...And I Am Going Home

Oliver 2

It may have been only routine for about a month, but it was his favourite part of his routine despite its inconsistency with Cody's changing work schedule and when he could pick him up. They would finish work at roughly the same time, and Cody would wait for Oliver in his car outside the office, and they would get drive-thru coffee; Oliver always the same drink, Cody always a different drink, and then they would take the leisurely and scenic route back home, talking anything, everything, or nothing. That was the routine.

"And then I would get a coffee before heading home," Oliver eventually continued explaining, leaving out, of course, the more important detail of his routine in the afternoon, that a certain person would normally be present.

After jotting some notes down, his therapist asked, "and today, did you manage to go back to your routine completely? Or were there any differences?"

"No, the same as it always was. Get up, get ready, work, finish work, get coffee, go home," replied Oliver.

Yes, Cody wasn't there.

"Is there anything about your routine that you want to change?"

"No, it's perfect; no need to change it."

Yes, to have Cody back.

"Is there anything that seems more difficult now?"

"No, like riding a bike."

Yes, going home because Cody is... Cody is... is...

"Having a routine can provide a lot of comfort," said his therapist. "And if you stick to it with such discipline, straying off it or being forced to can be quite scary or cause discomfort. Change is already difficult to deal with sometimes, and so someone who is so strict to routine, change is perhaps a horrifying opponent."

Oliver remained silent, though she was looking at him again, prompting to respond perhaps, but she gave no clear indication on what matter he had to reply about.

"In each session, Oliver, you appear to dismiss what has happened to you," she continued. "That it was only for an hour you were kidnapped. And I will still repeat myself, even if I sound like a broken record and you find me annoying, but your feelings about what happened are valid."

Oliver sat stiffly in his seat, still silent, still stony-faced.

"Yes, you may want to compare your experience to the other survivors who were there longer, especially since one of your friends was a part of it, Cody..."

Oliver swallowed, his jaw unclenching for a moment.

"You may think that your hour does not compare to his three weeks of being missing and that your experience is 'nothing', but every pain, no matter how long it lasted or how severe, is still pain."

Oliver wondered how many times she would repeat this each session but was impressed by how she paraphrased and changed the wording, adding something new each time to make it feel fresh.

"It was an hour of something horrible happening to you, Oliver."

Like always, she avoided saying specifics since it would imply he was crazy to believe that a giant human-eating monster existed and kidnapped him.

"And it would affect anyone, even just that amount of time. So please, Oliver, perhaps you may or may not feel that that experience affected you. But at the very least, I would hope that you are honest and not dismiss help just because it seems insignificant compared to the other survivors. These sessions will soon fly by..."

They don't seem like it, thought Oliver.

"And for the moment, they are free, so I do suggest using them wisely." She cleared her throat. "But if you would rather we talk about something else entirely to fill the time or simply sit here in silence, that is also up to you."

Really? Could he just sit here in silence? Was that allowed? But these sessions were mandatory as a means for him to return to work.

"Do you not need to report any of this to my work?" Oliver asked.

"It is all confidential," she replied. "Though if I do find anything of concern, I can suggest to them to give you more time off, or if you need more sessions, they would, of course, not be out of your own pocket."

"I don't need time off."

She smiled slightly in response.

Oliver let out a quiet sigh. He wondered if she was trying to tell him that he needed to cooperate more; otherwise, he would just have to endure more of these sessions.

"I know that talking to people about how you feel, let alone about traumatic experiences, is difficult to navigate, so perhaps instead of talking to me, in the meantime, perhaps writing would help?"

"Writing?"

"Yes, like a diary or journal, write your feelings, or write anything; it can be therapeutic. And you don't have to show me any of it, of course, they can be private. Sometimes writing helps you discover your mind more than talking."

"How will you know I've done it then if I don't show you?" Oliver frowned.

"I suppose you can lie that you have done it." She shrugged. "You could also lie in these sessions when speaking to me; I won't be able to tell."

Oliver's frown deepened. She would be able to tell, wouldn't she? But he hadn't been lying in the sessions, perhaps a bit of omission here and there, but they were details that weren't relevant, just to avoid having to explain something.

"As I said, Oliver, it is up to you how you wish to spend these sessions," she said. "Feel free to write in your spare time or not, to talk or not, but please just don't dismiss help if deep down you know you may need it."