Work Text:
BUCK
How does he feel? He feels worried. And how does he feel about that? Worried, again.
“Um, It’s Buck, actually. I tend to go by Buck.”
“Okay,” the guy smiles easily, makes a little note in his little book. He meets Buck’s gaze again.
“I’m a firefighter,” Buck explains.
“Ah, I see.”
“So it’s. We do the nickname thing pretty heavily. Buckley, Buck.” Buck does kind of aborted little jazz hands. Gets a pleasant laugh for his troubles.
“But you go by Buck in your personal life too? Or is it just in this setting that you’d prefer…”
“No, no it’s. Everybody calls me Buck. Except for my family. My sister, sometimes. And my partner.”
“I see,” he says again, nods, smiles. Easy.
“He’s a firefighter too, actually. My partner. But he always just, I don’t know. He calls me Buck, too, sometimes but. He just always called me Evan, as well.” Buck laughs, “anyway, that’s not. I like. All of that is not an issue, so.”
“Alright, good. So, I’ll call you Buck, then.”
“Please. Yeah, thanks,” Buck nods. There is a large oil painting on the wall behind his head. Flowers. His head fits perfectly in the vase. Buck meets his eyes again. “And. I noticed you signed off your email with your full name, instead of. You know, Dr Shaikh.”
“I tend to go by James,” he shrugs, “but I’m perfectly happy for you to address me in whatever way is most comfortable.”
“James, ok, sure,” Buck says.
“Alright.” James gives him one more easy smile, and then he sets the book aside, and sets his hands clasped over his knee, and takes a measured, relaxed breath. “So, Buck, what brings you here today?”
“Right,” Buck smiles. “Well, so, I should say I’m definitely not, uh, new to therapy.”
“Okay,” James nods.
“It’s. I did some, for, I mean. Being a firefighter there’s, like, they like you to speak to someone. When there’s particularly, you know, bad or different situations or. You know, they need to check in, that you’re okay to work.”
“Of course.”
“Right,” Buck pushes his sleeves up his arms a little. “So, and then I also, just. Personally. I’ve spoken to the same therapist from, like. 2020. I guess, you maybe hear that a lot, pandemic, I guess a lot of people. Had time to start thinking about stuff.”
James tilts his head from side to side in a ’so-so’ kind of gesture, “Sure.”
“Right. So. Dr Copeland. Oh, I don’t know if I’m meant to, like, tell you her name?”
“That’s perfectly fine. You’ve been speaking with her since 2020, consistently?”
“Uh, well. No. For a while. I was seeing her, or, zooming her, I guess, weekly. And that was for, like, half a year, probably. Like loads of therapy. And then we went to fortnightly And then I stopped for a while. Um, and then, there’ve been a couple more, like, stints, I guess. Because of, stuff happening but. Yeah, since then its more, just, every now and then. I’ll reach out, and see if she has a session. But it’s probably been at least a year. Because the last time I reached out to her was, I mean, before I’d met Tommy, for sure, so. Yeah probably a year and a bit.”
James nods. “Is there a reason your sessions with her became less frequent?”
“Yeah,” Buck says. “I kind of. I worked through like. Loads of stuff. Like, you should have seen me before. There was just. My whole childhood and. I dunno, I just had all this stuff, that I realised, so. And then it seemed like. I dunno, I know they say there’s always more but. It’s like. We really got into everything. And I guess it just seemed like. I didn’t need it anymore, you know, we kind of. Got to the bottom of everything and. I’ve been just, like. Mentally healthy, you know?”
James nods. Smiles. “So what brings you here today?”
“Right. So. I guess. I think, with Dr Copeland, she kind of. Knows everything so well. I just. It felt like, I dunno. I felt like she couldn’t help me with this? I’m not really sure why. Just, the thought of going back into a session with her. I just. I felt really sure that it wasn’t going to help, for some reason? Like, I wouldn’t know what to say to her.”
“Okay,” James nods. “That makes sense. A fresh perspective can be helpful.”
“Exactly,” Buck nods back. He pushes his sleeves back down his arms and puts his hands together. “Yeah.”
James nods. “So.”
“Right. Right. So,” Buck looks at the ceiling for a moment, and tries to think if there’s any other way to say it. “I guess I’ve just been feeling. Really. Sad?” He laughs a little bit, after he says it. It just sounds so. He doesn’t know.
James’ eyebrows draw together, just the slightest, and he nods slower. “Can you tell me a bit more about that?”
“Sure, sure,” Buck scratches his palm. “So everything’s, like, really good right now.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah. My job, I really love. I love what I do, and I love the people that I do it with, and I love doing it,” he says. “It’s. A really great work environment, and we’re all really close. I think of my firehouse as being like my second family.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“It is! Yeah. So yeah. And my other family, my, you know, blood one. Things are really good there too. My sister, she’s like, my whole world and. She’s finally safe, and happy, and at peace. I have a beautiful niece. I have, my parents, things with them, are like, better than they have been probably ever. You know, not perfect but, we’ve put a lot of work in and. They’ve really. Things have gotten better there.”
“Thats good.”
“Yeah, it’s. It is good. And I’m in a, you know, the best relationship I’ve ever been in. For sure. Just, with someone who’s really kind, and who I love, and who. We’re really happy together, and committed to each other and. I’m just, you know. It’s really awesome and healthy and great.”
“That’s really wonderful.”
“Yeah. Yes. Exactly.” Buck takes a deep breath, and slumps in his chair a little. “I’ve just been getting this feeling. Um, or. I’ve been having it. You know just, having it. Of. This sadness. Like this big, um, this big, big sadness.” He swallows. “Um. And I can’t really figure it out. And I can’t really do anything about it. You know? Because. I could be. At work or. With my friends or my niece or. My best friend’s kid, Chris, who’s just. My favourite person and. I could be, you know, at home with Tommy or, out at a bar, or, just, you know, saved somebody from a burning building. And I just get this feeling and. I just have to kind of. Carry it with me. And. It’s starting to feel like.” He looks at the ceiling. He looks at Dr Shaikh’s shoes. “Like it’s never going to go away.” He swallows rocks. He swallows glass. He lets a couple tears fall down his cheeks and then he rubs them away and sniffs, and nods.
James nods back. “I see,” he says. Buck nods. “I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way,” he says, and somehow, it sounds sincere. His face is really sincere. “It sounds like it’s been a terrible burden.” Buck shrugs, nods.
They nod at each other.
“Would you tell me a bit more about the feeling?” James asks.
“Yeah. Yeah.” Buck says. “yeah.”
He doesn’t say anything for a while. James passes him a box of tissues, and Buck tries to stop crying. His face is boiling hot. It doesn’t stop for a while. He tries to take deep breaths and get control of his breathing and it gets quicker and his teeth start to chatter a bit. He sniffs. He wipes snot from his nose. He just puts his sleeve over his eyes for a while and lets it get sodden damp.
“Sorry,” he says. It comes out choked and awful. “Oh,” he doesn’t mean to say, just because it gets so big, all of a sudden, and he keeps crying.
“There is absolutely nothing to be sorry for,” James says. And so he cries for a good while, deeply. “Is this something you’ve spoken with anybody in your life about?” James asks. “Your partner, or your sister, or any of your friends?”
Buck shakes his head. “I don’t know why but. It doesn’t feel like I can.”
James nods. “Well. I hope that’s something we can try to figure out together. And regardless, I hope that, if you choose to have another session, this can be a place for you to talk about those feelings.”
The weight of an elephant shifts so slightly off Buck’s chest.
SISTER
“… and then I went with my sister, Maddie, she needed to go to Costco and I guess Chimney lost their membership card so she needed to borrow mine. I think he leant it to a friend and they hadn’t gotten it back to him, or something. So, we went, with Jee. She liked all the free samples. And we got a bunch of stuff. Tommy’s kinda pissed because now my place is like. All my cupboards are overflowing with stuff. Not really pissed, just like, he was giving me shit. But, it was funny.”
James smiles. “You said in our last session how important your sister is to you.”
“Yeah,” Buck smiles. “Yeah, she’s. That’s my family. My number one. She was. We weren’t in each others lives, really, for a while. A while ago. But, since she came back it’s. We’re really close.”
James nods. “What was the reason for that distance, before?”
Time for this. “She was in an abusive relationship. An abusive marriage. Physical abuse and, I mean. Probably every kind of abuse.”
James nods. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah it was. Fucking terrible.” Buck sighs. “But she’s awesome. She’s like, the strongest person I’ve ever met, for sure. She got out, and she. Well, it was. There was a whole. He came back. And she had to. Defend herself. She had to. She killed him,” he says, stilted by the weight of it. James just nods. “That maybe sounds insane. It was. He was going to. Kill her. So she. Yeah. That was years ago. She’s happily married now. Chim, he’s my co-worker. I love him and. They have a beautiful daughter and. Everything’s good. She’s safe.”
James nods. “You emphasised that last time, that she’s safe, now.”
“Yeah,” Buck nods. He gets a creepy feeling. “Hm. It doesn’t feel so good that I just told you it all. Like that.”
“Why’s that?” James asks.
“Um.” Buck bites the inside of his cheek. “Uh, it’s not my trauma, and it’s not my. Thing to explain. Like I can never really understand what happened. To her and how it felt and. It feels crass, or something, just saying it like that. Too simple, or. Just. It’s not my thing to work through.”
“It’s not your thing to work through,” James repeats.
“No. It was. My parents, actually, did this whole thing about. How they went to therapy, about what happened to Maddie. As if it’s something that happened to them.”
“You don’t think that’s something they should have done?”
“No. Or. I dunno,” Buck tries to read James’ face. It’s impossible to read. “I guess it’s. Good that they did, if they, had feelings they needed to figure out, or something. I dunno. I’m pretty hard on them so it’s hard to. I dunno. It just feels like. None of us should be. What we went through, because she went through it, is nothing, compared to what she went through.”
“What did you go through?” James asks. Buck feels the stubborn urge to change the topic. He sits with it. It floods up in him and then he can’t keep hold of it.
“It was scary. He was always. Scary. He wasn’t so nice to me, ever. When he and Maddie were teenagers. He would. Say shitty stuff and just. He never liked me. So. That sucked,” he shrugs.
“What kind of stuff?”
“Just. The same stuff that was. You know. Always ragging on me for asking Maddie for too much and for fucking up all the time and. I guess he figured Maddie would be better off without me.”
James frowns. “Did you believe that?”
“No,” Buck says. “Mostly. I guess, I dunno. He was. This older guy, in my life and. My Dad was. Emotionally absent so. I guess. Maddie held him in a high regard, you know like, she thought he was right about everything and. I thought Maddie was right about everything so. Maybe, it got to me, a little.”
James nods. “What about when you and Maddie stopped being in each others lives?”
“It was horrible. I knew she was with that guy and. I missed her. I was, like, eighteen and. She moved away with him and. She gave me her car. So I just. It was just me and this car and. I guess I felt like she left me and. Chose him. Like I wasn’t good enough,” he coughs. “And I figured it out but. I felt really, really alone. The whole time I was. Without her and, my parents never. I mean, they weren’t. Parents, really. So I just. I had friends. But I didn’t have family. And more than that I just, I didn’t have her. She was everything to me. She is. It was like missing a limb.” He sniffs, shakes his head. “That’s a shitty thing to say, I don’t know what it’s like to loose a limb.”
James’ mouth twitches. “It’s a common if problematic turn of phrase,” he says. “So, you felt alone.”
“Yeah. And then I felt. Worried, too. Like, I didn’t know for sure, that he was hurting her but. I knew he wasn’t good to her. And she was far away and I didn’t know how to save her because she wouldn’t tell me where she was or speak to me or tell me what was going on. And I felt like a shitty brother and I was mad at her, for leaving me.And I felt shitty for being mad at her. And then I guess I. Pushed that down and tried to live my life but I was always really worried and mad and I missed her.”
“And then she came back?”
Buck sighs. “And then she came back. And we. Got to know each other again, and. It was amazing. But I was still really worried about her, all the time. And I thought. Something terrible might happen. And then it did.”
“Her abuser found her,” James summarises.
“Yeah. And he. Hurt my friend Chimney and. Maddie was missing. And it was basically the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Like, the time that she was missing. And I knew he, had her. And I thought. She was going to die.”
“That sounds awful,” James says.
“It was really bad.”
“Have you spoken about this in therapy before?” James asks. “That time, specifically.”
“A little. But. Like I said, it’s really not about me.”
James nods. He tilts his head a little. “You said it was the worst thing that ever happened to you.”
Buck nods. “Yeah. Yeah. I guess so.”
“What were you feeling, at that time?”
“I was terrified. She’s the only constant in my life. She’s my family. I. It would have been my fault. That he got her. She came to me to be safe, and he got her. And I was so angry. That he just. She’s this. Amazing person. And he just. Snuffed her out. For so long and. Hurt her. When I think about him hurting her I feel. So angry. This useless anger. And I. It’s the worst feeling. And I did nothing. The whole time. And then he got her and she was going to just die. After all this time and all the. Everything she’d done and all the ways she’d grown and all the people she helped and after she. Made me and loved me and took care of me. And she could have had this whole amazing life, I kept just thinking, about all the amazing things she could be and I thought. Instead she was going to die, afraid and with him and not knowing how amazing she is and how. I just love her. I love her so much. And I need her. And I was. No other fear compares. To when I thought she was gone.”
“You thought she was gone?”
Buck wipes the tears before they can fall down his cheeks. “I thought. As soon as I found Chimney. I thought. She’s probably dead. He’s probably killed her. And I pushed it away because I needed to do everything I could to find her but. I thought. It was so, so awful. It was awful.”
James hands him the box of tissues. Buck keeps crying. Keeps crying. He wipes at his face with the tissues.
“I’m so sorry,” James says. “It sounds like it was just terrible.”
Buck sniffs. “It was.” He sniffs again.
“You said, a few times, that now, she’s safe.”
Buck lets out a long breath. “Yeah. It’s such a relief.”
“It sounds like a relief,” he nods. He leans forward in his chair. “Do you think, those thoughts feelings, from that terrible time, do you find that they crop up in your life now, ever?”
Buck twists his mouth to the side. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah.”
“When?”
“Not all the time,” Buck says. “But. A lot. I see her and. Every time I’m just. So relieved. I can’t. I don’t know why but. I’m always checking. How she’s walking and, her mood and, how she’s done her makeup. I just. I need to know, that she’s not hurt, that she’s ok. The thought of her. Sometimes. When we’re having beautiful moments. And it doesn’t ruin them but. It passes through. We could be drinking wine and laughing and. Or walking by the beach or. At dinner, with her beautiful family and. I just look at her and. It just rushes through, really quick. The worry and the anger and the grief and everything it. Rushes through me and. I just. She just has to be okay. I just need her.”
“What helps?” James asks. “You said, those feelings don’t ruin anything, that they pass through. Why is that?”
“Because I see her,” Buck says. “Because she’s right in front of me. Or, she’s right there in my life, even if she’s not in front of me. So I know she’s okay. So I don’t have to worry about her, or miss her, because I can see her. Just, the fact of her. And it just makes me feel like. We’re all gonna be okay. Because she is.”
James smiles. Buck smiles back.
“I want to thank you for opening up about that Buck, despite your hesitance to speak on your sisters trauma.”
Buck sniffs. “Well. I guess I had a lot to say about it.”
James smiles again. “Well, I hope it serves you.”
SEX
“I used to sleep around a lot. I had a lot of casual sex. With strangers.”
James’ face doesn’t twitch. He just nods his head.
“I liked to just have one encounter with a woman and then I’d never talk to her or see her or anything again.”
“But not anymore?”
“No. I’m in a long term relationship now. And before that I had. I would see people, you know, date and have girlfriends. I wouldn’t just. I stopped sleeping around like that.”
“Why did you stop?” James asks.
“I realised it didn’t feel good. And it also. I was unkind about it, sometimes. It wasn’t always a kind way to view people. Women.”
“Why was it unkind?”
“Because I. I don’t know if they always knew, that I was just going to sleep with them once and then never see them again. And even if they did, I think it was. I wasn’t being. I was treating them like. I don’t know. I think I was using them.”
“Using them?”
“Yeah. I was needing. Connection. And to feel wanted and liked and loved and desirable and useful and good and to be cared for and held and looked at.”
James nods. “And how do you feel about it now?”
“I feel proud of myself for not doing that anymore.”
“Because you feel it was wrong. Or, unkind, you said.”
“Yes. And. For me, too. I think it wasn’t always so good for me. After I would. Not always feel good.”
“Why’s that?” James asks.
Buck sucks his teeth. “Hm.” He rubs his hand along his jaw. James’ face remains unchanged. That same curious draw to his eyebrows. His patient posture. Like they have all the time in the world. “Because I think it was a temporary fix to a bigger feeling that I had of wanting all that stuff. The, love, stuff.” He bites his thumbnail. James nods. “Uh. And.” Buck tilts his head from side to side. “Because I didn’t always actually. Want. Hm. Because I wanted all those other things and I think that was more important, in the moment, than if I actually wanted to have sex. To me, you know, it was more important to get the good feelings and be desired than it was to. Actually think if I wanted to have sex with this person. And then after. The good feelings went away I was left with. Some bad feelings.”
James nods again. He leans back a bit in his chair. “What kinds of feelings?”
“Regret,” Buck says. “And shame.” He looks at the carpet. “And I didn’t like. Myself.” He meets James’ gaze again. “Not always. And not in a big way. Not even most of the time. It was a lot of fun, most of the time. And I was ok. Just sometimes.” He shrugs. “I used to think I was a sex addict.”
“You don’t think so anymore?” James asks.
“No I just. I was just a. You know.” Buck pauses. James tilts his head. “I was just a fuckboy or a slut or whatever.”
James frowns. “Do you still think of yourself that way?”
“No I said, I don’t do that anymore.” Buck says.
“So you aren’t those things anymore, because you stopped having casual sex?”
“Yeah.”
“So there’s a moral weight, to having sex?”
“No,” Buck says quickly. “I’m not a puritan. I don’t think all casual sex is bad.”
“When is it not bad?”
“When everyone’s having fun, and knows what it is, and wants it. And nobody gets hurt.”
“And that’s not what you were doing?”
Buck shrugs. “No. Well. I mean. I think that’s mostly what I was doing, I guess.”
“But it was wrong? For you to do it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because. It was gross.” Buck says. “I was gross. I was. It just was.”
“You were gross?”
“Yes.”
“And are you still gross now?”
“Yes.” Buck says. And then he scratches his palm. “Or I. I mostly don’t think so. But sometimes. When I think about it. I feel pretty disgusted. With myself. And guilty and. Ashamed and. Gross.”
James leans forward a little bit. “Do you think that’s deserved?” He asks. “Do you think anyone who’s had casual sex should feel disgusting, that they’re unkind and a slut and gross?”
“No.” Buck says. He pulls his arms a little closer to himself. “No I guess it’s only. I only feel that way about me.” He shrugs. “I guess that doesn’t really make sense.”
James tilts his head. “It strikes me as unfair, to yourself.”
“Yeah,” Buck agrees.
James nods.
“Sometimes I’m scared that Tommy will. I don’t know. He knows I used to sleep around a lot. But I’m scared it’s. I don’t know. That he could change his mind about it being ok. That he could think it’s gross.” Buck admits. “Even though he’s never made any kind of. He’s never made me feel that way. And he’s like. He doesn’t judge people like that. Or think about sex that way because. He’s not like. He just doesn’t think about it like that.”
“Like how you think about it?”
“I guess.” Buck looks at his shoes. He shakes his head. “That’s nuts. That’s like. That’s actually misogynistic, isn’t it? The whole idea of sex making you. Unclean, or whatever.”
James shrugs. “It seems like an idea you’re only applying to yourself.”
“Right.” Buck scratches his chin. James is quiet for a bit. Buck doesn’t think of anything to say.
“Maybe you could try and tell me about that period of your life like you were talking about a friend,” James prompts.
“Um. I don’t. Like, tell you it like a story?”
“Sure. It might feel a little silly, but try to push through that. Tell me like you’re just explaining to me what happened. But how you’d frame that if you were telling me about a friend. Not yourself.”
“Um. Yeah, I can, try that I guess.”
James waits.
“Ok so. My friend. He used to have a lot of casual sex. With different women. And then he. He realised it wasn’t so good for him. And he felt bad, like he could be hurting people, sometimes. So he started to date more seriously. And he had a few girlfriends and. Now he’s in a long term relationship. With a guy.” Buck shrugs.
“And he’s happy now? In his relationship?” James asks.
“Yep. Yes. Really happy. In the relationship.”
James nods. “You don’t think he’s gross? Your friend?”
Bucks stomach twists. “No.” He shakes his head. “No he’s not gross.”
He doesn’t burst into tears, but the tears come, and they fall too quickly for him to wipe them away, and keep falling too rapidly to try to stop crying. He pulls the neck of his hoodie over his face and wipes his cheeks. He pulls the hoodie away.
James gives him a small smile. Buck laughs.
“That’s. That was a good one.” Buck says. James laughs too.
They’re quiet for a bit, while Buck collects himself. He feels a bit sick. He wants a shower. He’s sweating, he realises. He can feel it in the hot wet of his fingers and the feeling on his face.
“I never really thought about it like that.” Buck shrugs. “I dunno, I thought I’d kind of resolved that. Stuff.” He sniffs. “I guess just because I had stopped. But maybe it’s. I mean obviously it’s. Got something to do with my. Opinion of myself or whatever.”
“Yes, I think it’s something worth exploring more,” James says.
SOMETHING
“I think. Uh. I think that ever since I was a little kid, I had this feeling that. I wanted to be. Something. Not, like. Like, I’d think, that I wanted to be a superhero. Or, I wanted to be an astronaut. I wanted to be a quarterback and I wanted to be in action movies or I wanted to be a big shot Wall Street guy. Or, then, not that at all; I wanted to be a skateboarder or in a motorbike gang. Whatever the next thing. But that’s wasn’t, really, it, like… it was like. There was this thing that, most of my friends seemed to have? Where they just. It was just. Something. They were really. Like they just were important, or something. Without even trying. And I always felt like I was trying really hard. Or, like, Pretending? And I just wanted so badly to be. I don’t know. I guess… I mean, obviously, that’s cause of my parents and, like, yada yada. Like, I just wanted to be ‘loved’ I guess but that doesn’t even. I mean that’s it but it feels like it’s not it. Like it’s weirder than that like. More complicated than that. It’s like, I felt really. I felt really real when Maddie looked at me, you know? And when she listened to me and took care of me. And when I left home, when I started being a bunch of different things and. All these people were meeting me and I was like, someone. But it still didn’t- it still felt like I was trying really hard. This is probably not so special or anything. Like, I’m sure everybody feels like this a little bit but. When I became a firefighter, that was something. And it became more something the more that I realised it was really what I was going to do, you know, like, not just another passing thing. And when I got close with my coworkers, you know my, my real good friends, you know and. When I became important to them. When I met Christopher, especially. Like I was really… uh. Like it mattered what happens to me. Like I have this kind of. Inherent worth or. Whatever. And I liked it in relationships, you know, the little bits of that. And with Tommy, I mean, obviously, that’s. You know. I’m- we’re partners. I’m his partner. That’s something. And all together, all of that, I’m. I am something, you know? I’m so much more of a something than I ever thought I could be, when I was a kid, when I was a teenager. Um. But I still. I get this feeling, still, like. I’m. I dunno. And like I’m, I’m just trying, still. Like I’m always working for it. And I never, quite. Well, no, sometimes I do. Sometimes it doesn’t even cross my mind but then. It comes back. Sometimes. That feeling. From when I was a kid.”
James eyebrows remain drawn. He leans forward slightly.
“How does that feel in your body? When you get that feeling?”
Buck takes a breath. He looks at the cracking white paint on the window sill. At the plain, scentless, unlit candle resting there. “I. It feels like. Heavy in my chest. Like, sad,” he tries. “Or.” He looks back at James. The same calm, thoughtful, sympathetic expression on his face. Buck closes his eyes and draws the feeling, presses the bruise. “I feel scared,” he says. “Not like a panic. More like, a horror. Like, a kind of doomed feeling. My fingers and my. My throat.” He opens his eyes again. “My stomach.”
“What are you scared of?” James asks.
“That everyone’s going to realise,” Buck says, quickly, knowing it as he says it, knowing that he’s known it. “That it’s going to turn out to be true.”
“What’s true?” James asks.
“That I’m not. That I’m not. Something.” Buck shrugs, bites his fingernail, and feels the hot tears flood his eyes, fall down his cheeks, so quickly.
“Not something,” James repeats.
“Nothing,” Buck says. “That I’m a nothing. Not something than can be loved or good or useful or even just. Anything. Just. Nothing.”
James nods his head and passes Buck the box of tissues. Buck keeps not saying anything, and scrunches his eyes closed, and lets floods of tears come out of his face for a long time, and blows his nose over and over and tries to get his breath back.
“Remember when we talked about core beliefs?” James asks when Buck finally levels out. Buck nods his head and laughs and wipes at his cheeks with the sleeves of his hoodie.
“Yeah. Yeah,” he sniffs. He looks at the candle again, on the window. Up and out the window. He feels so strange, like he’s buzzing. He tells James this. James suggests that they stand up and pat their bodies. They stand on one leg, and then the other. They wrap their arms around themselves and do breathing. Eventually they sit down again and Buck feels less like he’s going to disappear.
“Buck, can you think of anything that challenges that core belief? That idea that you’re nothing?” James asks.
Buck sniffs. “All the people that love me,” he starts, easy. “The things I do. The people I help.” James nods, smiles.
Buck pulls at a loose thread at the cuff of his sleeve. He pulls the string out and wraps it around his finger.
“I’m funny,” Buck says, meeting James’ eyes. He tells him with a sureness he didn’t know he had. “Even when no one else laughs that hard at something I’m. I make myself laugh. I’m funny.”
“That’s a good one,” James encourages.
“I’m smart,” Buck says. “I know a lot of interesting things and I’m. That’s, I’m good at being interested.” He gets this weird memory, this time when he was walking through the city by himself, and he watched the orange glow of sunlight reflecting off the windows at the tops of buildings. And he felt really whole. Or, like it didn’t even matter. “I mean it’s just not true. It’s completely untrue. I’m not nothing. I’m inherently something,” he argues. His stomach twists. “It just doesn’t feel like that. It feels like. That’s not true.”
James nods. Buck pulls the string until it snaps. He’s quiet for a while.
“What we can do with a core belief like that, one that we know isn’t logically true, one which is damaging, is we can challenge it. We can note the things in life and in ourself which challenge it. We can identify it when it crops up in our thinking. When you feel that sense of dread or doom as you described it, when you feel angry with yourself or unworthy or sad, you can try to catch those times when those feelings are stemming from that core belief. And you can try to challenge it.”
Buck nods. That seems simple enough. It’s one of those things that sounds easy and is very hard, he knows. Maybe impossible. Still. He feels a bit like he dug into his chest and weeded something out. It feels like an important thing to have weeded. He realises he’s never quite said all of this out loud before. He feels a bit like a raw nerve again.
“Ok,” Buck says. “Yeah. Ok.”
“We have about five minuets left, Buck, is there anything else you’d like to touch on just now?”
Buck balls up the string between his thumb and his ring finger. He pushes it under his nail.
“No I don’t think so,” he says. James nods. They’re quiet for another minute. “Can we do the patting again?” Buck asks.
“Yes,” James says, “good idea.”
They stand up again. They pat themselves.
A WEIRD KIND OF THOUGHT
“I had a weird, kind of, thought,” Buck says.
The sun is filtering through the half closed blinds, today. It’s kind of nice. The top of James’ head is sliced through with rectangular shadows, and the flowers on the painting behind him, where it looks like they’re coming out of his head.
“Tell me about it,” James offers.
Buck sucks a deep breath in. His mouth is dry. He laughs.
“I think I’ve never. Told anyone, really,” he says. “Or, I did, but. It wasn’t. I didn’t, since then.”
“Something that happened?” James asks.
Buck rolls his eyes at himself. “Something that happened. I don’t know. Maybe you can tell me.”
“I can tell you?”
“If it was. Something. I dunno.” He shrugs. “It’s. I didn’t think it was, because. Things were always fine, with my last therapist. And I didn’t feel. Worried. Mostly.”
James leans forward. “Your therapist?”
“Yeah. We only spoke on Zoom. Over the phone.” Buck says. “And, I dunno, I mostly knew it wasn’t gonna be weird.”
“Weird how?” James asks.
“Like. So.” Buck realises there’s really no talking around it. “Like, the first therapist. Before Doctor Copeland. The first therapist I ever saw, really. Years ago. Before I, had started, you know. I didn’t even want to go but. My Captain told me. I was shaken up, about a call, about someone who died. And he said, you know.”
“He suggested therapy?”
“He made the appointment,” Buck says. He bites his bottom lip between his teeth. He swallows. “And I went and I. Was talking to her and. She recognised me. From the news. And she had tried to add me. On social media before and.” He swallows. “Then. We had sex.”
The words feel very strange and heavy in his mouth. He can see them, sitting in the room, in bold letters. Full stop.
James’ expression briefly wavers, uncontrolled, Buck thinks, for the first time in all their sessions, into a look of profound disappointment.
“I’m very sorry that happened, Buck,” he says. He leans back. He closes his eyes, and moves his face into something a little more neutral and then opens his eyes again. Buck lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
“That’s bad, right? She shouldn’t have… we shouldn’t have.” Buck says, and he brings his hand up to scratch his jaw and feels it shaking.
James shakes his head. “It shouldn’t have happened.” It’s the most James has ever really injected his own solid opinion, rather than drawing answers out of Buck. He says it plainly. “And you are not at fault there. She shouldn’t have done that.” He says it so simply, like it’s absolutely true. Buck nods.
“Right. That’s, I thought maybe. She shouldn’t have.” Buck keeps nodding. He swallows again. His mouth is dry. “And I don’t think I really wanted that, to happen.”
James nods. His eyebrows are drawn in that way. Buck shrugs. His mouth is so dry and he swallows again. His eyes, his throat, all hot. He swallows that too, and bites the inside of his cheek for a while.
“I think that’s why I. Even though my last therapist, Dr Copeland, we figured out a lot of stuff and. It was so helpful but. I think I could never really. Relax? Like. I always had this weird feeling. Worried. And I think I thought, like, everyone probably feels like that. About therapy, you know, when you first start it but. Then it never really went away.”
James keeps listening.
“And that’s maybe why. I dunno, I’d never really, really thought about it too hard. But, it came into my mind. When I was. After the last session we had and. The relief I feel, when I leave, like. I just feel. Not worried anymore. Not that I think you’re, you know, dangerous or. Dr Copeland, I didn’t think she was, either. I just. I guess I realised maybe that’s why I’m. Scared, sometimes, of this. Space.” He shrugs.
“I think that’s an astute insight, Buck. I think that makes a lot of sense,” James says. He pauses for a moment. “Do you want to talk any more about that time, with your first therapist?”
Buck surprises himself by wanting to. Wanting to dig it out. Excavate. “She got on top of me,” he says. “She. It happened very quickly. I think I just. It’s automatic. And especially at that time. I never really said no, to women who I was attracted to. And she was beautiful. And I didn’t really. Think about it and then we were. Having sex and then my mind kind of turned off, just, the way I sometimes did, back then, with sex, I’d just kind of. Get really lost in it. Like it was just physical. And then it was over. And she got off of me and then she told me I should go. So, I left. And I never saw her again and I didn’t tell anybody really what happened and that was it.”
“That was it. You didn’t think about it again?”
“No, I did. I felt. Really bad. Remember, I was telling you, about when I was having a lot of casual sex? That bad feeling, after, if I thought. I wasn’t sure why I’d done it. And I didn’t know what had happened. Or, if I really wanted to do that? And I still felt really messed up about that call, about that poor guy, who. He let go, of the roller coaster. And he died. And I felt like it was my fault. And my captain had just temporarily fired me, for having sex at work, basically. And then I’d. I’d just. I was just like. So, so disgusted with myself. I felt really disgusting, after that, for kind of. A while.”
James nods, like this is all perfectly understandable.
“And then I guess I’ve thought about it a little bit every time I’ve come to therapy. And I think I think about it sometimes after I’ve had sex or before or during sometimes. Like it just flashes into my mind and I kind of freak myself out and I have to check that I. Want to be having sex. She had long, silky brown hair. It was curly or. Wavy and it was in my face, on my cheeks and my shoulders. The whole time. Coconut shampoo. I dunno.”
He starts to cry. It feels very typical. That makes it kind of comfortable. He knows that James doesn’t care if he just sits here and cries so he does.
“Buck I want to say again just how sorry I am that this happened to you. And I want to commend you for giving therapy another try. And for trying again after that,” James says, very seriously and earnestly. “I think the work we’ve been doing together has been really insightful and, I hope, helpful to you. And I have to commend you for coming here and doing this work with me despite that past experience.”
His genuine face. Buck sniffles. He feels a little proud of himself. It’s a really nice thing for James to say.
“Thanks, Doc,” he says. James laughs a bit.
“You said you never really told anyone?” James asks. Buck shakes his head. “Tommy doesn’t know.”
Buck bites his lip. “No,” Buck says. “But I think he knows that I have. Something. About sex. He’s always, checking and. We’ve stopped, before. Because he’s asked, you know, and. Sometimes I’ll say. No. You know? Like I don’t want to keep going. And so we’ll stop and he never complains and he never pushes.” Buck scratches at his jaw. “I dunno why I do that. I sometimes just. I have to remember I can stop it and. I know he will and. It feels, sometimes I get that, gross feeling or I feel. Worried or, something. So I want to stop and I just tell him and we stop.”
James nodds. “I’m glad that’s something you’re able to communicate and navigate with Tommy. That you know you’re in control, that you can stop if you want.”
Buck laughs. Some more tears roll down his cheeks. “Me too. I’m really. I’m so glad. I’m. I love that about him. And I know it should be normal but. It hasn’t always. I haven’t always felt that. That I never have to do anything I don’t want and. I can stop whenever I want and. It’s something I decide.” He nods.
“Is it something you’d consider talking about with Tommy? The experience with your first therapist, I mean?” James asks. “Just because of that healthy communication you’ve told me about. Could it further that understanding and healthy dialogue between the two of you?”
Buck sniffs. “Maybe. Yeah. Maybe. I think so.”
COMMUTE
The commute home from James’ office is pretty easy and pleasant. He just has to walk around the corner and down a little street to the car park. And then it’s a short ride home. After the first couple of sessions he had almost been sick, for some reason, and thought he had to really figure out what was going on with himself. His brain and body which had become foreign and unknowable. How does he feel now? Different. Similarly nauseous. Not like the first times. Different somehow. Times since he hasn’t felt sick, just, relieved, or something. He goes down the grey staircase with white walls with a blue line along. He runs his finger along the bannister that could use dusting. His brain rattles around, like usual, replaying everything they talked about. He gets to the ground floor and opens up the door and has his usual thought about anyone who can see him now seeing him leaving a therapy office. And decides, like usual, that he doesn’t care. There’s the tree, the nice one, and the smaller, less nice one. He walks past the dentist’s office. The sun is setting. Another bout of tears starts welling up. That usually happens, after any session where he cries. The emotion bubbles up again. He lets the tears fall. Liberated, or something. He figures the street from the therapy office to the car park is a place you’re allowed to cry in public. If you’re gonna cry anywhere. The dentist and the dentists receptionists must see it all the time, out their little window. The therapised crying down the street, trying to sort themselves back together before they get into their cars and drive away and try to live their lives, knowing all that stuff now, trying to make that, that knowing of all that stuff, make life better, or easier, or somehow more liveable.