You're Not Alone

The Lunch Conversation

Danny sighed as he and Linda waited outside the restaurant for Brie. He didn't know what to expect; when Linda was in college, he was oversees. When he came back for R&R, he saw her as much as possible- which wasn't as much as he would've liked. He barely remembered Brie; was she funny? Serious? Blonde? Brunette? She'd have to be smart in order to get into nursing- even Danny knew that nursing had a tough road. "What's Brie like again?"
"A lot like me."
"Oh. Then I like her already."
Linda laughed as he put his arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek. "Brie's crazier than me, though. She's super fun, too."
"Linda!" Brie waved to her friend, smiling widely.
"Brie!" Linda hugged her friend, then pulled back. "Brie, you remember Danny? My husband."
"Hi," she waved, smiling widely.
"Hi." Danny smiled politely. He wasn't expecting that much energy to radiate off one person.
"Let's go grab a table!" Brie linked arms with Linda, who grabbed Danny's hand.
***********
"Linda tells me that you've got PTSD," Brie stated, salting her potatoes.
"Yeah." Danny nodded, suddenly wishing he hadn't agreed to the meeting. He didn't want to talk to Brie. He didn't want to talk to Dr. Crane. He didn't even want to talk to Linda. No one needed to be burden with his problem. He could deal with it anyway he wanted; he was an adult,after all.
"And that's it? No night terrors? Parasomnia? Nightmares? Flashbacks?" Brie rambled off, studying her "patient".
"A little."
"A little?" She took a sip of her soda, "a little what? All of the above?"
"What.... what's parasomnia? And night terrors?" Danny hadn't really heard of those things.
"I told you that, honey," Linda put a hand on his arm. "Parasomnia is a group of sleeping disorders. Technically, all the things Brie mentioned 'Cept flashbacks are classified under parasomnia. Night terrors are episodes of screaming, intense fear, and flailing while still asleep, usually paired with sleepwalking. Not always. And the person experiencing them doesn't remember it. They can't be self-diagnosed..... but I think you have them." Linda didn't dare tell him that kids usually experienced the night terrors.
"Oh." He nodded, suddenly upset with his mental health state.
"Don't worry," Brie dismissed the worry with a flick of her wrist. "Night Tetris are easily remedied. Locking doors and windows, meditating before bed, taking a shower before hand. Whatever calms down the anxiety is going to help."
"No alcohol," Linda warned. "That's a crutch. A bad crutch. It won't help in the long run."
Danny nodded, "and the other stuff? How does that go away?"
"The flashbacks I'm pretty sure never really go away. But there's a ton of coping mechanism and shit like that," Brie's voice was calming, yet somehow hyper. "I'm thinking you've got anxiety, maybe depression. In which case they'll prescribe a pill for you to take."
"Re-"
"If you say Reagans don't do pills, I'll kill you," Linda held her pointer finger up.
"What? Why not? What if you're dying? Or you can't function properly without the pill? Like how Linda needs birth control and I need those ADD pills." Brie furrowed her brow.
"I don't get it either, and it's not birth control! For the last time. I'm not using it to control birth. It's just hormones," Linda was getting tired of explaining that to everyone.
"Listen, Danny. It's really no big deal. Think- think of it as a vitamin pill. You're.... low on vitamin D. So you take extra. That's literally what pills do. You're low on something like estrogen, and the pill corrects that. And you're a freakin' marine! And a cop! Plus, you've got the greatest nurse as a wife! Use her to your advantages." Brie let her hands collide with the table. "Until you trust yourself, let her dish out the pills..... you're not suicidal, are you?"
Danny looked up and shook his head. He didn't need Linda to know the thought had crossed his mind numerous times. He didn't need her to dispense the stupid pills. He didn't need her to have to calm him down after his hellish nightmares. He didn't need her to constantly worry about him. "I'm fine."