Authors: T. H. Snyder
I’m a part of that twenty percent.
I read further and find myself in absolute shock with this next statistic. Sixteen percent of those same questioned students have been bullied through email and social media.
Shit and I thought what I’ve dealt with was bad, it doesn’t seem like much of anything compared to what some kids my age are going through.
“Zar Evans.”
I hear my name being called by a deep voice and I look up.
Standing before me in the small waiting area is a tall, middle aged man with dark brown hair and eyes that almost look silver. He walks over to me and extends his hand.
“I’ll assume you’re Zar since you are the only one in here,” he says with a smile.
I stand to greet him and reach my hand to shake his.
I jerk from his touch. His hands are ice cold, yet when he grips my hand I feel comforted.
This is the weirdest sensation.
I clear my thoughts and smile.
“Yes, I’m Zar Evans,” I say, releasing my hand from his.
Turning to my parents they both begin to stand.
“It nice to meet all of you, I’m Dr. Reynolds,” he says, while shaking my parent’s hands.
“This is my mom, Roberta and my dad, Troy. I hope that it’s okay, but I’d like for them to be a part of my first session.”
The nerves that had finally calmed are now starting to stir back up again.
My mom grabs for my hand and my dad places his hand on my back.
Thank god for their support right now.
“Yes of course that’s fine with me, why don’t the three of you follow me into my office and we can get started.”
I nod my head and follow my dad through the waiting room and into the doctor’s office.
Taking in a deep breath I feel my mom’s hand leave mine and come up along my back. She reaches her arm around my waist and pulls me in close to her.
“We are going to get through this together Zar, don’t give up on yourself now. Just continue to take in breaths and take it slow. No one is rushing you through this. Remember, we love you.”
“Thank you mom for being here with me today and every day, I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you.”
“I know honey. Everything is going to be fine. You’ll see, I promise,” she says, giving me a kiss on the forehead and allowing me to walk forward behind dad.
Her words mean so much to me, more than they ever have.
I know what I need to do and I’m more ready than I ever thought I’d be.
Change, that’s all this really is about and I’m no longer scared about what that may mean.
I want to change my outlook on life.
I need to stand up for myself.
I have to bring the old Zar back.
Today is the day it will all start to happen for me and for all of the others that are hurting with this pain.
Standing in Dr. Reynolds’s office I glance around the room. The walls aren’t quite as bright as they were in the waiting area; instead they are a warm beige color with dark wood molding. There’s a large shelving unit filled with books surrounded by a couch and love seat, on the right, a table with chairs and to the left, a desk with various picture frames that I can only assume is his.
I’m not quite sure how all this works or where I’m even supposed to sit. I glance around the room again and then look to my parents. I shrug my shoulders and they both smile at me. Ugh, a lot of help they are right now.
“Why don’t you take a seat wherever you’re comfortable Zar and I’ll be right there,” the doctor says, walking over to a bookcase behind his desk.
I look to my mom and she gestures for me to go find a seat.
I let my feet move me toward the back wall toward the couch and love seat.
“Why don’t we all take a seat and we can get started,” Dr. Reynolds says.
I choose to sit on the couch with mom and dad taking a seat on either side of me. The doctor sits on the love seat facing us and pulls out what looks like an iPad or some other type of electronic tablet.
“To get started, I’d just like to run through some of the reports I’ve received and review your background information,” he says, looking up from his tablet.
“Okay, yeah sure,” I respond.
My hands begin to twist on my lap and even though I know I’m ready, I’m still nervous as hell.
The next few minutes he asks me questions about my family, school and any social activities that I’m involved with outside of my typical home setting. I answer all of his questions as honestly as possible and feel proud of myself for not going into panic mode.
He sets the tablet on the table in front of us, leans forward with his elbows on his legs and laces his fingers together.
“Who do you trust?” He asks me, crossing his right leg over his left.
Hmm, that’s a question I’ve never really thought about before.
I look to either side of me to my parents. As if they will be able to answer the question for me, I roll my eyes.
“Zar,” Dr. Reynolds says.
“Hmm,” I reply.
Mom nudges me in the side and my head twists in her direction.
I quickly turn back toward Dr. Reynolds.
“Did you hear my question Zar?” He asks again, positioning himself back against the love seat.
“Yes, I’m sorry,” I reply.
“No need to be sorry Zar, you didn’t do anything wrong. So back to the question; who do you trust?”
I swallow hard and attempt to clear my throat.
“Well, to be honest…that isn’t a question I’ve thought about all that much.”
“Okay, that’s fair enough. Talk to me about the people that are closest to you and whom you would feel comfortable confiding in if you needed.”
Geez, he’s really hitting these questions head on. First off, I haven’t really trusted anyone since my Nana died and second, since before the hospital visit, I hadn’t confided in anyone since my Nana.
“Zar I understand that this may be a difficult time for you, this is a safe place to talk. In here I want you to feel comfortable to speak your mind. It’s the best way I can learn more about you and what I may be able to help you with moving forward.”
“I know and I want to talk and explain everything to you, it’s just….”
I begin to feel a bit antsy and need to get comfortable. I cross my legs and fold my hands in my lap. Looking down in my lap I begin to pull at a string hanging from the end of my shirt.
Before I can finish my thought, Dr. Reynolds jumps in to complete my sentence.
“Hard, difficult, confusing; I can go on and on Zar. I know that this is not easy, I get it, believe me I do. I’ve been working in this field for many years and I’ve seen a lot of teens come a long way by walking through my office doors. I’m here to help you understand the source of your panic attacks and the best ways you can release your pain without the fear of future health concerns. I received a full report from the hospital and I’ll say you are one lucky girl. Together. I know we can work through your struggles and come up with a plan that will help you cope and move on. Is that something you want Zar?”
I look up at him and into his silver eyes.
Nodding my head, I gesture to him that I do want to move forward. I want to live with less fear that a panic attack will take place at any given moment.
“Good, I’m glad to see that’s what you want. So tell me, who do you feel are the closest people to you in your life, whether it be at home, school or social setting?”
Taking in a deep breath, I close my eyes for a moment. Immediately the first person that comes to mind is Loudon.
“My boyfriend, Loudon,” I reply, as I open my eyes.
“Wonderful. How long have you been dating Loudon?” He asks.
“We met about two months ago I guess.”
“Did you meet him at school?”
“Umm no, he’s actually my future sister-in-law’s younger brother. We met at a family dinner to celebrate my brother Zeke and his sister Allie’s engagement.”
“Oh, I see.” Dr. Reynolds replies.
“Wow that sounds out of the norm, I suppose. But we actually ran into one another earlier that week at a pizzeria in his home town. I had gone up to Ames after the first day of school and he just so happened to be there with some of his friends. I didn’t know who he was at the time, but ironically it was the first time we saw one another.”
“How close are you and Loudon? Is he someone you would say you trust?”
I nod my head right away.
“Yes of course. I feel completely comfortable when I’m with Loudon. It’s as if he’s my safety net, waiting to catch me when I fall. There have been a few times that I thought a panic attack was going to take over, but when I’m with him my pain and fear seem to go away.”
“I’m glad to hear that you have someone like him in your life Zar. Does he know about your attacks and what has been transpiring for the past few years?” He asks.
“Yes he does. I spoke to him at the same time I told my parents.”
“How did he take it? I mean, hearing about the problems you’ve had in the past?”
“He wants to be here for me to, help me get through my struggles. He’s been an amazing part of my life in just the short time that we’ve known each other. I feel quite connected to him and know that I have one true friend for life.”
“Perhaps a few sessions from now he could come in and join us. I’d like to meet him and if he’s willing to help you I want to make sure he’s aware of some of the coping methods we will be working with.”
“That’s fine; I’ll mention it to him.”
“Thank you, Zar,” he says with a smile.
I return his smile and feel mom’s hand come up to grab mine.
“We may have only spoken for a brief hour today, but I believe that with the support you have, you will get through this. I’d like to see you again twice next week and suggest that you start a journal to track your emotions morning, afternoon and before bed. Please bring this with you to each appointment so that we can track your progress together.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you,” I say.
“It was a pleasure meeting with the three of you today and I’ll look forward to seeing you next week.”
We all stand and follow as Dr. Reynolds leads us to the door. I walk between my parents, and before stepping through the doorway, turn to shake the doctor’s hand.
Before leaving the office I schedule two appointments for next week, one on Wednesday and the other on Friday. I don’t want to plan anything on Tuesday or Thursday in case Loudon and I have a study session.
The ride home is quiet and I don’t expect that mom and dad will push asking a lot of questions. This is all a new experience for me and I know that in time it will be easier to talk about things, just not now…not yet.
Once we get home and dad pulls the car into the garage, I hop out and head inside. With my stomach growling I start to look through the fridge for something to eat. I pull out some lunch meat, cheese and veggies.
“What are you fixing up there kiddo, I’m starving?” Dad says coming up behind me to see what’s in my arms.
“Oh.” I giggle, yes me…giggle, “I was going to make a sandwich; you want one too?” I ask setting the food on the counter.