A Visit to the Shrink

Posted on Fri 28th Jun, 2019 @ 12:02am by Commander Paul Graves PsyD & Lieutenant Commander Dallas Briggs
Edited on on Sun 11th Aug, 2019 @ 12:34am

1,039 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: A Diplomatic Affair
Location: Deck 83, Chief Counselor's Office
Timeline: MD 5, 1430

Dallas and Victoria walked down a quiet corridor as they headed for the Counselor’s office. “I really don’t want to go see a Counselor, I’m not crazy. Just because I have nightmares almost every night of the explosion and your death. Just because I wake up in a sweat yelling out your name, and I talk to a ghost..” Dallas hesitated, “I am crazy, aren’t I?”

"No, sweetie, no, you aren't," Victoria assured him. "Seeing the counselor doesn't mean a person is crazy. It means there's something you need help to handle. You haven't dealt with my death. You aren't healing, and you need to, so you can go on living and enjoying the gifts you have. The counselor can help you. The nightmares aren't good for you, either. Counseling can help you deal with those things in the light of day, and stop struggling with them at night. That's all. It doesn't mean you are crazy."

She punched him in the arm, and her hand went right through him. "Well, anyway, see I am not completely coping with being dead, either. I still think I can smack sense into you," she laughed. "Ghosts are real, so you aren't seeing someone who isn't here. I'm pretty sure that doctor saw me, or was at least aware of me. Just because others don't see me, doesn't mean you are imagining I'm here. It doesn't mean you are crazy."

“I guess we will leave it up to the counselor to decide,” Dallas teased as they reached the counselor's door. Briggs pushed the door chime and straightened his uniform. “Did I tell you today that I love you?” As soon as the words came out of his mouth a young, attractive Ensign walked by and chuckled at his words. “See, she thinks I’m crazy.”

His wife's ghost laughed merrily. "Maybe, but I think you just made her day, as well as mine. Love is eternal, Dal. We'll always have that, even when you move on with your life."

In his office, Paul heard the chime and went to open his door. He blinked for a moment at the sheer height of the officer standing in the doorway. The man was a good three or four inches taller than Paul himself and built like a Marine. "Lt. Briggs?" Paul asked.

Dallas nodded and smiled, “Counselor, how are you doing? I hope you’re ready for a hard case.” He held out his hand. “I would say it’s nice to meet you, and maybe one day I will.”

Oh, if you only knew the challenging case I am currently dealing with! Paul thought, vastly amused. He didn't let it show, however, and simply shook Briggs' hand. "It's good to meet you, Lieutenant," Paul said. "Come on inside. Would you like coffee or anything before we sit?"

"How about a bourbon, neat," Dallas joked, then added, "or an iced tea would be nice." He went to the sofa that faced a chair. "You don't want me to lie down, do you?" Briggs had always heard the joke about lying down, but never understood it.

"You are so bad, Lieutenant!" Victoria scolded. "Play nice with this man. He doesn't know you and might not understand your sense of humor. There is something ... different about him, though," she mused.

"Lie down? Only if you plan to take a nap," Paul said to Briggs, "but it would be an expensive nap. One iced tea, coming up." He ordered a tumbler of iced black tea for Briggs from the replicator and lemon water for himself, with an assortment of sweeteners, and placed everything on the coffee table in his seating area. He glanced at Briggs and had the oddest feeling of sensing two people sitting on the sofa. Briggs, whose emotions felt by far the stronger, was anxious and felt awkward being there. The other, weaker presence, felt amused and confident. Odder than that was the bond he subliminally felt between the two. The problem? Only Lt. Briggs was present.

It was like being in a room with Thing.

That's odd Paul thought. What am I seeing? He sipped from his water to give himself time to mull that over and then spoke. "Thank you for coming here, Lieutenant; it's good to meet you. How can I help you today?"

Dallas chuckled, “It may take more than a day to help me, Counselor.” He paused for a moment noting that his humor might just be some type of cooping mechanism and probably wasn’t appreciated. “I need to find out if I’m crazy for one. How I can grieve for my wife, that would be two,” he said.

“I have nightmares, most nights, the explosion ... my wife’s death. I wake up yelling out her name and in a sweat, and other than that, I might be crazy. When I met my supervisor for the first time, I yelled at her and was ready to find another assignment all because of one sentence she said, or at least how she said it. I think I might be going crazy, and I haven’t even mentioned the big one yet,” Briggs said, expecting to be kicked out and thrown into the Psych Ward.

"Dal, you just mentioned the word crazy three times in less than two minutes!" Victoria exclaimed.

"The kind of help I'm able to give usually does take more than a day, if it's to have a lasting effect," Paul agreed. "There is no correct way to grieve for someone; only your way, because every person is different. I have had other patients who have lost loved ones suddenly, in traumatic ways. It sounds as if your wife's death was quite recent, so waking up in nightmares is not an unusual thing. We can work on that."

Paul set his water glass down. "What concerns me the most is that you've expressed a fear of being crazy several times in less than five minutes. If you are able to question your sanity, then you are sane. However, something is causing you to fear its loss, so we should talk about that."

 

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