Dear John Letter

Status
Not open for further replies.
I

Inkheart789

Guest
Original poster
Damien put his hands in his pockets as he stood against his car. It was taking him awhile to build up the want to go up to his appointment. After about ten minutes he figured he was being enough of a wimp and had faced much worse.

"Suck it up." He muttered to himself, before opening the door and walking up to the waiting room. "I have an appointment with Dr.Owens." Damien told the receptionist, trying to remember how to greet people.
 
Jessica looked at her desk in dismay, stacking files and finding a mug to shove her sudden abundance of pens in quickly. The woman was an excellent psychiatrist, but her housekeeping skills were extremely lacking. By the end of the day, her receptionist would come in and refile the manilla envelopes for her, but it was only noon.

A knock to the door made her stop her sudden organization frenzy, smooth her blouse and call out, "Come on in!". Her 12:15 must have just arrived. Her receptionist opened the door and Jessica stood. "Doctor Owens, this is your new patient." The woman said, disappearing back to the front office. "Hello, Damien, is it?" She asked, glancing down at her appointment book.
 
Damien frowned when he heard a women's voice. He had been under the impression that he would be given a man who would have something in common with him. "Yes, it's Damien." He said, waiting in the doorway. He was used to recieving orders for almost everything he did. Damien did however let his eyes roam around the room, taking in how everything was.

The desk looked messy, but like someone had tried to clean it recently. The walls and chairs seemed to be trying too hard to make the room comfortable and welcoming.
 
"Come on in. New office, so I apologize for the mess..." Why was she apologizing? Yes, she was new at the job she'd been assigned, but that didn't mean anything. She hadn't specialized in post-combat counseling, she'd originally anticipated dealing with children.

"You can sit, stand, or lie down." She told him, pulling out a pen and a pad of paper, taking her seat and neatly crossing her legs, observing the man for a moment. An accurate read was a bit difficult, but she was jotting down characteristics she noticed. Almost disappointed at who had been assigned to his sessions, unless she was totally off. Definitely had the air of military about him. "How many tours?" She asked.
 
He walked in slowly before taking a seat on the edge of the couch, his posture perfectly straight. Damien did not comment on her apology, it did not matter much. "Three tours. Would have done more, but I messed up my hand."

Damien unconsciously put his good hand over the other. It had some nerve damage to it so he could not move it as fast as he used to be able. It was enough to have him discharged.
 
He didn't relax, from what she could tell. His posture was as perfect as humanly possible. Three tours. She scrawled, knowing she'd have to type up these notes later on. Three tours meant he hadn't been home in quite a while. "How has moving home been for you, thus far?" She asked him.

She watched as he put one hand over the other, wondering if that was the hand that had stopped his service. She was here to help him with whatever he needed, but the first meeting was basically an interrogation. It was something she hated about her job, but it was what it was.
 
Damien felt himself wanting to fidget, but he was trained not to. "This isn't my home. I would rather be on another tour." He said, keeping his responses short.

The only reason he was sitting there was because it was required. Damien hated the idea of letting someone into his life. Ever since his ex-fiancé he tried not to get close to people in any way. "Why do I have you? I thought they would give me someone who knew my situation." He asked in attempt to move the conversation onto her.
 
"Sadly, I don't have any control over that. I'm here to help you assimilate back to the civilian world, not help you get back into the military." She told him, figuring that was something she needed to put out there.

He turned the conversation towards her, and she wrote a bit more. "We're here to talk about you. But it's because I'm a new graduate and can't tell them no." She told him. "No, I don't know your situation. I won't pretend to. Have you had any issues since returning stateside? Mood swings, frustration?"
 
"I'm fine." Damien muttered, looking to his side at one all. "I've only been here for a few days. I don't know this area, so I just stay in my apartment."

He figured that would be a good amount of conversation. Hopefully it would satisfy her. "Sometimes I don't know what to do with myself though." Damien added, rubbing his hurt hand. It was starting to become a habit when he wanted to get out of a situation.
 
She looked down, making a face. Well, this was really going well. "Ah, I see." She said, thinking for a moment. Jess wasn't certain about what the professional opinion for this would be.

He added something, unprompted, and for a second she was totally elated that she may have broken through. "So start small. Try going to buy a coffee. Take a walk down the street. Slowly ease into more social events. Do you have any friends or family in the area?"
 
"No, everyone I know is on another tour or dead. I was planning on making the army a career." Damien said with a huff. He had deep anger at himself for getting hurt and not being able to do what he had planned to do ever since he got that letter.

He didn't want to admit that one of the reasons he didn't go out is that he didn't want to meet other people, didn't want to have friends. Damien wanted to be invisible until he figured out what to do with himself.
 
Well, wasn't he just chipper? "Ah, life of the army recruiter not your style?" She asked, knowing that she had two other men in that were ultimately looking at that for their future. Of course, they hadn't been discharged due to injury, so she didn't know what protocol was there.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk. "So tell me, have you put any thought into what you're going to do now that you're back?" The army seemed to be a touchy subject, so she wasn't going to push it for now.
 
Damien shrugged. "I have no idea. I wasnt good at much in college, I might see what positions I could get that have to do with the army. I figure I have some time to think about it."

He sighed before standing. Damien walked near the window, wanting to see the outdoors. He now felt trapped in rooms without windows since he had been outside for years. Being inside had been a rarity.
 
"You'll find that being good at college really doesn't help much with jobs lately. Since you're not my typical patient I can say that. If you need any help with finding one, though, that's what I'm here for." She told him with a shrug.

She was quiet for a few minutes, watching as he crossed the room to the window. "So, it's your turn to talk. Ask questions, tell me your thoughts." She told him easily. The clock had just turned to 12:45, indicating that they'd been talking for a half hour. An average session was 45 minutes, but could be extended to 60 when it was needed.
 
"I just don't understand I guess." He murmured, keeping his gaze out the window. "I thought I would get someone who would understand. I don't see how this will help. I'll talk to the officer who assigned me to you." Damien set one hand on the ledge of the window.

"What would you think about me getting a dog? We had them over there and I used to help train them in my free time. I've been thinking about it, but don't know if I could take care of it all." Damien didn't see this as too big of a deal and he did want someone else's opinion on it.
 
"The thing is that no one is going to understand exactly what you're going through. You got stuck with me for more than easy access. I'm unbiased. Since I was never military, my coming home story isn't going to overshadow yours." She said finally, not really wanting to lose a client on her first visit.

She thought over his question and nodded. "It's a good idea, if you're going to start going outside more. I'm sure you're aware of dogs and their walks?" She said, not the type of person to discourage a pet. Animals were therapeutic, it was scientifically proven. "We can get you what you need for a dog."
 
Damien nodded, turning towards her. "I guess I understand that, I was just expecting you to be male, I should not have assumed. As for the dog, I have seen a shop that sells them. I don't need help, I think I can figure out what I need." He set his hands in his pockets again and watched her.

"Can I go? I feel like that was enough for now. How often do we need to meet? I wasnt told much about this." Damien admitted, hoping it would only be once a week at most.
 
She nodded, smiling slightly. "Just make sure they're allowed in your apartment building before you go get one, eh? I'd really like to not be responsible for you getting evicted." She said, lightening up a bit with an admittedly lame joke. He pocketed his hands and asked permission to leave.

She glanced at the clock and nodded. "Six more weeks of weekly sessions, and once those are complete we'll see where you're at. Does next Wednesday at 2:00 work for you?" she asked, glancing down at her book.
 
"It allows dogs, that's why I picked it." Damien admitted with a shrug. He looked at the ground as he pretended to think about the date. He had nothing going on so any day would work for him.

"I think so, could you have someone call me to remind me?" He asked so he wouldn't have to try to remember. From his training it was already in his head, but he wanted to seem normal.

(How would you like to do this? Just have the sessions for now and have him explain his week or want me to do an overview and then we go into the session?)
 
(We can have him explain his week in session, as I honestly don't know what exactly to talk about in them all the time?)

"Well, it certainly sounds like a dog is a good fit for your lifestyle right now." She told him with a nod. He seemed to need to think about the day, so she patiently awaited a confirmation.

She nodded, "I'll put you down for a phone call." She told him with another smile, pulling a card from her desk. "Should you ever need to talk outside of our session, you can call me at this number." She told him, standing and extending the card towards him.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Top Bottom
Back