Page 26 of Love and Other Mental Health Concerns
“Come on in, sit on the far side of the bar so people don’t see you.”
“You’re a life saver.”
“Don’t mention it. Two beers coming right up.” Ted puts down our drinks and disappears to the kitchen.
We sit, and Nick is sweating and jittery. I hold his hand, putting my other on his back. “Nick, you don’t have to say anything, but can you take some deep breaths with me?” He follows my cues, and his shaking starts to ease a bit. “Great, nowif you can, I want you to try and focus on just you and me, sitting at this bar. Can you tell me about this stool here?”
He doesn’t say anything, and I don’t push. His body is calming, breathing seems back to normal. He finally looks at me and speaks. “What are you doing Marcy? This isn’t necessary.”
“I think I’m helping you through a little panic attack, Nick. This might not surprise you, but I have had a few myself.” There’s a sheen to his blue eyes as they lock on mine, and he gives a faint nod in understanding. A stark juxtaposition between the vulnerable softness of him now and the bold poise of our time together, before hurricane parents ran through us.
“I’m sorry that the day took a turn, I’m embarrassed. I was having a great time and now its ruined. I can just walk you home and we can forget the whole day happened.” He speaks in defeat.
Now I am getting annoyed. “Forget the whole day happened? I was having a nice time until about 30 minutes ago. It was more than nice, it was great. What happened back there?” He shifts his weight on his stool, bringing his elbows to the bar top, picking at the label on the side of his beer.
“My parents, they obviously aren’t too impressed with me. I was supposed to follow in my dad’s footsteps, work at his financial planning firm, marry a girl with a house on Lake Minnetonka, make the real money, carry on his legacy. Let’s just say, from a young age, I made it clear those weren’t my plans, and have paid for it since.” He takes a deep swig from his beer.
“When did you tell them you weren’t interested in that life?”
“I knew by my freshman year in high school that I wanted a different path from the one they laid out for me. I liked numbers well enough, but I hated the social circles that my parents are still involved in. I didn’t want my life to become country club memberships and superficial relationships. Their priority is money over everything else.” So, I guess my vision of Nick growing up with the perfect family life was a little skewed.
“That hardly seems fair, Nick. You are an adult; it is your life.”
“I know, it isn’t my job to live up to their expectations, but that’s the thing about being someone’s child, isn’t it? No matter how old you get, they will always be your parents. Good or bad. For me, it’s been more bad than good since I acquired any semblance of self-awareness or critical thinking.” He finishes his beer in a couple more gulps. I wave Ted down for another round.
“Yeah, I noticed your mom doesn’t hold back much.”
“Oh Marcy,” Nick puts his forehead on the bar “I am so sorry about her. It was nice that you offered to spend time with them, but their rejection wasn’t personal. That’s about me, nothing to do with you.” I nodded, but did want to revisit this topic eventually. “Shiny new toy” wasn’t exactly a moniker I was comfortable with. And even his nearly estranged parents were aware of his reputation? Yikes. I take another swig from my beer too.
“Where do you go?” I ask him.
“What do you mean?”
“After that interaction with them, you weren’t yourself. You were lost, and deflated, and I couldn’t recognize you anymore.” Maybe this was getting too personal, but I was struggling to understand how his mood can switch so quickly. Plus, I knew that look, that lost look.
“Right.” He stills. “Well, my therapist thinks that I tend to regress around my parents. That no matter the pride I have in my work and how my life has gone up until this point, around them I turn back into the teenager that never felt like I was enough around them. Grades not good enough, girls they didn’t approve of, goals they couldn’t understand. So, I tend to shut down and haven’t yet stood up for myself.”
“You see a therapist?” I ask.
“It’s 2025 Marcy, everyone should be seeing a therapist.” He says so casually, if only he knew what a turn on that response was. The second beer bottle label falls from his bottle.
“What stops you from standing up for yourself?” I ask.
“Do you remember our meeting with Keith? Where I was a bit…harsh with him?” He sighs deeply.
I nod, of course I remember. “Yes, I do.”
“Well, I don’t love that side of me. Honestly, I haven’t lashed out like that in years, I just…” He pauses and looks away from me like he’s in pain. “Anyway, I’m afraid that if I start standing up for myself, it could be the end of my relationship with them, and I don’t know if I am ready for an end yet, even if they do make me somewhat miserable.” It resonates, especially since I didn’t have parents of my own anymore. I would want them back, especially my mom, even if she was still making my life miserable.
“What made you react that way with Keith, by the way?” I knew it was a loaded question, starting to tread in some territory that maybe neither one of us was ready to explore. He had been holding my hand today though, and that felt like something. Something more than friends.
“Well, I don’t love that I took it there. It’s the first time that has happened in years, like I said. Never happened in a work environment before, but there was something about the way he was dismissing you that struck a nerve. I know that feeling all too well.” He paused for a breath and another drink of his beer. “I think you can tell already Marcy, but I do think you are special. You are smart, talented, and you have strong instincts. He shouldn’t have tried to make you feel anyway but empowered. That’s one of our biggest jobs as administrators, empowering the people around us to own their work.” He pauses again, looking down at his bottle for a moment before turning to me. “It turns out that I have a bit of a soft spot when it comesto you, and he poked it. I felt protective, even if that wasn’t appropriate. That might be the reason.” His admission makes my knees weaken, and I am thankful for the support of the bar stool. I put my hand over his, rubbing my thumb against his wrist, tracing a wrinkle there. He returns my gesture with a half-convincing smile and stands like he is going leave.
“Well, it was a bit of a switch from the sunshine you typically project.” I admit.
“Sunshine, huh?” He gives a little more of a grin but looks to the floor. “Well, I prefer feeling sunny, especially when I am around you. I won’t let anyone disrespect you though.” He looks at me now, our eyes hanging on each other. “I had a great afternoon, sorry for how it ended. Enjoy the rest of your beer, but I think I am going to head back to the hotel. I’m not exactly great company at the moment, I need to regroup. See you at work?” I debate begging him to stay, to keep talking with me, but can tell that he’s uncomfortable and I know that feeling too well.
“Sure, see you at work.” He gives me hand a gentle squeeze, and I watch him leave, his back and shoulders still not recovered from the proverbial punch in the gut by his parents. Seeing this vulnerable side of him has left my heart aching. He clearly feels he needs to go through things alone, a challenge I find myself battling often.
