go someplace. Or maybe that, but Amanda brings Jesse over to play? Idk. But Sonny will for sure talk to Rafael about the prosecution (privately of course). I am still thinking about how to use some of your suggestions, and I will use most of them in the fluff coming up, I promise!
