Frozen ( Tag: Sean )

[Benton Barrett]

It was with extreme trepidation he’d decided to do this. Part of it had been his mom’s idea, and the other part was Dean. Dean said it – that Sean was amazing. He at least made Benny feel like talking to him – at least once – wouldn’t hurt him. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to talk about. How to approach any of this, especially since his last shrink…

Well, he’d been a shrink, not a psychiatrist, and apparently there was a difference.

Quietly, Benny approached the door to Dr. Neville’s office, still fighting with himself. It would be easy to bail. It wouldn’t bother him, or anyone else if he did. Someone else who really needed his help could get it, and Benny wouldn’t be wasting his time with what… a panic attack? That was probably the least impressive thing on the docket. He took a deep breath, and put a hand on the doorknob. He knew he was giving himself a last chance to turn away.

The metal of the knob was cold on his palm – but then, everything was. He adjusted the sleeve of his red hoodie with his other hand, mostly as a nervous tic. He was supposed to be here – he was supposed to go in. Still, he almost felt like an intruder. Like he was pretending, doing something that he shouldn’t be. Burdening someone important with problems that were probably a dime a dozen – not even real problems, by comparison to other places, as Koty had so easily pointed out.

Still…

He didn’t feel right leaving. He knew that if he didn’t talk to someone – be it Dean, or maybe Alex..? He was going to keep going down this road of panicking every so often. He couldn’t keep doing that. Not again. His grip tightened on the doorknob, and after a second he let go. The door was ajar, but he wouldn’t simply throw it open and start his first meeting that way. As calmly as he could manage, he lifted his knuckles and rapped on the door, letting out a nervous breath. His other hand was shoved firmly into his pocket, curled into a fist that could turn coal into diamonds.

Okay, maybe not, but the point still stood.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean Neville didn’t bite.

He also didn’t say this to other people, since that type of unsolicited assurance only achieved the opposite effect. Few, in any, people were comforted when someone tried to reassure them with a trait that out to be considered standard.

However, he was gentle, compassionate, and patient. He cared about the students, and he was willing to put in the time and effort to build a genuine rapport with whosoever entered his office when they weren’t sent there for abusing other students. While some students resented his presence in their lives, many others spread the good word, encouraging others to come to him with their problems.

The psychiatrist was not in an appointment, which meant that he was in the process of reviewing notes for a faculty meeting. However, he heard the knock outside of his door, and sensed the presence of the student there. As such, he marked his place and set the notes aside; they would keep for later.

“Please, come in!” He called out to the boy. He could enter, close the door to give them privacy, and then make himself comfortable in any of the chairs or on the sofa at the other side of the room. It was his decision to make.

[Benton Barrett]

Though he already had a grip on the doorknob, he could feel his other hand shaking in his pocket. He took a deep breath, and let it out once more, as he heard an older voice call back out to him. Inviting him in. He had one last opportunity – he could leave, still, before the other guy knew who it was. He could just walk away, and put it behind him. But of course… down that road lay madness. Or at least, that’s what Benton was going to go with for now.

Tugging the door open, he stepped inside, doing his best to not look as distraught as he felt. Carefully, so as to not slam it behind him, he closed the door, going so far as to twist the handle as he did. Not even the small mechanical click of the latch closing would be audible, because he only let go of the door once it was already shut.

“Um…” He intoned, biting his lip, looking at everything but the doctor. Finally, his gaze settled on one of the chairs across from the desk, which he mentally claimed for himself. He went ahead scooted around the arm, before dropping into it with the same gentleness that he’d closed the door with. He just felt so raw. The last time he’d been in one of these offices…

“I’m sorry. I…” Benny hesitated, because this probably was par for the course for the doctor. “I haven’t exactly had… good experiences with shri—with psychiatrists before. But Dean said you were different – that I should try and talk to you.” He started, though of course, he realized how blunt he was being.

“I mean, that is if you have time. It’s just stuff, and I don’t… you don’t have to listen to me or anything. I totally understand if you’re busy.” That way, if the doctor sent him away, he’d at least tried, which wasn’t the same as quitting outright. “Oh. Uh. My name is Benton. Benton Barrett.” He added, quietly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

It was not so easy to turn and run on Sean, simply because he was far more aware of the entire student body and their activities than one might assume at first glance. Through telepathic channels, he had ways of finding the students and knowing who had need of him at any given time, even if he didn’t always follow this knowledge by proactively seeking out a given student. It depended on the situation.

However, such considerations were rendered unnecessary when the door opened. Turning to greet the boy, he offered him a soft smile. “I have plenty of time, and I assure you that there’s no need to apologize.”

Benton was hardly the first, and would doubtlessly not be the last, student to come to his office who had poor previous experience with mental health professionals. He prided himself on doing what he could to provide students with more positive experiences, while simultaneously meeting their mental health needs. He had a good track record.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Benton. I’m Doctor Neville, but you can call me ‘Doc,’ if that would make you more comfortable.” Sean reached across the desk, extending one large hand for a handshake, if the boy was so inclined.

[Benton Barrett]

The man didn't seem like he was particularly growly - like he legitimately liked doing what he did. Stranger things had happened, Benny could only guess. Still, he didn't have that glazed-over look in his eyes that typically signified that this wasn't going to go anywhere. He let out a quiet breath and nodded. "Thanks."

It was one of those double-edged swords. Now that he'd said it was okay for them to talk..? Benny would have to talk.

His hands were pressed firmly into his lap, fingers laced together in a way that made him have to pause to disentangle them when Doctor Neville offered his hand. He let himself reach out a hand, and accept the handshake, though he made sure it was quick, and not the kind of thing that was 'macho-showing off' or things.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Doctor Neville." He replied - mostly because 'Doc' sounded too informal, too friendly, and Benny wasn't sure how friendly he wanted to be just yet.

"I..." he looked down uncertainly. "Where should I start?" He asked, biting his lower lip. After all, this was his first time voluntarily coming forward. Should he just dive right in to his problem? Was there a medical... or psychiatric history that needed to be delivered? This... was weird.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean acknowledged the expression of gratitude with a nod, although he didn’t offer a you’re welcome, as he didn’t want to call any further attention to the boy’s nervousness and discomfort. The psychiatrist did legitimately enjoy his work, because he cared about the students, and he had experience on his side when it came to assisting with problems. However, this was not about him; it was about Benton and whatever was on the boy’s mind.

He waited for Benton to make himself comfortable, so that they could begin. Unsurprisingly, the boy’s nervousness appeared to carry over into beginning this impromptu session. Fortunately, as Sean had already promised, they could go at Benton’s pace, whatever it was. This was why the psychiatrist was here, in this room: to listen to students and allow them to go at their own pace.

“Where do you want to start?” Sean didn’t subscribe fully to the tabula rasa school of psychoanalysis. While he asked questions of his patients as a way of learning about them, of engaging with them, and of prompting them to consider a different avenue of thought, he didn’t typically answer questions with questions. However, this was a situation wherein there was no correct answer, and it was important for Benton to be aware of that. “We’re here at your leisure, so start in whatever way makes you most comfortable or makes the most sense.”

[Benton Barrett]

When the good doctor countered with the whole where do you want to start question, Benny had a pang of familiarity. No, that question was cheating, but he also knew that it would have to be him that set things up. Quietly, he rubbed the back of his head with one hand, feeling the folds of his hood laying back on his neck.

There were all sorts of places he could start. Some places he refused to start – no amount of wanting to talk could drag those memories back out of him. They were firmly buried in the past, and that’s where they’d stay. Maybe… maybe he could just start with the first thing at Hammel.

“I… used to have panic attacks. A lot. Sleeping wasn’t easy, and I was anxious a lot. That’s why I started seeing a shri—psychiatrist.” Don’t insult the psychiatrist. They could have you taken to the looney bin. “They got me on some drugs that helped – alpra-something. It took a couple of years, but I eventually got over them, more or less. I thought… you know, I’d been to therapy enough to be done with all that stuff, so I stopped going, and went off my meds, and it hasn’t been a real problem for me.”

The last year had been pretty free and clear as far as most of his anxiety and panic attacks.

“Since I got here, I’ve had two. One on my second day, that Dean helped me though, and another one about a week after that.” Which Reece helped him with… but he wasn’t going to go there. “I just feel like I’ve gone back in time and… I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I haven’t told my family because I don’t want them to worry but I can’t… keep feeling like this, waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Well. That… had been a bit more direct than he’d originally intended.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean waited patiently for the boy to begin, since he had given Benton an open invitation to start however, and wherever, he saw fit. Then, when the boy did begin to speak, the psychiatrist began taking mental notes. Mental notes proved useful during sessions like this, because they provided him with the ability to retain the information for later (when he could write them down at his leisure), without interrupting the flow of conversation, or appearing that he was not listening, because he was too busy writing down his notes.

Panic attacks were not particularly uncommon, particularly if the boy suffered from general anxiety and subsequent insomnia. Sleep difficulty was correlated both with anxiety and with depression, after all. Sean also made note of the fact that Benton had seen a psychiatrist previously, and that he had been given medication. “Alprazolam?” He asked to clarify; that was Xanax’s generic name.

“When you went off the medication, did you do that with your psychiatrist before you stopped seeing them? Or did you do that cold turkey?” Sean’s question was free of judgment; he simply wanted to have the clearest, most complete understanding of Benton’s past history.

The reemergence of the panic attacks was not entirely surprising, given the stress inherent in developing meta-human abilities, as well as the adjustment to Hammel. However, he also understood the boy’s concern, and he would never dismiss that out of hand.

The psychiatrist spoke gently, as he said, “I understand those feelings, although I wouldn’t necessarily call it going backwards. These are major life disruptions. In terms of what to do, that depends on what you want to do. Do you want to go back on medication? Do you want to try to manage this without chemical intervention?”