The Sun Shines Brighter in the West

“Chandler?”

“Dr. Settler,” I heaved a sigh of relief and continued, “I’m so sorry to call you at this hour but I need to see you. Please, I –“

“Meet me at the Waffle House in 15 minutes,” Tom Settler mumbled into the receiver before hanging up.

I closed my eyes and held my phone to my chest until I could steady my breathing. Finally, I got up from the bathroom floor and splashed cold water on my face before grabbing my purse and rushing out the door. As I was walking to Waffle House, I kept my pepper spray locked in my hand and stared straight ahead. Thankfully, I made it to the restaurant without any issues.

I sat myself at a booth and ordered coffee until Dr. Settler arrived. Although I’d experienced an emotionally crippling experience nearly two years ago, I’d only been seeing him for four months. In the beginning, I tried to block the whole thing out. I didn’t want help. I didn’t think I needed it and I didn’t want my family to worry about me. Nobody knew about the nightmares or the tears or the panic attacks. I was able to conceal it and most days nobody asked a single question. I was just the regular easy-going Chandler Baker. Then one day I had a panic attack in the car with my mother. She pulled over the car and comforted me and pried me for information. It didn’t take long for her to take me to a shrink.

The shrink was good for a little while. We talked about harmless things. My childhood. High school. Plans for the future. Then, it was time to delve into what was really the problem. I wasn’t ready. After that, I stopped going to my appointments. My mother found out, of course, but at first she was understanding about it. I worked at a part time job and took classes at the community college near us. My mother must have thought that I had dealt with my problems myself and that I was in the clear, but I was secretly still having the anxiety attacks and nightmares. I just didn’t want to share everything with a stranger.

It was after my father’s heart attack that I finally decided to go to another shrink. I couldn’t take the hurt and fear of his health issues, so I started visiting Dr. Settler once a week. He’s younger, just a few years out of school. He has eyes full of concern for me rather than the money and I think that’s what made it so easy to open up to him.

“Miss Baker,” Dr. Settler greeted me as he sat down.

“I’m so sorry, Dr. Set –“

“It’s just Tom outside of the office,” he interrupted, “And if you were about to apologize, then I’m glad I stopped you. Don’t be sorry. You’re the first patient to get me out of bed at this ungodly hour, but you probably won’t be the last,” he smiled.

I smiled back and sipped on my coffee. It was so easy around him. The feelings never vanished, but they seemed to be on pause for at least a little bit while he was around. Like all of my emotional trauma was trying to hide from him so it could feed on my body for the rest of my life. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about it. I just sat there and enjoyed the moment of peace while I had it.
“Well, I certainly didn’t get out of bed for nothing, Chandler,” he said after a few minutes. “What brought us here?”

“I don’t even know what happened. It’s so stupid. It was just another attack and I needed someone to talk to. I’m sorry. It was inappropriate to call you here,” I was beginning to feel anxious again. I put a five on the table and stood up. Tom stopped me.

“No, sit back down. We need to talk through this. It’s important for you to get better. Tell me what was running through your mind before and during the attack,” he folded his hands on top of the table and looked at me intently as I told him everything.

“Well,” I breathed, “During it, I was just thinking about breathing and dialing your number. But before I was thinking about everything I shouldn’t. I had time on my hands. I was bored, so I was just thinking freely and then…” I covered my face to hide the fact that I was about to start crying. Tom reached his hand out and touched my arm to comfort me. Still covering my face, I continued, “And then I thought of his face. His seemingly harmless face as he helped me out of the pool that I fell in. His smug face that was staring at me as I was trying to change clothes. His stupid face as it was above mine.”

I stopped there. It was too much. I always talked about how I was feeling with Dr. Settler. He knew what had happened. He knew the basics. I was raped. That was all he needed to know at first. He did his best at helping me with what little information I was offering him. Now, I needed him to know more because even after all this time, the memory is still overwhelming. It still comes at me in a huge, destructive wave turning my mind into complete chaos. I needed to share this information with Dr. Settler. I trusted him and now I just needed him to make me better. I needed to live. I needed my soul back.

Dr. Settler gently removed my hands from my face and handed me a napkin. After I finished wiping away my tears, he made eye contact with me and said, “This is progress, Chandler. A lot of progress, especially for three in the morning. Now let’s just finish this coffee and have a bite to eat and we’ll continue this progress in the afternoon.”

And so we ate.