by M. Billiter
I looked around his office and shook my head. “Nope.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Good.” I paused. “Relieved, actually.”
“How about your intrusive thoughts?”
“Um… not as frequent.”
“How often?”
“Maybe about once every week.”
“And how intense are they?”
“Same. Kind of just intense.”
“How long does it last?”
“Uh, it varies. From around a couple minutes to like an hour sometimes. It all depends.”
He wrote something on his notepad. “So how do you deal with it?”
“I usually distract myself.”
“Does that work?”
“Usually.”
“Does it?"
“I just kind of deal with it or ignore it.” That didn’t seem to please Dr. Cordova. I leaned forward on the couch. “The thing I’ve learned about schizophrenia is that it never truly goes away. There are just varying degrees of the illness. Unless you placed me in a catatonic state, the static is still there. It just isn’t as loud.”
“And how often do you experience the hallucinations?” he asked.
“Those haven’t happened ever since we got rid of Trevor.”
“Really?” His voice rose in apparent interest. Everything else was standard protocol, but when I broke from what he was expecting to hear, I actually got a reaction. I heard it in the lilt of his voice, like he was some damn cheerleader rallying against my delusions.
Poor Trevor. It’s not his fault.
I smiled. “Yeah, it’s been great.”
“Any paranoia?”
“Not that I know of.” I paused and then started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Well… okay, Doc, every time we meet, you ask about my paranoia. But really? If I was paranoid, would I really be the one to know? Would I be the best one to ask?”
He shook his head. “Branson.” He flipped another page in his notepad. “Any suicidal thinking?”
I shook my head.
“Any homicidal thoughts?”
“No.”
“So these intrusive thoughts, they're what exactly?”
“Well, I guess they would be homicidal.” I said it without any shame attached or guilt. It was part of my illness, and I was treating my illness.
“And they tell you to hurt people.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Have you ever been inclined to do it?”
I shook my head. Not since Jesse. “Uh, no. I would never act on those thoughts, no.”
“How is your attention span?”
“Uh, it’s good.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you think?” I looked at the clock. “We’ve been going for what, about twenty minutes?”
“You’re doing fine. I just mean at work and in your personal life.”
“Fine.”
“Have the intrusive thoughts ever happened again when you’re in class? I know in our last session, you mentioned you were an early admission into Wyoming State University. I bet that made your mom proud.”
I forced a smile. “Yeah, Mom didn’t know I had actually applied early or to WSU. It wasn’t part of her plan for Aaron or me.” I laughed. “The funny thing is I kind of don’t even remember applying.” I shrugged. “It worked out in my favor when the new admissions director reevaluated the list of early admission candidates and I got in, because honestly?” I shook my head. “With my grades and attendance at Wilson, I don’t think I would've gotten in anywhere else.”
“I thought you mentioned that you were already taking college classes?”
“I am. There're some college credits I can earn now, so I’m doing it. I finished my GED, so now I’m taking classes at WSU.”
“Okay, that’s right. Well, how are your intrusive thoughts when you’re in class?”
“They used to be really bad. Like when I took the ACT the second time, it started to happen. But it usually doesn’t happen in class.”
“How did you do on the ACT?”
“I got the same exact score.”
We both laughed.
“What was the score?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Twenty-six.”
“What was your GPA in high school?”
“Really? Let’s not go there. We’re having a good session.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, Branson. So why were you taking the ACT again?”
“I wanted at least one more point on my ACT to get a higher tier of my scholarship.”
“Any more tests coming up?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to take it again?”
“No,” I chuckled. “I kind of took it as a sign that I wasn’t supposed to take it again.”
We both laughed.
“Are you this happy most of the time?”
“Yeah. Usually.” I leaned back and felt my cell phone in the pocket of my jeans. It was still recording. “Yeah. I am.”
“How about your thinking? Is it always logical, or do you find it jumping around a lot?”
“It’s usually logical. I don’t find myself jumping around.”
“Still no alcohol or drugs.” He posed it more as a statement than a question.
“None.”
“Okay, just so you know, with your kind of ailment, alcohol and pot could exacerbate it.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I remember.”
He made a few notes, then glanced at the clock. “I think we may need to up the dosage on your antipsychotic medicine,” he said toward the conclusion of our session.
“Uh, how much are we talking?”
“Another twenty milligrams.”
“Uh, okay, sure.”
He must have heard the hesitancy in my voice, because he quickly explained his reasoning. “I’m trying to get you to where the intrusive thoughts aren’t bothersome.”
“Okay.”
“There are people with heavy hallucinations who are on much higher doses. You’re still on a healthy dose, and the little bump will minimize the intrusive thoughts.”
“Okeydokey.”
“Everything good with you and your family?” he asked.
“Yeah, everything’s going well.”
“All right. Any plans for spring break?”
“Thought I’d go hang out with an old friend.”
“That sounds fun.” Dr. Cordova cupped his knees with his hands when he stood. “Okay, Branson, I’ll see you again in a month.”
I stood and shook his hand. “See you then, Doc.”
I walked to the front of the office and made my next appointment, tucking the reminder card into my pocket beside my cell phone. After I climbed in my car and had driven far enough away from the doctor’s office, I pulled out my cell phone and stopped the recording.
“Thanks, Branson,” I said.
He looked at me from the passenger seat. Trevor?
“Tick tock. You just bought me another month of freedom.”
Acknowledgments
I always knew A Divided Mind would require a publisher who would read my manuscript and be as passionate about it as I was.
Olivia Ventura, my romance editor with Hot Tree Publishing, was the first reader in the industry who messaged me, “This book needs to be published,” and then together with publisher, Becky Johnson, ensured that it happened.
I fumbled my way through my first call with Becky Johnson about A Divided Mind. My work with Hot Tree Publishing was nothing short of wonderful, so when Becky told me of the new imprint, Tangled Tree, I knew the publisher I long imagined and prayed for had materialized.
Becky, thank you. Thank you for not judging me, my son, or the work. Thank you for letting me into your publishing family with open arms. You have fulfilled a promise I made to my son, and for that, I am forever grateful.
Kristin Scearce, I was fearful when I saw the many red edits and comments, only to find t
hat you understood this story, my voice, and worked hard to maintain both. Thank you. I look forward to your editing finesse with the sequel!
Jas Ward with Ink-N-Flow Management Group, you made the process of rebranding me and my work fun! Thank you for adding humor to my life and always being available to field my crazy questions. #INFTeamBilliter
I was newly remarried when I began writing this story. To my groom, Ron Gullberg, thank you for understanding that the only way I was going to work through what was happening was by writing through it. I often forget we’re married because it’s so easy with you. I love you to the moon and back. #BilliterGullberg #Always
And finally to my children…
Austin Thomas, thank you for helping to shape this work with your humor and compassion. I know this wasn’t easy for you. Thank you for opening your heart and sharing it with me.
Ciara Thomas, sometimes I wonder who parents who! Thank you for grounding me during this writing process and then nailing the tagline!
Super Cooper, you make parenting effortless. I love your giggle and funny jokes. Thank you for sharing me with your brothers and sister.
About the Author
M. Billiter is an award-winning author, cancer survivor, and college writing instructor best known for her emotional honesty. She doesn’t write about well-adjusted people, but rather the wounds in life. M. Billiter writes with clarity and raw emotion to explore difficult subjects and issues close to her heart.
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www.mbilliter.com
About the Publisher
As Hot Tree Publishing’s first imprint branch, Tangled Tree Publishing aims to bring darker, twisted, more tangled reads to its readers. Established in 2015, we have seen rousing success as a rising publishing house in the industry motivated by our enthusiasm and keen eye for talent. Driving us is our passion for the written word of all genres, but with Tangled Tree Publishing, we’re embarking on a whole new adventure with words of mystery, suspense, crime, and thrillers.
www.hottreepublishing.com
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