Olivia's Curse

Olivia sat in Dr Lindstrom's office. She'd been prescribed once a week, until the good Doc would approve her for active duty, and for the first time in her stubborn life, she went without a fight. She actually couldn't wait to go. It was her fourth time in 3 weeks, and she looked forward to her sessions.

The office was cozy and modern with a seating choice of a comfy couch or a wooden chair by a window. And the doctor himself was exactly what Olivia expected or anticipated a therapist to be; intuitive, soft-spoken, inviting, warm, and professional. The first few sessions focused on her abduction and little by little she began to gain herself back, her confidence back, and attempt to make sense of her life.

"You seem to be in high spirits today," Lindstorm welcomed her in.

"I…am actually," she hesitantly agreed. "I'm starting to see some light. Though I keep waiting for the piano to fall from the sky. Ha. One day at a time, as they say," she smiled and made herself at home.

Her shoes were off and she curled up on the couch today instead of the stiff wooden chair.

"Olivia, that's wonderful. Tell me what's been happening. Did you an Brian work things out?"

"Ah…hmm, well, I can't really get to the good without the bad, but no. Brian and I called it off a few days ago and I took Elliot up on his spare bedroom offer."

"Oh…okay. So, tell me about that decision," he lightly grinned.

"Okay. You know how I was saying last week that I felt like I was forced out of my life, mentally, violated physically…but also my apartment was completely destroyed."

"Yes, and you weren't sure if you should be relying on your boyfriend, Brian, and…"

"Elliot. My…old partner, friend…Elliot and his spare bedroom."

"Yes, but you seemed to get over it."

"It wasn't easy, but I came to the conclusion that I needed help. You and I talked about me not feeling bad about accepting help, especially during time of crisis, and so I very much so took that to heart last week."

"Very good," he responded with wide eyes.

"I was living with Brian, because I didn't want to hurt his feelings. And if that is the relationship I'm watering, then I needed to know he can take care of me at my worst. But for weeks I've been going back and forth with Brian. This whole thing really brought out the worst in our relationship. He's jealous and angry of Elliot, which I can understand. Elliot has a presence about him, and he's very protective of me. We fought one night when my partner Amaro stopped by with dinner and to fill me in on work. If he wasn't jealous and angry, he was at work. And I thought about it. Brian never even took a day off. The day after I was found, he was back at work 15 hours later. Here I am, fighting demons alone in his shitty apartment. Caring for his feelings over my own. I had to put my foot down. I needed him, and he wasn't there for me..at all. And I never need anyone. I have never asked for help. I was an only child. I raised myself. I took care of my alcoholic mother. I know how to self-sooth. But this…is bigger than childhood trauma. And I shouldn't feel bad about leaning on others, even if the other person is…Elliot. And, it has been hard for me to be alone…especially at night. I ended up calling Elliot after a few bad episodes, and that felt like more of a burden than actually being at his house. So I told Brian I needed a break and that…he means a lot to me, but I needed more from him, and he agreed, but couldn't provide what I deserved, and that was…that was that. Elliot handed me a spare key and promised to give me the space that I needed when I needed it, but has also been a great comfort, when I needed it."

"Are you sleeping well?"

Liv's mind flickered to her panic attacks. Most of the time they happened at night, when all was too quiet. Several times she has woken up in a cold sweat or screaming. A few times she didn't even remember dreaming, but had found Elliot the next day in the bed laying next to her, as stiff as a corpse with his hands on his chest and his body as far to the edge of the mattress as he could get, as not to make her feel like he was making any kind of move on her while she was surviving nightmares and severe PTSD.

"I'll take that long pause as a no," Lindstrom then wrote in his notebook and pulled out a prescription from the page.

"Sleeping is hit or miss."

"Nightmares?"

"And panic attacks…I find myself…going over things when my mind is quiet…"

Lindstrom handed Olivia a Kleenex to catch the tears falling from her eyes.

"Eh…just when you think you've cried enough about this, there's still more in there," she composed herself and hugged the pillow. "Lewis had a way of picking at my thoughts and manipulating the weakest versions of myself. It wasn't the physical harm that haunts me in my sleep. It's the things that he said…things that nobody has ever really challenged me about. Things I would think about myself on occasion and then brush off. He cracked open those…denials and reminded me why I had never wanted to truly question them."

"What kind of thoughts do you feel like you've pushed away?"

"Simple things really. Normal things. Um…like that I'm thirty nine and I'm not married. I've never even been proposed to. Ah….no children. Not even a pet. No family. My apartment is small and nobody ever visits, nor do I invite them to visit. I date on occasion but I always find a reason to back out or put work first. And I have my coworkers, who are like family, and who I know I could reach out to any time, but we rarely hang out after hours. Not really. I mean a drink here and there. But I've never been to any of their apartments and they've never seen the inside of mine…oh….I guess that's not true. I guess they've all seen my apartment now…when Lewis…"

"Have you ever wanted those things?"

"I…thought I did. At one point in my twenties and early thirties, I for sure wanted all of those things. I watched Elliot for twelve years juggle a wife and kids, and our job, and thought, if he could do it, I could. And then…his wife left him. And I thought..well, maybe you can't have it all. Because if they couldn't survive it, I surely couldn't. Elliot is the most loyal husband and father…man that I know. All that being said, I still think about being a mother. In fact, seeing Elliot recently in his big apartment, taking care of his son, brought all of that back up…"

"You talk about Elliot alot. Is there something more to that, than just friendship?"

"Elliot," the thoughts swirled in her mind. "How to explain Elliot. He's…I can trust him with anything. But it's complicated. And he's hurt me before. He's left me before. He's chosen…his family, his ex-wife, and other women before in the past. And his loyalty to marriage and family is admirable, but it scares me. If I couldn't live up to that level of commitment…I can't even say it. He's all I have in this world. I think about what would happen if I messed that up. I have no one. No parents. My brother is dead. No siblings. I would rather stay his close friend, then to lose him…if we don't work out."

"Hmmm," Dr Lindstrom looked down and started writing.

"Oh boy! You're writing. And I know what you're writing. I have daddy issues. My father abandoned me. My mother was never present emotionally. So I don't take risks on relationships, because of that. And you're right, but my feelings are based on the pattern that has always been."

"What pattern is that?"

"The pattern where love and happily ever after never seems to be on the next page of my shambles of a fairy tale. The pattern that is now tainted even more by Lewis taunting me in my dreams or every time I see a woman walk by me on the street with a baby or every time I'm sitting alone in an empty apartment waiting for a man to..save me. It's pathetic. And he even said that to me. 'You're pathetic'. And he was right."

"Olivia, we set and break our own patterns. Lewis just saw you react to something and played that angel. You're not pathetic."

"Yeah yeah. That's exactly what I tell my victims, but I'm telling you, I am cursed."

He laughed. "That's one diagnosis. I am going to prove you wrong and help you break that curse."

"You just help me get back to my job, and we'll be golden," She smiled back avoiding the topic of pattern breaking. "I am good at my job. And that's what I can count on. I have my work. I have my successes at work. I love my work. That is my calling."

"You are very good at your job, I can tell, but you seem to think that your job is all you are. Do you feel like you're living life to its fullest?"

"Is my job all I need in this life? No. I'm lying to myself if I think that my job is all I am. And those are the thoughts that Lewis preyed on. Those were the things that have always kept me up at night. They just seem so much worse coming from a psycho monster's mouth in the darkest part of my memories."

"Sounds like Lewis made you question some big life choices. Maybe even regrets. But you said for yourself, these ideas are all simple things. They are simple ideas. We could put a spin on all of this and instead of saying that Lewis broke you, that maybe, this was the crack that you needed to start something new for yourself."

"That's a pretty hellacious crack. If there's a god, I would hope he were kinder."

"God or not, you're a tough woman to crack," he tried to lightly say to her. She couldn't disagree.

"Let's start with your home. What's keeping you from getting a nicer apartment? Or giving yourself some longer off-duty time, so that you can create some 'normal' things for you, in your life?"

"Time was always the excuse, but now that I'm being forced to sit at home for lord knows how many weeks, and I'm essentially homeless, there is no better time to change things up," she nodded, but she wanted to rip off all of her finger nails. Her chest felt tight just thinking about change.

"You say that like it's going to be difficult for you."

"Have you ever tried finding an apartment in Manhattan?"

"Many times," he smiled.

"Well, I hate it. I hate moving. I hate finding a realtor. I hate going from place to place guessing what the neighbors are going to be like or what the hot water, rat, roach, late night security guard is going to be like. I don't do well with change, can you tell," She nervously blushed.

"I can see that. But you just created a baby step for yourself. Finding an apartment that you would want to host friends in," Lindstorm slapped his pen on the pad. His twinkling eyes brought some hope back into her thoughts. "That's a great first step to a new beginning. Your home is a place where you should want to invite people in to see and share it with you. Right?"

"Yeah," she started to lighten up.

"A place you can host parties for your co-workers and have a guest over. Maybe someone you love, even. You said you have co-worker friends, but not sure if they are off-duty friends. Have you ever invited them to do something outside of work? Talked about something that wasn't work related with them?"

"No..not really," she said almost sullenly so.

"Why not?"

She thought about it for a second and in the past she could have easily said Elliot's wife or anger at Rollins for taking over Elliot's desk.

"It's just not something I could ever do with my old partner, and so, I think it became a standard unspoken rule for me. You work, maybe have a drink, and you go home. But with my new partners…eh…I don't know…I think maybe I just felt like they wouldn't want to. Like…it would be awkward. And for a long time I was too sad about Elliot leaving. I didn't want to make nice with new people. I missed Elliot. That transfer broke my heart. And also I'm their senior. I've been at SVU the longest, next to our Captain, and I wouldn't want to ask and then make them feel like they had to say yes."

"I could see how you might make them feel intimidated because of your rank, but it's possible they don't ask you, because they need you to take the lead."

"Maybe. Probably," she nodded.

"Sometimes, if you want something, you have to make the first move."

She nodded again. "Right."

"And Elliot, is back in your life, but not as your partner. He's opened his home to you. I've seen him drop you off. Your face lights up a room when you say his name."

"Does it," she touched her cheek.

Lindstrom's cheeks flushed with her as she made that connection. "Just think about it. Maybe the pattern that needs to break, needs you to break it. Make the first move."

For the next few weeks, Olivia took Elliot up on his guest bedroom while she found a new place and worked on herself. She took her meds. Went to therapy. Did acupuncture. Signed up for kickboxing and self defense. She bought some new clothes. And more importantly she was back at work a week earlier than she'd expected. Things were looking up, and she even found an apartment with everything on her wish list. Full security, a large kitchen, entertainment area, windows with a view, close to the precinct, and a second bedroom for guests. The lease was signed, the keys were in hand, and all that was left was for her to move in.

She smiled to herself in the big open kitchen with the large windows and called Elliot. "Hey," she smiled. "I just signed a lease."

"That's great news. Can't wait to see it. How do you feel about it?"

"I feel like the long-lost 5th friend from Sex and the City, and I'm waiting for closing credit jazz music to start as I gaze out at the Hudson River from my gorgeous kitchen windows."

"Ha, Detective of Sex Crimes on Sex and the City. I can't tell if that'd be good television or if you would be the Debbie Downer of every girl's night. Samantha put your clothes back on. Take a condom. Carrie, Big is a lying narcissist and you only like him because you have a beauty and the beast complex. Charlotte do not go home with that man, you are much too drunk. I'm driving you all home."

Olivia laughed at his impersonation of her on a show she'd really only watched a handful of times before the writing drove her insane.
"And just like that, Elliot Stabler knows more about sex and the city than I do. Tell me, how do you know all of their names," she jabbed.

"I have three grown daughters. I know more than I ever wanted to know about trendy feminist pop culture."