I Know My Mother Love Me, but Does My Father Even Care?

Jimmy’s pov
As soon as I opened the heavy doors to inside the psychiatrists building it felt like a prison. I didn’t want to be here and I doubt many others wanted to be here. It smelt like the hospital, and I suddenly felt nervous… I hated that smell… and it reminded me that they were probably going to ask me when I turned angry… then I’ll have to explain what happened with my mom. And I physically don’t think I’ll be able to…
The air was hot in the building and I saw several poster and leaflets around the room.
“Come on,” my dad insisted behind me.
I suppose he was just trying to be supportive so I didn’t snap at him. I went over to the reception.
“Hello,” she greeted with a smile. “How can I help you?”
“Hi,” I answered. “I have an appointment for 3; 30?”
“Okay,” she checked her computer. “James Sullivan?”
“Yepp,” I nodded.
“Right,” she pointed to the seats in the waiting room. “Take a seat and Dr. Maylee will be right with you,”
I nodded again. “Thanks,”
I sat down in the big comfy seat and felt more relaxed. My dad sat next to me and next to him Leana. I don’t even know why she felt like coming.
An assistant came out of a room and called my name. I stood up and so did my dad.
“Stay here,” I said.
He sat back down and I smiled at him to show I want being unpleasant. I just wanted to go by myself. He smiled back and it squinted his eyes.
I walked into the room with a metal door sign on it which boldly said, “Dr. Maylee.”
The room threw cold air at me as I entered and I suddenly felt calmer.
“Hello Jimmy,” she warmly welcomed and as she used my nickname I suddenly felt more comfortable. “How have you been?”
I wanted to reply sarcastically and say ‘well if I was good I wouldn’t be here’ but instead I replied, “Could have been better,”
“How come?”
“Things that have happened…”
“What things Jimmy?”
“My nom died... I'm stuck living with someone I don’t like and I'm relying on a 5 year old the most…”
“Right,” she interrupted, but somehow it didn’t seem rude… “Stop there for a minute; let’s talk about your mom.” My pulse suddenly rose. “When did she pass away?”
“About a month ago now,” I closed my eyes waiting for the next question…
“How did she die?”
“She was shot…” I looked at my hands, remembering the blood, remembering each moment like it was yesterday, every detail. “In front of me,” I eventually finished my sentence
“Must have been very hard Jimmy,” she nodded.
I nodded back, grateful she understood.

The revs pov
It must have been at least half an hour until Jimmy came out of the room.
He told me she wanted to see me. I felt nervous going in, like it was me being diagnosed.
“Mr. Sullivan,” she greeted as I walked in.
She stood up and shook my hand.
“Firstly,” she started, sitting back down. “Take a seat,” she pointed to the one opposite her own. “I would like to ask you a few questions about Jimmy, if that’s okay?”
I nodded. “Yeh sure, go ahead.”
“What has he been eating?”
“Hardly anything. He last ate on Wednesday, he’s refusing to eat, and he’s convinced he’s fat,”
“Right,” she typed something down on her computer. “He said his anger is uncontrollable,” I nodded in agreement. “This could be because he’s taking drugs,”
“What can I do to make him stop?”
“I’ll help with tat,” she replied smiling. “But really Jimmy needs to be persuaded to stop himself. You might want to see if you can hire an anger management tutor for him.”
“Okay,” I replied. “Anything to help,”
“I'm worried about him,” she frowned. “He said he cant concentrate in class,”
”Yeh I've had complaints from his teachers,”
“But that’s not all… he said he feels worthless, irritable and hopeless. He’s not sleeping right at night and he’s feeling guilty because his mom died-”
“Guilty?” I interrupted. “He shouldn’t feel guilty there was nothing he could do, he was lucky not to get shot himself, because they were aiming for the two of them,” instead of interrupting me she nodded and agreed. “He doesn’t need to feel guilty, I'm the one that should feel guilty and I do,”
“Maybe you should tell Jimmy that,” she suggested.
I nodded.
“I’ve finished diagnosing Jimmy,” she cleared her throat. “Jimmy is suffering from depression, which is understandable because what he’s been through. This could improve if he has a better relationship with you.” I nodded. “I will prescribe him to Tricylic anti-depressants, which will alter his brain chemistry. The side effects of these aren’t fatal but it’s something I know Jimmy would like,”
“What are they?” I asked. “So I know,”
“He could get drowsy; have an increased appetite which will cause weight gain. He could a lot get dizzy and shake or sweat. He’ll have six months of this medication, and if he doesn’t get better another 3 months and then we’ll go from there. The doctor will gradually cut the dose down.
“I'm also worried that Jimmy is suffering from anorexia. This means he’s starving himself but he’s still convinced he’s over-weight. He’ll have an intense fear of becoming fat, but he’ll continue to think he’s fat even if he’s extremely ill or close to death.
“If Jimmys got any strange eating habits, such as refusing to eat in front of people then that is down to the anorexia. He needs a lot of support and I’ve told him whenever he needs a chat I’ll be here. Jimmy will be in denial if we tell him that he’s anorexic. He could feel angry when he’s confronted. But if we don’t do something about it fast he could end up with permanent damage such as an irregular heart beat or shrunken bones.”
I never realised how severe anorexia was until she listed it. I was scared, worried about Jimmy. I had to help.
“Try and get Jimmy to eat one meal a day, and gradually persuade him to eat more.” I nodded. “The physical effects of Jimmy’s anger could effect him, both, short term and ling term. Being angry can effect your digestion, immune system, heart and circulatory system, which could increase the chances of a stroke. It will also effect his mental wellbeing,”
“What’s that?” I asked.
Mental wellbeing is a lot of Jimmy’s problems. It could be anything to self harm to depression. It also includes addictions, which he is to cigarettes. Did you know he smokes over a 100 cigarettes a day?!”
I shook my head. A hundred?! She couldn’t be serious.
“You know how serious that is, we will have to try and get him to slowly stop taking so many. If we can cut him down to 20 in a month that will be fine. And he’s self harming,”
“I know,” I hang my head in shame. I looked like a shit parent.
“Don’t put your self down James,” I gently put her hand on my shoulder. “This isn’t your fault; many parents struggle to keep a depressed child under control. And I'm sure anyone would find it hard to keep someone like Jimmy under control. You was right to come here, you’ll have support to help with Jimmy.” I smiled. “I'm also worried that if we don’t help Jimmy soon, his mental problems will evolve into schizophrenia. He is experiencing 2 of the 3 symptoms which are negative and cognitive. These symptoms include poor social function, lack of emotions, disorganized thoughts difficulty concentrating… Jimmy could feel embarrassed to cry in front of you. He still is upset about his mother dying, you need to make sure Jimmy knows he can turn to you whenever he needs, and he doesn’t need to be ashamed to cry.”
“I will,”
Dr. Maylee stood up and welcomed jimmy back into the room. He took the seat next to me but slowly inched it away from mine.
“Jimmy,” she said in a soothing, calm voice. “You are suffering from depression and anger management.” He nodded but continued staring at his hands. “Me and your father have discussed how to help you, and trust me we will do anything.”
“You will,” he agreed. “But he won’t,”
“I will,” I disagreed with him. “Jimmy I'm always here for you, now I am anyways,”
“Jimmy,” Dr. Maylee continued. “Your father wants to help, at least give him the chance.” He smiled slightly and nodded. “I have also diagnosed you with anorexia-”
He interrupted her, “I am not anorexic! I eat?!”
“Prove it to then Jimmy,” she smiled. “Eat at least one meal a day, that’s 7 meals a week, do you think you can do that?”
He nodded, “If I'm hungry I’ll eat.”
She handed me the prescription for the Tricylic anti-depressants (TCA’s). I took it and thanked her.
“And as I've already said to Jimmy, Sundays will be family days, when the whole family goes out somewhere. This will improve Jimmy’s social functions. This is important because it’ll prevent anymore illnesses.”
Jimmy sighed ‘family day’. He sounded fed up.
“Remember Jimmy,” she continued. “If you ever need a chat I'm here, but if not then I’ll see you next week,”