Page 59 of Shadows and Whispers

“Have you discussed this with her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She doesn’t know anything about any of this.”

And there it was. She finally allowed the mask to slip just for a second to express her disapproval of me keeping my disorder from my future wife, but then it was back in place.

“Why haven’t you told her?”

Because I don’t like feeling like a fucking charity case. A crazy person. Weak.

“I will.”

“That’s not what I asked you, Elias. My question was why haven’t you told her.”

I just stared blankly at her and she did the same for a long moment. “If you’re marrying someone that means you trust them wholly and fully with your life and who you are. If you cannot be open enough to discuss a part of yourself that somewhat defines who you are and will play a major role in the success or possible failure of your union then I have to question whether or not marriage is the right choice to make right now.”

“Marriage isn’t always about love. Sometimes it’s as simple as a business deal where two people come together with a singular goal to accomplish.”

“Is that what your marriage will be? A business deal.”

“More or less.”

She eyed me for a minute before her expression softened. “Do you mind if I give you my personal opinion right now, not a clinical one?”

“No.”

“Your marriage might be a business deal but, I feel that you want more from this deal than just a mutual benefit. You’re very good at controlling your reactions, hiding behind the mask you wear on a daily basis, but I’m also very good at reading people. You have given me everything I need to gauge what the true issue is.”

“Which is?”

“You care about this woman. Your feelings are rooted in something more than just a mutually agreed upon singular goal. You’re afraid of what that means to your expectations about this marriage. You’re concerned about whether or not she will accept this part of you. There may be other stressors that are testing your control but she is the most relevant. Would you be willing to agree that I’m right about that?”

I chuckled lightly, shaking my head. She was indeed good. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Thank you for being honest.”

“Not like you gave me a choice.”

She smiled. “I’m not Dr. Harrington. She was a great resource. And is very accomplished but based on the notes from your sessions, you did the bare minimum. She allowed you to. If that’s your expectation for me, I suggest you find another therapist. I can provide some recommendations.”

Isn’t this some shit.

“You’ll work…”

For now…

“Good to know. Now let’s discuss adjusting your meds.”

I looked her in the eyes. “You’re going to agree…”

“If you trust me to do my part, I’ll trust you to do yours. No one knows you better than you. There are things that I can take into account to make decisions about how to treat you, Elias, but the most relevant is your honesty about what’s going on internally. Prior to losing your brother, you did well managing your disorder. After your slip, you’ve managed to remain on track for the past couple years. That tells me you’re responsible with your treatment and fully committed to the process. If you feel you need an adjustment, I’m more than willing to work with you. If I find that it’s not working well one way or the other, I’ll step in. For now, I trust that you can be an active voice that navigates how we deal with your treatment. I like to consider us partners. We’ll work together to find a combination that best suits where you are in your life with the understanding that things often shift and change. Agreed?”

“Yeah, I can fuck with that.”

“Good but I need you to make me a promise.”

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