Keep An Open Mind {Lynn Gunn}

7) The Weight In The Words That You Preach

I had never decided to get this vocation or whatever is called. Sometimes I wish I never had it, maybe then I would have had a normal life.

"What's with you instead?" I questioned, purely curious.

"Apparently I've got 'issues related to a scarce rage management'." He replied, putting air quotes in the last part.

Rage issues? Well that explains a lot...

"Therapists said I have an 'Adjustment Disorder With Disturbance Of Conduct', 'Frustration' and a 'Borderline Personality Disorder'... I swear, if there's something that I hate is labels. Why do they have to put labels on everything? That's not fucking human!" he nearly yelled.

Honestly, I felt the same. I've always hated labels... calling a person with a label is like considering them as the illness, instead of someone with an illness. I mean, who even decides that you have actual issues? Who decides what's the right way to think and what is not? That's such an ignorant thought.

"So... you're here to learn how to control your moods?" I questioned, genuinely curious, and he rolled his eyes.

I don't blame him for being distant and seeming rude sometimes, I understand that he feels that way right now. He's trying to fight those manners - which I know for a fact, otherwise he wouldn't do any therapy - and that's what matters to me.

"Actually that's not the main reason why I'm here. Two years ago I went camping with Alex here..." Brian started, pointing at Alex. Wow, that guy was so silent that I nearly forgot he was there.

"...and one night we were coming back to our tents when a paranormal presence appeared in front of us." He explained, then clapped his hands together and gave me a fake smile.

"What did you exactly... see?" I questioned.

"Ghosts. There were ghosts, they were ghosts, I don't have the slightest doubt about that... so we ran away and called for help. Do you know how they reacted? They laughed at us." He continued, giving another humorless laugh.

"Alex has been shocked since then. He hasn't choked out one word ever since, and he's always been afraid of people's judgements over him. They called it 'social anxiety caused by a traumatic experience'." I nodded in understanding.

"Uh how bad is it?" I asked.

"Pretty much, but he's on medication. He does the 'Cognitive Behavioral Therapy'." Brian said, between sighs.

Ah, the same therapy I used to do to fix my 'depression'.

The Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is a mixture of the Cognitive Therapy and the Behavior Therapy. It focuses on the thoughts and feelings that cause a certain mental health condition in the patient and it's based on treatments plans in psychotherapy. Not that it had ever worked with me, I never found a reason to be truly content. How am I supposed to be happy when everyone around me doesn't even cares about what I have to say and treats me like I'm insane?

"Yeah, I know the subject pretty well. Did it help?" I asked. I know I was coming up with many questions, but unlike most of the people in this world I actually cared about what was happened to those guys.

And I think everyone should care about whatever happens to everyone else, not to 'help' their condition or to be sympathetic. Just to listen and understand the others' point of view. There are always to sides of a story, and it's not necessarily one wrong and one right. But obviously, people are too convinced in their own thoughts to actually give a damn about what someone else has to say.

"The therapy has never really worked... I mean, deep in his heart, he's always been shy and awkward and he's always had self-confidence problems, so the 'issue' was developing slowly, but the trauma triggered the matter, setting the bomb into motion." Brian replied, playing with his watch to occupy himself while talking.

Alex had an ashamed expression, so I rubbed his shoulder to reassure him and make him understand that everything was okay. His face lit up a little eventually, as he looked down at his shoes, lacing the strings all over again.

There was a few seconds of silence until Brian spoke up again, catching all my attention.

"About the ghosts... I don't expect you to believe me." He declared, avoiding my eyes.

"I believe you."

"Yeah obviously you don't- wait what?" he seemed very surprised.

"I believe you. Why wouldn't I?" I repeated, shrugging. It's true, I believe him. I know what it feels like to be told you see things that don't exist and it's not nice at all. If my dreams were real, why couldn't ghosts be real as well?

"I uh- I- er..." wow I caught him off guard. I let out a chuckle.

"Does it feel good to have someone that doesn't look at you like you're a freak?" I asked. It sounded playful, but I really wanted a serious answer, because I really did not know what it felt like.

He just furrowed his eyebrows and bit his lip, meditating.

"Tell me about your weird dreams." He asked/demanded. He wasn't being rude or sassy, now, he was just genuinely curious, and I had a feeling we were going to be friends.

I told him and Alex what used to happen in my dreams and they both paid attention to everything I said. I could tell my words had an impact on them. Alex was smiling all the time, picturing images of the mystic world I was describing.

Surprisingly, they believed me. Well, Brian had tiny, light doubts, even though it was unusual given his mental condition - which implies not having doubts about basically anything, most of the times. -

But it was okay, someone finally believed me. I wasn't alone anymore, now I had someone by my side.

This is not just all in your head.