Her

  Dr. Pelchat replied, “That’s what we need to do. We need you to open up more and talk about it.”

  I nodded at him. Still nervous and feeling strange, I said, “It hurts, but I’m going to try.”

  “Good. So, Kristen, did you get a chance to look at the book I loaned you?”

  I thought back to the day he’d told me about Borderline Personality Disorder. I was too afraid. I did want to know about it. But…

  “No,” I admitted, “not yet.”

  “I recommend that you do. When you have time to yourself, you should read it.”

  “I haven’t even taken the test yet,” I argued. My heart began to beat fast. “How do we even know if this is my diagnosis?” I tried to smile so that I wouldn’t seem too scared.

  Dr. Pelchat sighed. He shook his head. “We don’t know for sure. Not yet. But I have seen a lot of warning signs for disorders dealing with psychosis. You, Kristen, have major signs of Borderline Personality Disorder.”

  “What exactly am I doing?”

  Almost yelling, I was giving away how scared I was. I couldn’t have this disorder. Not if I was supposed to be a good example for Nicky and Alison.

  “Read the book, Kristen. Please.” He was sincere, and his eyes were very gentle.

  I nodded, and promised to read the book. I had to read the book because I wanted to know what it was that I was doing that made me such an obvious candidate for this Borderline Personality Disorder. I needed to know so that I could fix it and not cause any more problems for my family.

  “How are you sleeping at night?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I get to sleep, and I wake up sometimes. I guess it’s okay.”

  “Do you feel different since we stopped the medication?”

  “I feel...” I didn’t know how to answer these questions. Everything was mixed up, and I felt confused. I should have known how I was sleeping. I should have known if I felt different without the medicine. I just shook my head. I started to feel hopeless.

  Dr. Pelchat looked up from my chart towards me. He stopped writing and put my chart on top of his desk.

  “I know how hard this is for you,” he said. “You know, I had a pretty weird day yesterday. After your mother left, I went into the lunchroom to grab a bite to eat with Geoffrey. Well, he told me something that just completely blew my mind.”

  “What did he say?” I asked.

  “He said that he wanted to be a doctor, just like me. He wanted to go to medical school and really go all the way. He told me that he admired me, and that he looked up to me, like I was his father or something.”

  Dr. Pelchat seemed amused and relaxed. He was smiling and happy.

  I felt calm, and I smiled back at him. “He really does look up to you, Dr. Pelchat. He told me that one day when we were talking.”

  “Really?” He seemed surprised. “I wouldn’t have known it if he hadn’t said it.”

  I looked around and realized the sudden change of mood. The sun was shining through the blinds that hung over the wide, glass windows. The room was warm, and the tension lifted.

  “I like this,” I admitted.

  “What?” Dr. Pelchat asked.

  “I like us having a conversation, instead of you asking me a million questions. It feels normal,” I said.

  “What’s normal?” Dr. Pelchat asked.

  I thought about that question before answering. I couldn’t come up with a single response that made sense.

  “I don’t know,” I said with a giggle.

  “Exactly. That’s why I don’t like normal,” Dr. Pelchat responded. “There’s no explanation for it.”

  I laughed. “Well, that’s obvious, Dr. Pelchat. Look at where you work.”

  He looked around as though shocked. And he put his hand to his chest, like I had offended him.

  “What do you mean, Kristen? There is absolutely nothing wrong with anyone here. We are all normal in here. ”

  We both laughed. I hadn’t laughed that hard in a while. When that moment between us had passed, Dr. Pelchat kept a calming smile on his face.

  “Let’s try something, Kristen. Let’s try to have a ‘normal’ conversation.”

  “What’s a normal conversation?”

  “We will talk to each other. I ask a question, and you answer, and then you’ll ask me a question, and I’ll answer. We will just talk. What do you think?”

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. It seemed different from my other sessions with him and from ones I’d had with Dr. Cuvo. I nodded at him.

  “Why do you do what you do?” I asked first.

  “Do you mean, why am I a psychiatrist?”

  “Yes.”

  “For the money,” he said.

  Shocked, and in partial disbelief, I laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” He looked so serious.

  “Aren’t you supposed to say something like you had always wanted to help people since you were a child, or since you went through this when you were younger, you wanted to help people who are going through this, too? It just doesn’t seem...”

  “It doesn’t seem like a ‘normal’ thing for a doctor to say, does it?” Dr. Pelchat asked.

  “No,” I said. “It doesn’t.”

  His smile appeared again. “I do want to help. That’s why I’m here,” he laughed.

  “But the money isn’t bad, either.”

  We laughed together.

  “Where are you from?” Dr. Pelchat asked.

  “I was born in California,” I told him. I suddenly started to miss California and our little apartment. I started to miss microwave-cooked hot dogs and cold cuts sandwiches.

  “How did you get here?”

  “My mom decided to get married, and Jack moved us here. Now we’re stuck in Atlanta.” Realizing that he had asked me two questions, and afraid that he was going to ask me more questions that would lead to something, I caught him before he could ask another question. “Where are you from?”

  “I’m from here,” he said. “I was born and raised here. I went to college in New York, and I worked at Bellevue for about ten years. Then I moved back here some years ago.”

  “Why did you come back?” I asked.

  “I came back to take care of my mother,” he told me. “I started working here at Bent Creek under Dr. Bent, who I’ve known since we were teenagers. She took a chance on a young kid like me.” He laughed at himself. “I can appreciate being here so much more than when I was working in New York. I’m home. I am passionate about our work here. Besides, I used to work with Alzheimer’s patients. Trust me, you kids are so much easier.”

  He made a face that was supposed to be funny.

  I wanted to laugh, but it made me uncomfortable. Was it okay to laugh about that?

  His large hands moved across the desk, making me nervous. “Your mother said that you will be graduating high school soon.”

  “Right,” I said with a sigh.

  “Do you have any plans for what you would like to do after graduation?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I like to write. I don’t know. I’m not that good. I just write what I feel. I am passionate about writing. It’s the only thing I can’t stop doing, no matter how bad I am at it.”

  “Then don’t stop,” he said.

  I saw in his eyes that he really meant it. Perhaps he was feeling something at that moment. Maybe it was for Rocky. I didn’t know what to say next. Talking about the future made me feel sick inside. What could I ever do? What was I useful for? Dr. Pelchat was a good doctor. I’d just talked to him, we had a normal conversation, and he hadn’t even yelled or been frustrated. Not once.

  Dr. Pelchat reached for my chart and grabbed a pen.

  “My father,” I said. “He’s still in California.”

  Dr. Pelchat looked up from my chart. “Does he know that you are here?”

  “No,” I said. “Not unless my mother told him.”

  “What do you think he’d do if he knew t
hat you were in the hospital?”

  “That’s two questions in a row, Dr. Pelchat. I thought we were having a conversation.” I called him out on it that time.

  Dr. Pelchat began writing again. Without looking at me, he said, “This is a conversation, Kristen. This is not a question game. We are adults.”

  I didn’t reply. I was turning eighteen in less than a month. Was I an adult? Was I ready to be an adult? I didn’t know if I was, or even if I wanted to be an adult. Mom certainly wanted me to grow up. I had to grow up soon. I knew that. I looked away from Dr. Pelchat. He was probably already writing something that would set me back from getting out of Bent Creek. The sad and pathetic feeling crept back inside of me.

  “I’m nervous about the test,” I admitted to Dr. Pelchat. “What if I...what if I have Borderline Personality Disorder?”

  I looked down at my bandaged wrists and wished I hadn’t admitted that I was afraid.

  “There is no need to be nervous,” Dr. Pelchat assured me. “All you have to do is be honest. The results depend on how open and honest you are about things that are going on with you. That’s all. There are no tricks in this test. The test is not designed to make you look good or bad. It’s just a test to help us to know how we can help you. That’s the only way you’re going to get the help you need and get better.”

  I wished it were that easy.

  CHAPTER 36

  Daniel sat with our group at the lunch table, silent but with a smile on his face. He was being very mysterious, the way he was smiling and staring off into space. I could only assume that his family session had gone well that day. He didn’t volunteer any information.

  Tai spoke up. “What’s with you?”

  Daniel shrugged. “Where’s Janine?” he asked, to change the subject.

  Janine wasn’t at lunch with us. In fact, after breakfast and our morning Group, no one had seen her.

  “Maybe she’s asleep in the bedroom,” I said.

  “Maybe,” Daniel agreed.

  He seemed worried about her. His smile disappeared. Daniel took a bite of his food. When he chewed, his cheeks squinched, and he looked like a chipmunk. I couldn’t help but smile at him. When he looked up at me and saw me smiling at him, I wanted to turn away, but I couldn’t. He returned a smile. It was the best smile he had ever given me.

  Suddenly, I began to see John’s face. His smiles were kind. When we’d flown the kite together - the day we’d almost kissed - all of us had been nothing but smiles.

  Then I started to remember his face when he’d told his father that he didn’t want to come to our house anymore. After his uncle Jack was arrested, he hadn’t felt right coming over to help us move into our new place. I had heard them talking outside while we had been moving our furniture out of the house. He hadn’t smiled at me that day. When I’d gone to him to say hello, his eyes had been so confusing, and his tone cold. He hadn’t looked me in the eyes when he’d spoken to me.

  John’s father had let him leave because John couldn’t stand being there at the house. He’d said that he was disgusted. He’d never clarified exactly what it was that had disgusted him. Had it been my family? The situation? The house? Had it been Jack? Nick? Mom? Me? There was no doubt in my mind that things had changed between John and me. It hurt to think that he didn’t look at my family and me the same anymore. I just wanted everything to be okay again.

  “I think that everything is going to be okay,” Daniel said to our group.

  Our group was doing dialectical behavior therapy. Dr. Bent called it DBT Skills Group.

  Dr. Bent smiled and nodded in approval. “What about your father?” she asked him.

  Daniel continued to smile. He said, “Finally, he’s moving away. My mother got their divorce settled.”

  I saw the happiness in his eyes. Dr. Bent put her hands together, as if she were praying. She smiled and said, “Good for you. Good for you and your mother.”

  “It is what’s best for the both of us,” he said. “Things are going to be better. She has a job now, and my father won’t be there, making life harder for us. I told Mom that I will do my part, too. I’m going to finish school and get a job to help her. She is doing what she has to do to take care of us, so I have to do what I’m supposed to. All we can do is try.”

  “Good,” Dr. Bent said. “That is very good, Daniel. Without trying, you would not have gotten this far. You have come a long way. Remember to use your DBT Skills modules and Coping Skills methods every day when you are out of here to stay on track. Do you remember what the DBT Skills modules include?”

  Daniel answered, “Mindfulness, distress tolerance, emotion regulation, and interpersonal effectiveness.”

  “That’s right,” Dr. Bent commended Daniel. “Mindfulness is designed to teach you how to focus your mind and attention on everyday matters. Distress tolerance focuses on accepting your situations. It helps you find ways to survive and tolerate those stressful moments that arise, without involving yourself in difficult behaviors such as getting overly angry and acting out on it. Emotion regulation skills help you learn to identify and label your current emotions, identify your challenges to changing emotions, reduce emotional reactivity, and increase positive emotions. Of course, using your interpersonal effectiveness skills teaches you effective strategies when asking for what you need, and it helps you to cope with interpersonal conflict.”

  “I feel like I’ve done most of that,” Daniel admitted. “It’s going to be more challenging to put those skills into action when I’m at home. Now that I know what I have to do, it’s going to be different to see the changes. It is easier in here with you all beside me.”

  “You’re moving forward, Daniel,” Dr. Bent assured him. “That’s just how it is when you make great changes.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Daniel said.

  “Good, Daniel. You’ve worked so hard, and have come such a long way. Do your best. You owe it to yourself, and you deserve it,” Dr. Bent said with an encouraging smile. She seemed to be very impressed with Daniel. I knew that I was impressed with him.

  Daniel was real. He was better, and it seemed like he would be getting out of here soon. I wanted to feel real. I wanted to be better. For Daniel, it had been three weeks of working it out in therapy at Bent Creek, and some work from his mother. She’d had to make a move that was best for the both of them so that things could get better. For me, it frightened me to think of what it would take, and how long, for me to get better.

  Daniel’s mother worked with him in therapy, and she must have listened to what Dr. Finch had told her to do to make things better for her and Daniel. That’s why it was getting better for them. That’s why Daniel was better. She was his mother, and she took care of him.

  My mother wanted me to do this for her, Nick, and Alison. I was the one with the problem, and I had to fix it. It was all on me. I was the one with Borderline Personality Disorder. How could I fix it on my own?

  “Why are you here?” I asked Daniel. We were alone after dinner, sitting across from each other on the main unit.

  The main unit was calm. The only sounds I heard were from the television. Prime time dramas were on, and Tai was into the detective mysteries. She and a few others were watching a modernized Sherlock Holmes drama. Janine and Mena were out of sight. Everyone was in their own place and doing their own thing. Daniel and I were the only ones at the table together.

  I wanted to take advantage of the privacy that Daniel and I had by talking to him and getting to know him better. I looked into Daniel’s eyes. I wasn’t afraid to talk to him anymore.

  “Did you try to kill yourself?” I asked.

  He was sketching on a notepad. He didn’t pay me attention until I reached across the table and gently touched his arm. Daniel put his pencil down and stared at his sketch. The way his eyes suddenly shot up at me was intimidating and attractive.

  He took a deep breath and said, “Are you sure you want to have this conversation?”

  “I only aske
d a question,” I said. “You don’t have to -”

  “No,” he said, “I didn’t try to kill myself. And I didn’t do a cry-for-help kind of thing. I just had a nervous breakdown or something.”

  “Why? I mean...” I didn’t know exactly what to say without sounding like an idiot. “What made you break down? Was it your father?”

  “Everything just hit me all at one time,” he admitted. “When my father was sent away to jail, my mother made promises that she didn’t keep. She promised to take care of us. But when my father came back, she was sidetracked. Everything became about him. He hated me. Then my best friend and I were going to run away. She was having problems at home, too. It seemed like a perfect plan, but when it came time to go, I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to leave my mom with him.”

  “Were you sad because you decided to stay?”

  He shook his head and said, “It’s good that I stayed. It’s just…”

  “It’s just – what?”

  “I miss her.” His eyes welled with tears.

  “Who? Your mom?” I asked.

  “The girl in the drawing that you stole from me,” he said. He smiled slightly. “Her name was Theresa. We were going to run away together. The day that we were going to leave, my father went crazy on my mom, and I knew I couldn’t leave her with him. I decided to stay to help her. Theresa couldn’t understand that. We got into a huge argument, and she just left. I didn’t think that she would really leave without me, so I didn’t try to stop her.”

  “You haven’t seen her since?” I asked him.

  A single tear fell out of his eye. He said, “They found her car off the side of the road with her in it. She wasn’t breathing. So...”

  “I’m so sorry, Daniel.”

  “Yeah,” he sighed. “Me too. She didn’t believe in what I believed. I blamed myself for everything. I felt like it was my fault, because I didn’t stop her or run away with her. But I know now that it’s not my fault. Even if I had run away, the problems would have still been there. My father would probably have killed my mother. Theresa probably would have still killed herself, and I probably would have done it, too.”