Counting Scars: Six Shoulders to Lean On

by Annie Belethil

That evening, he did everything he could to prepare for the impending phone call. Opening his notebook, he jotted down a few key words and phrases he could use for reference during the call. That way, if he forgot what to say, he’d have it all right there on paper.

  From past experience, he knew a conversation could quickly take off in a new direction, and it was this uncertainty that made it so difficult to plan ahead. Unless it was Christmas, Louis didn’t want any surprises.

  Still, he tried to think of all the various twists and turns the conversation might take, so he could calm his nerves a bit.

  Needless to say, Louis didn’t get much sleep that night. His anxiety kept him awake, tossing and turning in bed for hours at a time. Even though his eyes were closed, nothing happened.

  No matter how much he tried to fall asleep, he was unable to silence his chattering mind. The harder he tried, the worse it got. He hadn’t had a night like this for a while.

  Time passed by so slowly. His clock seemed stuck, like it wasn’t moving. Louis was beginning to worry that it was just as broken as he was.

  When he awoke the next morning, there was a strange smell in the room.

  As he looked around to find the culprit, he got another whiff of it. This time, it seemed to be coming from him.

  Raising his arms in midair, Louis checked them, one and then the other. Then, he watched as a heavy layer of sweat slid down his right forearm.

  He couldn’t believe he’d been sweating like this in his sleep without even knowing it. It was so embarrassing.

  Louis treated this morning like every other morning. First, he made his way into the bathroom to start his morning routine. When he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirror, it nearly made him jump backwards.

  Staring into the mirror, he gasped in horror at the dark circles beneath his tired, drooping eyes. It reminded him of a character he’d once seen in a horror film.

  Grabbing his toothbrush, he gave his teeth a quick, hard scrub before setting it back down on the sink to dry.

  After that, he reached for a little black bottle underneath the sink and pumped some sweet smelling hair gel out onto the palms of his hands. Gently, Louis began working it into his soft, blonde hair.

  No, he hadn’t forgotten. In fact, the loathsome phone call hadn’t escaped his mind for even a moment. Still, Louis was trying as hard as he could to focus his attention on something else for the time being. He just wasn’t having any luck with it.

  Once he was finished getting ready, he went back into his bedroom to change out of his pajamas and into his day clothes.

  As he pulled his shirt on over his head, Louis started to regret how quickly he had moved while getting ready.

  He wished that he had slowed down a bit and taken more of his time because now, he had no choice but to come to terms with the phone call.

  With all of his usual morning tasks complete, he knew that putting off the call any longer would just be delaying the inevitable. If he was going to do this, he had to do it now, so he could move on with his day.

  Otherwise, his anxiety would continue to mount, and he’d continue being miserable.

  Picking up the phone, both of his hands began to shake. It was the kind of reaction he’d come to expect, and it didn’t surprise him one bit. Still, that didn’t make it any less agonizing.

  Collapsing on his bed, he turned to face his laptop. Then, looking long and hard at the phone in his hands, he could feel the heart palpitations begin to quicken in his chest.

  Taking a deep breath, he held the phone out in front of him and dialed the number listed on the website.

  As soon as he tapped the send button, his body began doing some very strange things. His head started spinning, and his chest grew warm.

  He felt disconnected from his own body, like he was having an out of body experience.

  Only a few short seconds had passed before someone on the other end picked up, though it felt like an eternity.

  “Hello?” A woman’s voice spoke into the phone.

  “Hi,” Louis blurted out, “I’m calling for Susan Wilson.”

  “This is she,” Susan replied, “How can I help you?”

  The woman’s voice was low and serious, almost sad. Initially, it was a little off-putting, and it made Louis feel on edge.

  “I’m interested in starting therapy for several different anxiety disorders,” he disclosed, almost in a whisper.

  “I’d be happy to help. When would you like to schedule your first appointment?”

  “Sometime this week would be fine–I mean, if you have anything available.”

  “Let’s see,” she said, followed by a short pause.

  Though faint, Louis could hear the sound of papers being shuffled in the background. If he had to guess, he’d say she was checking her schedule for a good time.

  “I have a few openings tomorrow. Would you like to come in then?”

  No! Bad idea! Don’t do it!

  “Sure…that sounds good.”

  At that moment, the inner critic could feel his tight grip on him beginning to loosen, causing him to panic. For once, he was getting a taste of his own medicine, and Louis couldn’t help but smile at the irony of it. When the critic continued to pester him, he did his best not to listen, pushing him and his dirty antics away.

  “What time would you like to come?”

  “Do you have eleven o’clock available?”

  “Yes, eleven is fine,” Susan told him, “Can I ask for your name?”

  “It’s Louis.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting you tomorrow, Louis.”

  “Thanks, me too.”

  “Take care.”

  “You, too.”

  Hanging up the phone, he felt a huge wave of relief wash over him. He didn’t have to worry anymore–it was all over now. Nothing bad had come of it, and he was feeling just fine.

  An amused laugh escaped from his mouth, as he reveled in the glorious aftermath of his success. Could this be what it feels like to conquer the world?

  He pondered that thought for a while.

  That evening, his anxiety returned, as thoughts of tomorrow’s appointment ran through his mind. If this was anything like last night, he’d barely get a wink of sleep. Louis wasn’t about to complain, though–he’d take whatever sleep he could get.

  The hours leading up to the appointment were long and tedious, giving way to all kinds of thoughts and feelings. Louis felt so many things–fear, worry, doubt, dread, hope, and excitement.

  For better or worse, he expected therapy to be a life-changing experience. He just hoped it would prove to be the former and not the latter.

  Louis arrived there a few minutes early. Having parked his car, his gaze immediately fell on the exterior of the building.

  It was much bigger than he’d imagined, and it looked newer than many of the other buildings still standing in town. The freshly painted roof took on the shape of a rectangle, and it donned the palest shade of brown Louis had ever seen.

  Stepping inside, his fascination with the place continued to grow.

  The hallway carpet was smooth and spotless, appearing to have just been vacuumed either last night or this morning. The expensive padding used underneath made the little carpet strings effortlessly light and soft to the touch.

  The walls were painted a light orange hue and decorated with beautifully colored portraits, mainly of nature scenes. There was a sophisticated feel to the overall design of the building that made Louis feel completely out of place.

  As he walked through the spacious hallways, his inner critic called him out for his sloppy gait and awkward posture. Look at how disgusting you are. It’s so obvious that you don’t fit in here. What were you even thinking by coming here?

  No matter how Louis looked at it, the nasty little guy was right. He didn’t belong here, and he knew it too well to try and pretend otherwise.

  He arrived at room 208, and that was when it really hit him. Staring in horro
r at the closed door before him, Louis’ feet froze to the bottom of his soles. Here he was, about to share all the secrets he’d worked to keep hidden for so long with someone he’d never even met.

  She claimed to be an understanding therapist, but for all he knew, she could be just like his parents. They also believed they were good, kind people but all their actions proved them to be otherwise.

  He might start to open up and tell her about his problems and his past, only to have her laugh at him and make him feel like an idiot. If that happened, he’d regret trying therapy at all.

  The faster he’d get in, the faster he’d be able to get out of there. This realization, though helpful, served as little consolation for him. After all, no amount of rationalizing could make his anxiety go away.

  Swallowing hard, he gently turned the door knob and quietly tiptoed into the office.

  A woman in her mid-thirties was sitting behind her desk, diligently going over some paperwork. She was dressed in a long sleeve, baby blue collar top and a solid black pair of pants.

  Her brown hair was neatly tucked back into a bun, and her red lips came together to form a deep frown. Something about her hair and the sad look on her face made her look so familiar, but he couldn’t think just then.

  As a man, Louis admitted there wasn’t much for him to see–but then, that wasn’t why he was here. If he wanted to make a good first impression, then he’d have to focus on what was really important, and that was getting better.

  Luckily, it took her a moment to realize someone else was in the room.

  Looking up from her desk, she greeted him with an unexpected smile.

  “Hello,” Susan spoke in a raspy voice, looking just as shocked as Louis when he heard it. Trying to regain her professional demeanor, she cleared her throat and said, “You must be Louis.”

  “Oh, yeah–hi,” he replied in what was almost an inaudible whisper.

  She stood up from her chair and walked over to him, coming a little too close for comfort’s sake. Reacting, Louis took a step back, creating a little more distance between them. Being in an unfamiliar place with someone he didn’t know was agonizing enough. An arm’s length away–that was pure torture.

  “Please, take a seat,” she offered, extending her hand out to a cushioned seat next to where she stood.

  He sat down, glad to have his personal space back. Once he was fully situated, Louis couldn’t help but feel like he’d made a mistake in coming here.

  Tapping his forefingers nervously against his lap, he was starting to regret all the decisions he’d made up until now–searching the web for therapists, having that conversation with Karen, and making the dreadful phone call.

  Therapy offered him the only chance he’d ever have of leading a happy, normal life. If it proved to be a letdown, Louis would have to come to terms with a great loss. He’d have no choice but to accept his tragic end.

  Louis wasn’t sure what he was doing here. Had he really believed he could get better, or was he just tired of the same old routine?

  You’re wasting your time. You’ll never get better. It’s just wishful thinking. Maybe, what he really wanted was revenge–a chance to see his inner critic suffer instead.

  Susan sat across from him with her legs crossed in front of her.

  Holding a black pen in one hand and a brown notebook in the other, she raised her head to look at him.

  “At the first sessions, I usually ask my clients to tell me a little bit about themselves.”

  Susan stared at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

  Louis hesitated.

  Trying to make his life sound interesting, when it was anything but that, was not an easy thing to do. The disbelief on his listener’s face usually made that obvious.

  If he could be completely honest, Louis would say he had a dull, empty, and meaningless life, and there’d be nothing more for him to say.

  Since he was incredibly in tune with what was socially acceptable and what was not, that wasn’t really an option. A statement like that would be rendered completely inappropriate, and he knew it.

  Everything he could think of fell under this category, leaving him with nothing to say. Instead, his thoughts only served to remind him of just how pathetic his life had become over the last few years.

  “Hmm…I’m not sure what to say,” he admitted, swallowing hard and looking flustered.

  Susan could tell the formalities were making Louis uncomfortable, so she closed the notebook and set it on her lap, allowing her posture to relax some.

  Louis saw the hard edges on her face begin to soften a little.

  “How old are you, Louis?” she asked gently.

  “I’m 24.”

  “Then, you’ve finished school?”

  “Actually, I didn’t go to college,” he said with his head hung low. It almost sounded like an apology.

  “That’s ok. So, where are you at in your life right now?”

  “I have a job, but I work part-time and only make minimum wage.”

  Susan learned a lot about Louis in that one statement. The guilt in his voice and the anger in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

  Most likely, he was thinking back to someone in his life without realizing it. Whoever it was had turned a harmless topic into a very sensitive matter for him.

  He or she had made him feel ashamed for the career path he’d chosen, so that now whenever he talked about it, he automatically assumed a position of defensiveness. It didn’t matter who the recipient was–it would always play out the same way.

  Susan had seen a lot of clients like him in her work, so his reaction didn’t surprise her.

  From the testimonies of her clients, as well as her own personal experience, she knew just how easy it was to get stuck in a flashback. That feeling of complete and utter helplessness was too painful to forget, and it was one that she hoped she’d never have to revisit.

  Sensing his uneasiness, Susan tried to offer some support.

  “Some of the smartest people I know work at jobs like that,” she told him, “but I know a lot of people who wouldn’t agree with me. They think a person needs to have a college degree and a good job to be smart, but that’s not how I see it.”

  “How do you see it?” Louis asked curiously.

  “I think the person may very well lack the motivation or determination needed to achieve these goals, but not necessarily, the knowledge. Some people simply don’t have the support they need to make it through a four year school program. They have no one there to encourage them when things get rough.

  Even if they do make it, they won’t have the confidence to show up at job interviews–potential employers are much too intimidating.”

  While she was talking, Louis got lost in her warm hazel eyes. He’d been waiting his whole life for this–for someone to really understand him.

  Now, he’d found this woman–this strange, mysterious gem. Her words were like music to his ears, reminding him that he wasn’t the crazy one, and he probably never was.

  For the longest time, his family had him convinced that they were the normal ones, and he wasn’t. Now that he knew the truth, it was freeing.

  “I’ve never thought of it that way,” Louis said thoughtfully, “My parents are always telling me that I won’t amount to anything without a college degree. I tell them they’re wrong, but deep down, I’m not sure I really believe that.”

  “That must be so hard. It sounds like they’re basing your worth on what you accomplish.”

  “Yeah, and I haven’t accomplished anything, so–” Louis sighed, “I feel pretty worthless.”

  Despair crept into his eyes, his lips curling down into a frown. She’d seen that same look on her own face many years ago. She’d seen it so many times...

  His story brought back old memories that hit a little too close to home. Louis’ parents sounded an awful lot like her father, but it was no coincidence.

  “Your parents,” she began, switching back to
her serious demeanor, “Are they narcissists?”

  Louis nodded his head, surprised she’d been able to detect this with what little information she had about them.

  “How did you–?”

  He stopped short when he caught a glimpse of Susan.

  She was looking so intently into his eyes that for a moment, Louis thought she’d slipped into his mind and could read his thoughts. The idea should have frightened him, but he wasn’t scared at all.

  Instead, he was grateful.

  He’d always had a hard time putting his thoughts into words. If she could communicate with him like that, then he was all for it.

  Louis stared back into her eyes. There was something mysterious about her, though he couldn’t quite say what it was. He could tell this much, though–she had a secret her mind was willing to share, but her mouth wasn’t.

  If only he could read minds–then, he would know everything.

  For the first time in both of their lives, they were completely entranced by a stranger–it was comforting, a little terrifying, and altogether new. In just a few short minutes, they’d connected on a deeper level than most human beings do in a lifetime–all this, without saying a word.

  Looking into his eyes, Susan felt something she’d never felt before–the feeling was warm, invigorating, and liberating. It was a good feeling, but it scared her.

  It didn’t quite feel right.

  Snapping back into the present, Susan blinked. If she was going to be of any help, then she’d better get it together.

  She was here for business and nothing more–at least, that was what she kept telling herself.

  Fumbling over her notebook, she struggled to open it. Trying to keep her feelings from showing, she did her best to assume a professional attitude.

  Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if he saw through her little act.

  The moment she’d broken eye contact with him, Louis returned to his own uncomfortable awareness.

  With his fist held to his lips, he cleared his throat before deliberately rubbing his hands down the center of his thighs.

  He was trying to cope with the delicate situation as discreetly as possible. Nevertheless, he was fairly certain she’d seen his every move.

  Susan sat up on the couch and straightened her shoulders.