A/N: Thank you to Black Dragon Master, AsahixMe, Tertius711, IrishDreamer4, Sharpe, Aquamirra, and devilfiredog18 for reviewing on chapter 16.
Also, this story has now hit over 100 reviews! You all have my undying gratitude for consistently taking the time to leave some feedback. I appreciate ALL of the reviews (and I often reread them for motivation and inspiration).
17. I ain't gonna hide these beautiful scars
He enters the room with a smile on his face and a spring in his step.
"You're in a good mood today," Erin observes, a note of curiosity in her voice.
"They let me join a raid on a Triple Threat meeting."
"It went well, I take it?"
"Pretty good, yeah." Tokuga hadn't been there — Xien probably wouldn't have let him go if they'd suspected the triad leader would be around — but they'd rounded up a fair number of underlings and he'd personally aided the capture of two of them.
Erin nods thoughtfully. "Come sit, Mako."
He does so, rather wary now. These sessions usually go in one of two ways: either he really doesn't want to cooperate because the issue they're addressing is sensitive, and Erin has to drag compliance out of him; or the topic or activity is mild enough that he's more than willing to go through with it if it means getting better faster. He'd come in with the mindset that today would be the latter, but watching Erin flip through pages on her clipboard, he feels like it might be the former instead.
"I've been looking over my notes since you started seeing me. You've made a lot of progress."
"Thanks," he says cautiously. He's sure there's a 'but' somewhere.
"But —" And there it is. "— you still seem to be under the impression that there will eventually come a day when you'll be fully recovered, and none of this is going to bother you anymore."
That startles — and unnerves — him. "Isn't there?"
"Maybe." Erin's response is very noncommittal. "Maybe not."
"What does that mean?" He's been holding on to the hope that everything he's enduring — the slow process, confronting his demons, learning to move past his injuries — that it's all to recover, so that the nightmares and the bad memories and the feelings of tension and despair will all disappear and never come back.
Now Erin is implying that there is a possibility he will never get there, never be completely 'normal' — and he feels like the rug has been pulled out from under him.
Why is he going through all this if he won't ever be able to recover completely? What's the point?
"Mako, stop. You're thinking of the worst again."
With effort, he pulls his thoughts from their despondent direction. Apparently that's another one of his problems — always expecting the worst. A healthy dose of paranoia is a valuable asset in his line of work, but as Erin keeps reminding him, he can't let it carry him away.
"Look, the field of mental healing is very new," Erin explains. "There's a lot we don't know. What we do know is that certain things — like the traumas you've been through — sometimes they never really go away entirely. For better or worse, they are a part of you forever. That does not mean you can't live normally — you should know by now that you can learn to live with them, and not let them affect your life. That's been the goal of our sessions all along — to help you learn to cope with everything you've buried so it doesn't send you spiralling."
She pauses to check his understanding, and he nods.
"I meant what I said, Mako. You've made excellent progress. You've restored your firebending, you've overcome your fear of being underwater, you've learned to let people in and talk about your problems and emotions. There's still things to work on, of course — but by and large, you have improved wonderfully."
"But?" he prods.
"But you also need to be aware that there isn't a finite end to this process. Mental recovery is not like physical recovery. You can heal completely from many physical injuries and be good as new, with no lingering aftereffects. It's very rare for that to happen mentally."
"Some injuries don't heal the same," he points out, thinking of pro-benders he knew who had to quit because they blew out their knee, or permanently damaged their muscle.
"Of course, some don't," Erin allows. Her eyes fall on his left sleeve, which they both know hides the rough, red, rope-like maze wrapping around his entire forearm. "And some of them leave scars — permanent reminders of the injury even if it's long healed."
He tugs self-consciously at his sleeve and she returns her gaze to his face.
"My point is, Mako, that our experiences leave scars. Mentally and emotionally, much more than physically. And those scars stay with us for life. You learn to cope, you learn to live with them — but you can't ever go back to the way you were before you had those experiences.
"I'm very pleased that you've been feeling good in recent weeks. I just don't want you to be discouraged if, at some point in the future, the nightmares or the negative emotions come back in some way. It happens, and it does not mean that you're right back at square one. The important thing is that you don't let it control you when it happens, and you find support to deal with it — whether that's me or someone else."
He frowns, absorbing her words — and then he sighs in resignation. "Does it ever get easier?"
"Sometimes. With time, and practice, and truth."
Something about the way she says truth has him suspicious again. He narrows his eyes at her.
As always, though, Erin is unperturbed. "I'd like to address your feelings for Korra today."
He makes a noise of complaint. "What is there to discuss? I've been honest about that."
"To everyone but Korra."
He freezes.
"When was the last time you spoke to Korra?"
"I, uh…I don't remember." Lies. He knows full well the last time they spoke was when he woke up in the hospital, apart from the odd letter while he was in Zaofu.
"Mako."
He sighs. "A little over four months."
Erin frowns. "I know the Avatar is busy in the Earth states, but don't you even write?"
"I haven't. Yet." He hasn't known what to write.
"Does she write to you?"
"Sometimes."
"And you don't reply?"
"No…"
Erin looks exasperated. "Mako, why are you avoiding Korra?"
"Because I know I'll have to tell her the truth," he blurts.
There is silence for a moment. He fidgets, awkwardly rubbing his arm as Erin studies him carefully.
"Would that be so bad?"
He groans. "I don't know. I just…I don't know how she'll react. We're finally in a place where things aren't awkward, and I'm afraid that if I say anything…I'm going to mess it up. Again."
"But you're not even speaking with her at the moment," Erin points out. "How is that not awkward?"
"I don't know," he says again. This is one thing he hasn't been able to come to terms with. Out of all the issues he and Erin have discussed, there's really only two they haven't dealt with to her satisfaction: lightningbending, and his reluctance to tell Korra how he feels.
The latter is way more complicated than the former. His current disinclination to bend lightning is both easy to understand and likely to be resolved eventually, the same way he overcame his aversion to water. His unwillingness to confess to Korra, however, stems from a deep-seated, tangled mass of emotions — including, but not limited to: wariness from their previous history with each other; remorse for the people they hurt with their romance (Bolin and Asami, not to mention each other); fear of breaking their friendship; and an odd mix of envy, longing, suppressed resentment, guilt for said resentment, and friendly support regarding Korra's current relationship with Asami.
Erin is both compassionate and good at her job, so she doesn't push too far. Instead, she tells him, "It's your choice whether to tell her or not, of course. But despite whatever else you and Korra were or are or will be, your friendship with her is one of the greatest treasures you could have. All I'm saying is you shouldn't let that fall by the wayside because you're a little bit uncomfortable."
Spirits damn it, why is she always right?
Erin says nothing more on the topic, and they spend the rest of the session talking about his relationships with other people in his life.
He leaves with thoughts weighing his mind and contemplative steps.
A/N: Lyric is from 'Beautiful Scars' by Maximilian.
Again, I'd like to re-emphasise that mental health issues aren't something that goes away forever and ever, even after the recovery process, and that it's perfectly normal but not the end of the world if they return in some way at some point in the future. The goal of psychotherapy is usually not to CURE, at least not completely - because that usually isn't possible - but to develop healthy and effective coping methods and sort of retrain your brain to minimise the effects of the issue. I see a lot of fics dealing with mental health, but not many of them actually take you through the process of recovery or show that these things are lifelong struggles - you learn to adapt and live with them, but most aren't lucky enough to have them literally NEVER bother them again.
Hence, this moment for Mako is important because he learns that while he may overcome his traumas, they are still going to stay with him, and he has to accept that and not let it bog him down. Too often people stop working on their recovery because a brief relapse makes them feel like it'll never work, so then they give up and relapse even worse.
PSA: Relapses happen, and you can get through them.
...right, my psychology background is done asserting itself for now.
See y'all on Saturday!