Take a Step Back - Part 1: Let’s Get Started (Patreon)

Take a Step Back

Part 1: Let’s Get Started

Starting a day, especially a Monday, is often a case of efficient use of time. Certainly this Monday wasn’t one I was looking forward to having to get out of bed to start. The alarm that rang next to my bed was banging in my ears like a pair of saucepans.

Coffee was calling from the kitchen while the duvet kept me strangled in its warmth. Only one was a viable choice today, even if the duvet was whispering temptations into my ear. Even as my legs left the comfort of the bed, their grey fur splitting off in various directions, I could feel the cool air of the morning wind against them. Summer time for wolves is never a particularly easy one, shedding and thick fur not really matching the temperature of the midday sun, but sleeping naked was as good a solution as any.

Stretching out my body I carefully made my way to the bathroom, looking at myself in the bathroom mirror. A few splotches of white on my otherwise grey muzzle were in need of a bit of trim down, but otherwise the face of a graduate with little to his name just stared back. Red eyes, under which were the bags showing a lack of proper sleep, ruffled hair and a single flopped ear that had been part of my life since birth. A quick wash of both my face and hair minimised the time spent on personal hygiene, the only addition being a quick spray of store brand deodorant.

The rest of my grey fur would then be covered by a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Normally I’d have just thrown anything on, but today was the first social arrangement I’d had in weeks. Looking back I was lucky to be living with a friend who gave me free room and board but he was miles from anyone I’d once known. Leaving university, even with a degree, hadn’t helped me find any work in the short term.

Of course, that wouldn’t make any difference soon. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Breakfast was a simple affair of cereal and milk, nothing that required much effort on my part. Coffee was made and drunk, my brain taking the caffeine and turning it into the sharp tingle my body needed to get out of it’s morning haze. A brief glance down at my smartwatch confirmed the time.

Nine-Thirty, half an hour until she arrived.

There’s only so many times someone can tell you they think you’re depressed before you start to believe it. I’d been through that during my university studies, been told over and over that my struggles were a result of a chemical imbalance a drug or counselling could resolve. Not that I listened.

But once I was out of university, the decision to see a counsellor was made for me by my roommate, a wonderful tiger by the name of Paul. The one condition of staying with him was that I saw someone to get myself straight. So I called a local private clinic, asked for a preliminary appointment, and was getting on a bus and walking to the front door in a week, ready to just sit down and say nothing for an hour.

Instead the receptionist had given me a form, told me to sit down and fill it out with my personal details:

Name: Liam Drysdon

Gender: Male

And then to fill out some simple multiple choice questions:

Are you here for a) mental health counselling services, b) marriage counselling or c) addiction rehabilitation

A, obviously in this case. Not a hard start. The form then directed me to a specific set of questions based on that answer:

Are you here to get support for a) Depression/Anxiety/Stress, b) Schizophrenia/Bipolar Disorder/Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or c) Autism Spectrum Disorder or another neurodivergent condition?

Again, A.

Please answer the following questions with a yes or no:

Are you having suicidal thoughts?

No

Do you feel like your life isn’t worth living?

No

Do you feel hopeless at any point during a typical day?

This was more difficult now, more nuanced than a simple yes or no could answer. But that was what I was being asked to give. In the end I went with Yes. Better to be truthful and not hide the times it did occur to me.

Do you have any physical manifestations of mental illness, such as shaking, increased heart rate, incontinence, fatigue etc.

This was again hard to say for me. I answered Yes after a brief time thinking about it but even now I wonder if it was actually the depression that gave me those concerns.

Do you find yourself bored of hobbies you used to enjoy?

Yes, easy answer there. There’s only so many times you can play a first-person shooter over and over before it becomes stale, but no video game gave me any feeling of satisfaction.

Would you like to have counselling sessions at home? This may delay your application if we’re unable to find someone in your area.

I spent longer on this question than any other. Did I want to have someone in my room-mates house, talking to me about my most personal problems? Did I want to have to come here every week, costing me money and extra time if I could avoid it?

This would turn out to be one of the most important decisions I’ve ever made.

I chose to say Yes.

The last few questions on the sheet were diversity related, species, sexual orientation and so on. Once that was all filled out I handed it back to the receptionist, who began typing the information into her system while I waited for her to confirm everything was in order. She handed me a leaflet with full information about the services and what to expect.

“We’ll call you in a week to confirm if we’ve found someone” she’d said dryly “If you feel worse, you can call your doctor for emergency support. Don’t ever feel afraid of…”

“Thank you” I’d interrupted “I’ll do that”

It was clear that was just a general spiel that was being listed off for every new applicant and I had a bus to catch on the way back.

That was the last thought I’d had about it until a week later when I received a call on my mobile during lunch.

“Hello, am I talking to Liam Drysden”

It was a woman's voice, a slight hint of a southern drawl coming through the line as though she was trying to hide it unsuccessfully.

“Hi, yeah this is Liam”

“My name is Christine Gower. I’m a counsellor working for Free Mind. Are you free to chat?”

I have to admit I hadn’t been expecting a response this fast. Or even at all. I didn’t really have anything prepared for a good response.

“Err, yeah sure”

“Great!” one word out of her mouth and the positivity coming through in her voice was already grating “First of all, are you still looking to receive counselling at home?”

“I guess yeah”

I never said I was good on the phone.

“Well, I live just down the road from you! I’m more than happy to see you in your home.”

Huh. What do you know, it was a small world after all.

“That sounds good” I was forcing enthusiasm at this point, trying to give back something a little positive to match the voice I was having to listen to.

“I’m free on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, do you have a particular time in the day that would work? We’d need somewhere private if at all possible.”

I thought for a moment. Tuesdays Paul was out early and back late for gym. Perfect.

“Tuesdays are good. About ten am or five pm?”

“I’ll put you in for ten am! The sessions are for a single hour at a time. Home visits are charged at a hundred dollars”

Shit. That was a lot of money to an unemployed wolf. Still, Paul had said he’d cover this cost in the short term. I just had to hope it wouldn’t be an issue, or he could at least run up a tab.

“Yeah, yeah that sounds good.” I swear I would’ve said something different if my brain was capable of any other response than “that’s good”.

“Glad to hear it! I’ll see you on Tuesday. I’ll send you an email with my details and qualifications and you can check them over.”

“Sure, see you on Tuesday”

“Bye!”

Hard to believe that conversation had only taken place a few days before. Not having a job or study meant my time was unstructured, my mind and body not really paying attention to particular times of day for food or rest. Paul had already pointed out how unhealthy that was, not that I’d cared.

I looked at myself in the mirror, adjusting my t-shirt and jeans to look a little more respectable. In hindsight I should’ve just said I was only available in the evening, given myself more time to get into a proper state.

DING-DONG

The ring of the doorbell echoed through the house, sending my hair on the back of my head up into spikes. Nothing to do but let her in, try and be a good host and…

When I opened the door I was instead greeted by the face of a large rhino. He was fiddling with a tablet in one hand and a parcel in the other.

“Parcel for Paul Reynolds”

I sighed, letting out some of the nerves. Just the postman…

“Yeah, this is the right place”

“Sign for it here… and here… Thank you, have a good day kid”

I closed the door behind me as he left and hefted the large parcel inside. It wasn’t that heavy, but it was clearly a big order of something. No matter, I’d worry about that later once I’d had my appointment. Leaving it in the hallway would do until he could tell me where to put it.

DING-DONG

This time it had to be her. I didn’t think I could take another false start to this.

I don’t know what I expected when I opened the door to be honest. There was part of me expecting an elderly woman, someone who was helping out in her retirement. Motherly maybe?

Or a student of psychology who was training as a counsellor nearby. The voice hadn’t been that clear on the phone, but the enthusiasm could have been desperation for a bit of extra cash.

What I actually got was neither.

Standing in the doorway was an elephant, nearly a good foot taller than me and another foot wider. The end of her trunk was a bit further down from my eye level, my brain having to kick in and move my head up rather than down.

Her eyes were blue, shimmering and bright behind some well managed eyeliner and eyelashes. There was no hair to be seen anywhere on her head, but there was no doubting she’d have kept it stylish and managed if any were to be found. Large round earrings hung from her massive ears, jingling a little in the wind. A professional buttoned shirt covered her upper torso while a pair of jogging bottoms covered her huge legs, with no shoes covering her rounded feet. It was a weird combination look that was clearly more practical than stylish. A large black handbag was over her shoulder, a bright pink that clashed even more with the look than the bottoms.

I couldn’t help my jaw dropping. I knew I wanted to say hello, to say something in that moment, anything to end the sudden awkward silence.

Thankfully, she just smiled calmly at me and broke it herself.

“Hello, are you Liam?”

“Y...Yes! Sorry, you must be Christine?” I stuttered, putting my hand out to greet her. It was visibly shaking.

She took it in her own, the smile on her face not dropping an inch as she shook slowly “Yes! That’s me, I’m here for the appointment you made at the weekend.”

I moved out of the way and allowed her into the house. She bent down through the doorway, carefully adjusting her body to get through the frame and avoid breaking anything.

“Sorry, don’t worry I’m used to walking on eggshells most of the time!” she made her way down the hallway, stopping at the large box on the floor. She looked at the various stickers and design of the box, her expression changing a little as she looked back towards me.

“This yours? Need a hand getting it in?”

I shook my head “Nah, that’s my room-mates. But yeah, let’s move it into the lounge, gets it out of your way huh?”

She nodded “Sure does!” she grabbed both sides of the box and lifted it up easily, balancing it on her belly “Heh, big delivery.”

I don’t think I did a particular good job of hiding a new stunned expression because she giggled again looking back at me “Oh don’t worry, I’ve got this easily. Being big isn’t all bad” she winked, turning her back and heading down the hallway “Which way is the lounge?”

I gathered myself and walked behind her “On the left, just put it down past the door. Room-mate will put it where he wants when he’s back from work.”

With stable hands she placed the box down as we got into the main room. Clapping her hands together she gave me another smile as she walked towards the sofa.

“You alright if I sit down and get my stuff out and sorted? Probably a good idea to get yourself a drink before we get started.”

“Sure” I could feel the nerves coming across my tongue “Would you like anything?”

She shook her head “Thank you, but I have a thermos of coffee! I’ll be dipping into it as we go, don’t worry”

Leaving her to it I headed to the kitchen. My stomach was doing flips trying to work out what to say or do. Getting a drink now was at least something to focus on and ensure I didn’t embarrass myself.

Orange juice would do. I didn’t want to have to boil the kettle and make sure the various steps of making another cup of coffee were followed. Besides making myself feel even more shaky was definitely not going to help.

A full pint glass of the stuff made its way back with me to the lounge as my brain started to prepare. What was I even supposed to start with? Was she going to go in depth about all my life problems? Trace it back to my mother? Tell me I needed a girlfriend and a stable job and that I’d feel better after that?

“Are you alright Liam?”

“Huh?” I shook myself out of my stupor “Y..yeah sorry. Just lost in thought.”

“You’ve just been standing over that chair for a minute. I can let you gather your thoughts if that’s what you need”

I looked around. Sure enough I’d made my way over to the desk chair and prepared myself for sitting in it. Thank you subconscious brain, I’d probably have liked to know that.

“It… It’s alright” I sat down taking a swig of orange juice.

The sofa was now covered in various pieces of paper detritus, forms and notebooks. The thermos was already out and steaming from the top, its attached mug in Christines hands as she took a sip herself before putting it on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

“Just a few preliminary questions to go through!” she grabbed a clipboard and a pen “Right… so you said you wanted assistance with anxiety or depression”

I nodded “Yeah, I guess”

She ticked a box and made a note next to it “You said you had some physical symptoms?”

“Just some fatigue I think, I’m not really sure honestly.”

She smiled “It’s ok to not be quite sure of what the problems are Liam. This is a process of helping to clarify them as well as solving them, if we can.”

I looked down at my cup of orange juice “Ok, that makes sense.” I looked back at her “How long does it normally take?”

She frowned a little before recovering it, noticeably forcing back a smile “It depends on the person. If you’re looking to get through this quickly, it may not be that simple.”

I sat back in my chair and breathed out “Great”

“But” she followed up “You will have my support as long as you need it. This is my job, I’m not here to make it harder. If you feel like it’s no longer helping, you only have to say so and that’s it”

I nodded. I’d ideally wanted to keep that inside but I guess I wasn’t quite as in control of the vocalisation of my thoughts as I’d like.

“Just another question, you said you have a room-mate? Are you in a relationship with them or anyone else?”

I shook my head “No, he’s just a good friend. I don’t have a partner at the moment.” thoughts of university flings that had come and gone went through my head. I’d never pinned myself down to any of them. Commitment wasn’t exactly a common word in any student's lexicon, either theirs or mine.

Christine made a few more notes on the clipboard before putting it to one side and getting a notebook from the pile of things she’d removed from her handbag. Putting on a pair of half-moon glasses she leant forward and gave me a look of a teacher about to hear the confessions of a naughty child. A mixture of care and concern, a readiness to listen but also to assess, met my own clear nervousness and I froze up.

Another smile came across her face, a little twinkle in her eyes “Well, in that case, how about we get started?”