Just One Foot Wrong, And I'm Gonna Fall (Sean)

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Another day. Another session. With that guy.

This was getting old. And Oriel was starting to lose stamina. Especially since every session with Mr. Dr. Neville pretty much started out the same way. Every session, the same burning question stewed in the foremost of his thoughts. Most days he was silent about it. Dr. Neville was a telepath. It was impossible for him to not know what Oriel hoped for every single time they met. Other days, he'd speak up, and when met with the answer, he'd fall in on himself in his disappointment. Or he'd visually express his dissatisfaction with the answer. One which he didn't want to hear. After all, who ever wanted to be told that they weren't doing good enough? Especially not when said person thought he was doing well.

It'd been something of a roller-coaster for him, his therapy was. There'd been some bad reactions to whatever medication his dear old doctor thought was best for him. First, it felt like every single negative emotion he had about himself just exploded on him. Then there was something that fussed with his appetite for a while. He'd lost weight, needless to say. There was a period where he was just...hollow, was the only way he could describe it.

But...he was doing better this time, wasn't he? He'd gotten out there, in the community and put himself to work for the greater good. He'd completed the anger management course, though he was reluctant to admit that he'd actually learned some things about himself form it. He'd made efforts to reconcile with at least one person he'd fucked over during this whole incident. He'd found the motivation to get himself a job(that was a big one for him, and one that he must admit made him quite pleased with himself). He hadn't pummeled anyone's face into the concrete(not that he hadn't felt like it though), though that might've just been because he was avoiding people he knew would piss him off to that degree. Actually, he was pretty much avoiding everyone, save for his much-looked-forward-to supervised encounters with Phoenix. And a couple of his friends(like Erik and maybe Kodi, but those interactions were still sparse).

Oriel got a tumblr page. He wasn't sure if that was relevant to anything though.

And, of course, the most eventful thing lately, which had to be proof that he was ready for all this shit to be over with, would have to be his recent proposal to his one-and-only. Right? Right?

Oriel sat there in front of Sean's desk, with a stiff, hopeful expression pasted on his face as he awaited either a "yay" or "nay" from the Great and Powerful Oz. Was this over yet? Could he and Phoenix be together, finally?

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean possessed far greater patience than the average person. Certainly more than the average teenager. More than Oriel Vanguard did.

This served him well in his chosen career path as well as in his personal life. Particularly in his chosen career path, since he spent the vast majority of his workday interacting with teenagers, many of whom were in the midst of crisis or otherwise had factors that led to stubbornness and impatience. Many of whom resented having to see him, particularly those who did so on a consistent basis.

Such as Oriel Vanguard.

Their sessions proceeded at the pace Sean had expected when Oriel had first consented to (and insisted on) anger management sessions with him. The psychiatrist continued to believe that the boy would benefit from a traditional anger management environment, which meant a peer group of those with similar tendencies and in a similar age range under the guidance of someone who specialized in group therapy and anger management. Still, they moved forward for the most part.

There remained other snags. The fact that Phoenix and Oriel’s relationship was toxic from top to bottom did not help, and it undercut the motivation for the boy to gain control of himself. His self-loathing and poor impulse control did not help matters.

Still, they met dutifully for each session, and so the psychiatrist was ready for today’s to begin as they often did.

[Deleted]

He wasn’t saying anything. Dr. Neville wasn’t saying anything. Did it always have to start like this? Did Oriel always have to be the one to initiate the conversation? Oriel didn’t get why, the doctor already knew what Oriel would prefer to address, or at least would prefer to hear, so….if he didn’t say anything, did that mean Oriel had to assume the worst?

Again, Oriel wished he had some sort of psychic power or ESP that allowed him a hint into other people’s thoughts, feelings, or intentions. It was maddening to the boy not knowing these things, and his mind often ran wild with the worst case scenarios, no matter how illogical they were.

That was something he’d had exercises on learning how to control during his anger management sessions. How to not jump to conclusions before he had all the information. Which was another battle in itself, in learning how to trust that the information they gave him was accurate. Honest. Oriel had absolutely no trust for strangers. Little for casual acquaintances. From there, it was a vastly large leaping increase in trust for those he’d gotten close enough to call ‘friends’. Friends…from there it should be family, but…he didn’t have much of that. To Oriel, his friends were his family, which is likely what accounted for the drastic jump.

Sean…the doctor…he was a floater, to be honest. Oriel liked him. He respected him. He wanted to trust him, and he did for the most part…but there was always that inkling of doubt whispering in the back of his mind, telling him everything that he feared was true about the doctor’s intentions towards him. And that had to stem from the fact that Oriel had done little to make the guy like him as a person. And while he knew that as a patient, and with Dr. Neville being a professional there was a level of commitment that would always be there, it still disheartened him thinking of the possibility that if that relationship wasn’t there then there’d no longer be a reason for Dr. Neville to care.

When there were long silences like this, it only made Oriel more anxious, feeling like he was being silently judged over everything that was swirling irrationally through his mind. “Uh…” he started, finally breaking the silence. “So…” What to talk about? “I got my grades up.” Again. They’d been essentially non-existent for the first half of the semester. “A little.” Oriel looked down, continuing to sit stiffly in his seat.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean’s life was comprised of what he referred to as “telepath moments” – situations and interactions that only occurred due to the fact that he was a known telepath, and thus which only made sense in that context and, in some ways, could be appreciated only by another telepath. Some of the expectations in his sessions, and outside of them, constituted telepath moments. Straddling the line where people resented you for your ability to read their thoughts while also resenting you for expecting them to speak aloud, as they did with every other person on the planet.

Fortunately, Sean was adept at navigating telepath moments, even if he did not enjoy doing so.

Which brought him to Oriel. The boy’s expectations often exceeded the realities of their situation, and sometimes he imparted supernatural abilities to the psychiatrist, well-beyond anything granted to him by his meta-human abilities. Also, the boy lacked patience, which fed into his anger problems, and created a never-ending cycle of frustration.

One step at a time.

Part of the exercises in learning self-control involved learning to articulate clearly his desires and concerns. So Sean left it to Oriel to ask his questions, as opposed to answering them without invitation.

Since the boy beat around the bush as an opening gambit, the psychiatrist met him there. “I’m glad to hear that.” That was true, since he did want Oriel to succeed academically in addition to making the emotional and relationship progress. Of course, he knew the state of his grades so that the only possible direction was up, but it remained a start.

[Deleted]

Oriel nodded at the doctor’s short response. He couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not. This guy was always hard to read. But….he had no reason to be anything but, right? Oriel tried to push those doubt out of his mind. They weren’t going to do him any good right now. Well, they weren’t going to do him any good later either, but right now….he was anxious enough without worrying about how much the doc actually cared.

Since he’d started on that subject, may as well continue with it. Why did Oriel always have to take the back entrance to topics he really wanted to discuss? Because it meant actually talking about something that mattered, it meant opening the door to hear all the criticisms he already told himself from someone else, validating his own self-loathing. Oriel cleared his throat. “Thanks….” It was hard to look up at the doctor when he actually started speaking. Every time he tried, his eyes would find some other corner to stare at instead.

“I, uh…I did the math,” he started. “And….don’t think I’m going to be graduating this year.” If there was one thing he was good at academically, it was numbers. Numbers were easy, he always said. There were only ten of them. Back to the point, Oriel figured that even if he by some miracle managed to pass all his classes this year, he’d still short on credits to graduate. Mainly in English and History. Of course.

This more or less segued into the topic Oriel did want to talk about. “Were you, uh…..you weren’t serious…’bout keeping me and Phoenix away from each other ’til after I graduated….were you?” Oriel could barely stand it now, the thought of having to wait that long made his heart sink down to his shoes. Nothing could suck more than that.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean also wanted to know why Oriel preferred to beat around the bush rather than ask a question outright. That would be part of the ongoing project, since directness assisted with anger management. So much anger was caused by frustration, and so much frustration could evaporate when people were honest and open about their desires and fears, rather than passive aggressive. But that would be a long term project, one that would take longer than the duration of this conversation. So instead, they would discuss academics until Oriel articulated what he actually wanted to say.

“How many classes are you short?” Technically, Sean was not the school’s guidance counselor, but they also lacked a proper guidance counselor, and thus the psychiatrist had his hand in many pots. That included keeping up with the students’ academic performance, even if, in the end, discussions about graduation fell to Yvette as Headmistress. Since Oriel was one of his, Sean had all the more reason to stay abreast of his coursework.

Although that proved to be a segue, as the boy’s next question demonstrated. The psychiatrist waited for him to finish, before he asked in response, “Do you think I’m prone to threats that I have no intention to keep?” His voice held no frustration, no anger. His question was merely that a question, rather than a trap or a caustic barb.

[Deleted]

The funny thing was that Oriel hated it when other people were evasive and passive in their points, he hated it vehemently and made a point to not respond if people approached him that way. Oriel thought he was direct, but maybe he was only directly insulting to people? If their hair sucked, then they knew it, but if he actually liked them, then it took him all the routes except the right one to get it across. Oriel sighed.

“Two…” he muttered, looking down to the left. “….reading still ain’t my…” It was far from his strong point. Even though he didn’t have as many problems as he did when he first arrived at Hammel(heck, he was better than he was just a year ago), that first couple of years of failing classes was really coming back to bite him in the ass. Back then he didn’t give any shits, but now…now he had things on the line. And Oriel didn’t want to mess it up. Not just in his academics either. “….and that’s assuming I even make it through this year.” There was still a long way to go, and Oriel was terrified that something was going to happen to screw it all up again. Not really just something, but that he was going to lose his grip on himself before then and just fall, like he always did.

And if that happened….Oriel didn’t want to think about what might happen. Even so, he couldn’t help it. “I…I don’t know,” he mumbled. Oriel did know, though, and the reality wasn’t one he wanted to hear. His posture seemed to slump under it’s own weight. “I don’t….I can’t wait that long!” he said through clenched teeth. Oriel raised his head finally. “But I don’t think I can…I can’t do what you want me to do!” Oriel took a deep breath. His eyes were starting to glisten. “I’m…I’m not even sure I know what it is you want me to do. And I feel like I’m not going…” Oriel stopped and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. He took another breath. “…like I’m not getting anywhere. Like there’s something I just ain’t getting. Like everyone else can figure it out, but nobody’s telling me.” How was he supposed to know where he was going if he couldn’t even see…if he didn’t even know where the finish line was, which direction it was in, he didn’t even know what it looked like, just some vague impression that seemed too immaculate for him to ever reach. It was hopeless. And it was frustrating as fuck. And Oriel hated it.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Two was better than it could have been, and the psychiatrist intended to check in on that when Oriel left his office. Perhaps at the next staff meeting, he could propose that one of the English teachers arrange for tutoring. Oriel displayed the capacity for improvement, and, perhaps with the right external motivation coupled with one-on-one instruction, he could get through summer school or graduate next winter, rather than a full year behind.

Time would tell.

At the moment, they both had more prescient concerns. Oriel wanted to know about when he could see Phoenix again. Sean wanted Oriel to keep calm and articulate clearly his desires, frustrations, and concerns.

First, the boy backed down from his question, which told the psychiatrist everything he needed to know. He didn’t make idle threats, outside of dealing with absurd people, because he was a man of his word. Keeping his word, including keeping his threats, allowed him to negotiate boundaries with other people. That quickly proved to be an aside, because Oriel went on before Sean could provide the correct answer.

He waited, allowing the young man to say his piece, to get everything off his chest. Truly, the psychiatrist wanted to hear what was on his mind, and he wanted Oriel to clearly articulate his thoughts and feelings. Failing that, he wanted them to find as close a shared frame of reference as possible.

Reaching across his desk, he pushed the tissue box towards Oriel; he would not otherwise call attention to the tears shining in his eyes. But he noticed them.

“Do you know how anger management, frustration, and patience are related?” Although a serious question, Sean treated it as largely rhetorical, providing his own answer so that Oriel could listen and learn. “When people are frustrated they’re more likely to get angry. When angry, they’re more likely to make bad, impulsive decisions, such as acting out physically, or saying what they later regret. Learning to master patience, and how to think long-term, does wonders for anger.”

He could speak from experience. While he didn’t have a temper to speak of, he also engaged in most strategies for maintaining his calm, with excellent results.

Keeping his attention focused on the boy, Sean added, “If you don’t understand something, all you have to do is ask. It’s always better to ask than to keep things bottled up until they explode. That wears down patience and will undermine your efforts.”

[Deleted]

Oriel didn’t care much about his classes…well, he cared, of course, he wanted to graduate and get that out of the way. Now that he knew he could do it, he was going to regardless of how long it took. But he didn’t want it to take a long time, because then that would mean that the hold that Hammel had over him and in keeping him from doing what he wanted and being with who he wanted - basically, in seeing Phoenix - would be much, much longer than he could tolerate. Oriel was certain that he would mess up again if he was forced to wait that long.

The other option Sean had given him was just as hopeless, in his mind. ‘Show progress’ was so incredibly vague, he couldn’t stand it. And not knowing where that line was was just making him feel even more frustrated, more pathetic, and more…it felt like he was being asked to fly when he didn’t have wings.

Oriel looked up at the tissue box that Dr. Neville had pushed over to him and considered it. He’d shed so many tears during his sessions with Dr. Neville, he…he wouldn’t say he’d gotten used to it, but there wasn’t a point anymore to trying to run away whenever he felt the need. The act itself didn’t help anything, but he couldn’t make them stop. So Oriel just wiped them away as they came, pretending they weren’t there. He wasn’t sure whether he appreciated or resented the way Sean acknowledged them….

The question made his stomach sick. Hearing it, and the explanation which followed, made him think that the doctor was saying in some roundabout way that Oriel’s problems were his own fault. Well…it was probably true, but it didn’t make him feel any better about the situation. Just the opposite, it made him feel even more helpless and like he should just give up hope altogether. If there weren’t any expectations to hope for, then he couldn’t be disappointed when he didn’t get them, right? “…..I am frustrated. I am impatient. And I am fucking pissed about it!” No, Oriel was not going to apologize for that use of language, because it wasn’t a slip. He’d said it on purpose for once.

Oriel took a couple slow breathes. Then a couple more. “I….” Shit, how was he supposed to say these things anyway? “I don’t know….what I’m s’pposed to do….” His voice cracked. “I’m just so…and it doesn’t go away!” The tears were starting to fall again. He still refused to take the tissues. Oriel clenched his hands into fists and kept them firmly on his knees. “Controlling it’s fine and good and all,” he continued. “I’m doing that….mostly.” And knowing the whys behind it was something he never really bothered with figuring out until he took that anger management course. It was interesting to figure those out. But… “But….it doesn’t go away….not really….and I…I don’t know what to do about that.” And that just frustrated him more. Which in turn made him panic more about all this “progress” business, which made him terrified that he couldn’t do it and that he’d never get to see Phoenix again, and all that just frustrated him all over again and then he was even more pissed from about a dozen or more different directions. Which put him right back where he started.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean did not say anything as Oriel wiped the tears from his eyes. He never passed judgment on anyone for crying. Crying was healthy, and he subscribed to no code of masculinity that found them incompatible with being male, or being a functional adult.

“Language.” The correction came reflexively, and it remained one of the most common corrects that the psychiatrist had for Oriel specifically, and for students generally passing through his office. He had never cared for profanity, even if he used slang – albeit from the 1960s and 1970s, which had been his formative years linguistically – outside of work. As an adult and as an authority figure, he expected a certain degree of decorum and respect.

With that out of the way, he focused on the content of Oriel’s rant. He sympathized in one sense, because it could be difficult to learn to control oneself. Oriel certainly had more issues than the typical person in learning self-control. However, falling into those same mental traps would guarantee that he remained trapped in an unhealthy cycle.

“Some people believe that all of us have a default emotion, something that we reset too in difficult situations, and the one we identify most readily when we feel a jumble of emotions at once. Yours is obviously anger.” The psychiatrist would not allow Oriel to get a word in edgewise there, since neither of them needed sarcasm or another rude outburst. “It doesn’t matter if those people are right or if they’re wrong. If you visualize this as being true, what you need to learn to do is shift anger from being your default.”

That would probably be easier for the boy than trying to learn to center himself the way that Sean did. Plenty of people with healthy relationships with themselves and with anger found Sean’s level of patience and calm out of reach, if not absurd on its face.

“It won’t simply go away, and if you make destroying it the goal rather than controlling it, I can promise that we’ll have this conversation every week for the next year at least.” Assuming that Oriel didn’t graduate, then another year was a given.

[Deleted]

Language, language…of course….of course, he’d watch it. He’d been doing at least a little better in that area. It just…he just hated being reminded every time like he was a fucking five-year-old. And it grated on him. Being pointed out his ‘mistakes’ all the time.

Well, if you don’t want them pointed out, then maybe you shouldn’t make them in the first place, a voice told him. If you don’t want criticism, then stop doing things people can criticize. Don’t fuck up, make no mistakes, be perfect, then nobody will have a reason to say anything about it. Only they would….in Oriel’s experience, if people wanted to criticize, they’d find a reason to, no matter how ‘perfect’ you were.

Oriel swallowed and tried to pretend that those thoughts weren’t there. He nodded and continued.

He listened…tried to listen instead, to what Sean was saying about default emotions. And it made some sense. Anger was the one that he automatically snapped to in most situations, completely bypassing a range of other possible emotions. Even now throughout this conversation, it was what he felt most, more than anything else. He opened his mouth to say something…and shut it again as the doctor went on. Right….make it something else…how the fuck was he supposed to do that?

His heart was sinking again at the thought of being here a year from now, having made no progress at all. It terrified him. “I don’t want that…” he said with a small shake of his head, a new set of tears now falling. Dammit…he’d just gotten rid of the old ones and now…. “I don’t want to be here….still like this…” Exactly the same and unmoving. “I don’t want to be here…a year from now…” He was sick of being a kid and living under other people’s rules. He’d been doing it for nearly 18 years, and much of it is what fucked him up in the first place…he hated it.

“So….what does that mean, anyway?” This was Oriel trying to be productive. “‘Shift from my default’. Like, I’m s’pposed to…I don’t know, pretend I’m happy when I’m usually pissed and one day I magically will be?” Wasn’t that what he’d been doing all along anyway? Pretending?

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“I know,” Sean said gently. He knew that Oriel wanted to make progress, and he gave him credit for that. The boy had dutifully conducted his anger management exercises, and he attended these sessions. Sometimes he grew resistant, but working with him felt less like pulling teeth than with Jesse Adams, and that went a long way. “That’s why you need to look at this like control instead of destruction. You can’t destroy anger, and making the inability to do that a personal failure will just feed into the same cycle making you even angrier.”

The psychiatrist then gave Oriel a look, not angry, not reproachful, but to inform the boy that he should know better. “When have I ever suggested that you pretend to be happy?” Not a single workbook exercise contained that tip, not a single worthwhile book would suggest that. Pretending to be happy masked one’s true emotional state, impeded progress, and inhibited maturity. “There’s a wide spectrum of emotions beyond happiness and anger.” Failure to acknowledge that, becoming bogged down in binary thinking, contributed to the problem.

Picking up a pen, he began to sketch out a chart that he thought might help. “Our brains like patterns and familiarity, which means that everything we do reinforces some pattern in our brain. Getting angry and acting on that makes it easier to do the next time until it becomes second nature. Scaling that back takes time.”

[Deleted]

Control instead of destruction…. That meant it would never go away, didn’t it….? The thought made him feel heavy under the weight of his own shoulders, and with it, he felt like he couldn’t move anywhere. Despite the doctor’s direction to not see it that way, Oriel couldn’t help thinking that he was being asked to simply give up fighting against it. It was impossible, so don’t waste your energy.

Sadly, there was some truth to that. It was exhausting, having to push it down all the time and try to force himself to not have that emotion. “N….you didn’t…” he muttered, looking down again away from Sean’s gaze. ‘A wide spectrum of emotions.’ No kidding, Oriel wanted to say, listening silently to what sounded to Oriel like exactly the same thing, just in prettier words.

Or maybe not…? Oriel remained silent as his brain tried to process and make sense of the things Dr. Neville was telling him. His expression would have gradually become stern and pensive, his eyebrows knitting forward ever so slightly. Oriel licked his lips when he finally spoke, cautiously. “You’re…..” He hesitated. This sounded so dumb in his head. “You’re talking ‘bout…like….maybe…picking something else….like and emotion already there….to…instead of just getting pissed and punching things right off.” Which Sean was right about, that was his first instinct in most situations. But that was, he was thinking, because of another complication. “I know….I know I got a lot of other sh—stuff…messed up around in there a lot of the time. It’s hard to sort through, sometimes…don’t really want to either….then I just….” It was a lot easier to just focus on the one thing he did recognize and know how to express. “It’s a lot to think about…” he muttered, keeping his eyes off Dr. Neville, too scared that he was just completely off the ball here. Again.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean kept his gaze on Oriel, and, when the boy looked away, found himself facing the top and side of the boy’s head, rather than his eyes. So be it.

He didn’t interrupt. In his experience, sometimes it took Oriel a little bit of time to work through a problem, and he wanted to allow the boy to do that himself to the greatest extent possible. There had been enough confrontation during this session as it was. Finally, Oriel began articulating his interpretation of what the psychiatrist had said, and he was not off base.

“Yes,” Sean confirmed with a nod of approval. “I am. A more productive emotion. Not every productive emotion is positive, but if an emotion motivates us to improve, or to engage in problem-solving, or to engage in reflection rather than lashing out, then it can be productive.”

With that, he slid the drawing he had made across the desk, should Oriel wish to look at it. Nothing special, it underscored the fact that, while gifted in many areas, artistic talent had bypassed him completely. However, it was of neural pathways and tiny representations of emotions and corresponding actions, showing how patterns became reinforced by positive and negative feedback.

“It is a lot to think about.” The psychiatrist had never claimed otherwise. “But part of learning self-control is facing those thoughts and that frustration, even if we’d rather deny it.”

He had had this conversation with Josh as well, although his partner tended not towards anger but self-flagellation, which was also unproductive.

[Deleted]

Oriel could feel Sean’s gaze on him and it made him even more self-conscious for what he was about to say. Oriel had confidence that came in truckloads when it came to messing around and bothering people with incoherent babble, but when it came to saying things that meant something, that made sense, Oriel’s confidence level dropped considerably.

He was expecting Dr. Neville to tell him he was mistaking something again and go into another one of his explanations that made sense to everyone that wasn’t Oriel. But hearing exactly the opposite….Oriel raised his head to look at Sean, his eyes bewildered at having finally gotten something right. It was a small boost for to his confidence, at least, though he had to remind himself that there was probably still some catch that he wasn’t seeing.

Oriel glanced at the diagram and consequently, Sean’s artistic talent. It brought a smile to his lips, albeit a transient one. Oriel sucked at drawing about as much. “What’s….” What would be more productive, he thought, though he had a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer.

He groaned at Sean’s next words. Thinking about all that stuff was frustrating in itself, which probably didn’t help either. Oriel rested his chin in his palm and idly poked at the ink on the page, pushing a tiny ball of it down one of those diagramed pathways. It still seemed hopeless. Not as much as before, but that pile of shit he had to clean up was still miles and miles long from where he was standing, and looking at it all at once was daunting.

He’d grown quiet again, still thinking about this information. Was there a way he could make it go faster? Why was he even going through all this hell again? Because he wanted to be with Phoenix again. Because he didn’t want to be a fucked up piece of shit anymore. It was paralyzing, thinking about some of these things, like how he wouldn’t have even considered getting help like this if Phoenix had never come into his life. He would still be the same feral-like child he was two years ago were it not for him. Oriel continued to fiddle with the drawing, mindlessly. “…….I want Phoenix,” he mumbled. He felt pathetic, whining like a child like that. But Oriel didn’t know what else to say at this point.