My Funny Farm - Chapter 2 – Irritating Pacification – Part 2 of 2

My Funny Farm

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 2 – Irritating Pacification – Part 2 of 2

 

Emily took off Tuesday morning and dragged me to the psychologist’s office once again.  And yes, she made me suck that damn plug in my mouth the entire trip there, and she made good and sure it was still there as I walked from the car to her office, and also while we waited to see the doctor.  And it was still there as she dragged me through the door to talk to the surprised woman.

“I see you followed up on my suggestion of the pacifier,” Doctor Clive said with a smile as we walked in and sat down.

“Yes!  Absolutely,” Emily told her while I was still pulling the damn thing from my mouth so I could reply.

“Not by choice!” I argued.  “Will you please explain to my granddaughter that you didn’t say I had to keep this stupid thing in my mouth all the time.  She’s driving me crazy with it.”

“All the time?” the doctor asked.  “What do you mean by, all the time?”

“I mean…aalll the time!  Twenty-four hours a day.  I even keep finding the stupid thing in my mouth when I wake up to go to the bathroom at night, and I can tell you for a fact that I didn’t put it there when I went to sleep!”

“We know that it’s helping his mental state,” Emily told the doctor.  “So we’ve been doing our best to make sure he keeps sucking on it.”

“How is it helping my mental state if it’s driving me crazy?” I argued.  “You’re all driving me crazy.”

“You just don’t want to give it a chance and try,” Emily told me.

“Give it a chance!  You’re making sure I’ve got too much of a chance.  I can’t stand it!”

“Alright!” the doctor interrupted our argument.  “Enough!”

“Paci!” Emily told me sternly.

Against my better judgement, I stuck the pacifier back in my mouth.

“Craig,” the doctor said.  “Tell me honestly.  Does the pacifier, or your thumb like we were working with last week, help to calm your nerves at all?  Honestly?”

“How can it help if they won’t leave me alone about it?” I told her.  “She even makes me suck on the damn thing while we’re in the car, and even walking from the car into here.  It’s embarrassing!  How can that help calm my nerves?”

“I understand what you’re saying,” the doctor said, “but that’s not the question I asked.  I just want to know if sucking on something like the pacifier or your thumb seems to still help reduce some of the anxiety that you feel.  Last week I got the impression that it did.”

I stared at her without answering.

“Honestly,” she prompted, paying her full attention on me.

I pulled the plug.  “Maybe,” I agreed.

“Maybe?” she asked.  “What’s that mean?  Does it, or doesn’t it?”

“Okay,” I told her.  “Yes.  A little.  But that’s about it.”

“Good,” she said as if satisfied.

“Good!” Emily echoed.

I gave her a dirty look.

“Craig,” the doctor said.  “Since Emily is here, let’s go back to closing your eyes again like we did last week.  Try to forget she’s there and block out everything but my questions.  Okay?”

That startled me a bit learning that she wasn’t happy that Em was in the way.  “Sure,” I agreed.  I closed my eyes and did my best to imagine that Emily wasn’t sitting right next to me.  Now if only it was true with my eyes open.

“And Emily,” the doctor said.  “No more comments!  These sessions are supposed to be between your grandfather and me.  Not you!  Understand?”

“Yeah,” Emily replied unhappily.  “I get it.”

“Good!  Let me do my job!”

I was hoping that for once Emily would keep her big mouth shut.

“Craig,” the doctor said.  “You just admitted a minute ago that sucking on something does help reduce some of your stress.  Would you mind if we did this like last week?  You suck your thumb between each of your answers and try to feel it pulling the stress and anxiety away each time.  Would you mind doing that for me?”

I opened my eyes, and this time gave the doctor my dirty look.  But I caved in soon after.  “Whatever,” I finally agreed.  I held up the pacifier.  “This, or my thumb?”

“Either one.  Whatever you like,” she told me.  “I just want you to concentrate on something in your mouth that you can suck on.”

I brought my hand up to my mouth to stick my thumb in, but I was holding the darn pacifier with that hand and it was in my way.  I gave in to the inevitable and put the pacifier in again.  I closed my eyes, ready for her to hit me with whatever she wanted me to answer.

“Good Craig,” she said.  “Thankyou.  Now just sit there for a moment with your eyes closed and gently suck on that thing.  Gently suck.  As you suck, feel the sucking begin to drain away all your worries, stress, and anxieties.  Let the pacifier pull them all away from you.  Suck, and feel the peace and calm wash over you.”

She let me do that for a few moments.  Longer than I anticipated.  And in truth, I tried.  I tried my best to imagine that sucking on that damn irritating thing was actually making me feel less bothered by everything.  And…it might have worked…some.  But that’s about all I can say about it.  It helped…some.  But I guess some is better than nothing.

“Okay Craig,” the doctor said softly.  “I’d like to start by following up on a few things you mentioned last week.  Okay?  For one thing, I’d like to know if you still feel the same way about all your responsibilities.  Do you remember talking about that?”

I pulled the plug.  “Yes.”  The plug went back in.

“Good,” she said.  “You said last week that you didn’t really have that many responsibilities in your life anymore, but that you wish you had even less.  Do you still feel that way?”

I had to sit there and think about it.  “Probably,” I told her.  “I mean, yeah, life would be easier if I didn’t have any at all.  But let’s face it, life is responsibility.  One thing on top of another that you’ve got to be…responsible for.  Things you need to take care of.”

“And that was another thing you mentioned last week,” she said.  “You wish you had less to take care of.  In fact, you wished you were in a situation where someone would take complete care of you.”

“Did I say that?” I replied, wondering about that?  “I know we talked about it, but I’m not sure I actually said that.  I think we were discussing the differences between an old person…like me…and, I guess, a baby.”

“Yes,” the doctor replied.  “You’re exactly right.  We did discuss that briefly.  But you’re the one who said you wanted to be put into an old folk’s home where you could be treated exactly like that.”

“Hm!” I grunted before I pulled the pacifier out to talk.  “Maybe I did say that.”

“But what I want to know is, do you still feel the same way?”

I had to consider that before answering.  “Maybe,” I finally told her.  “I mean, my wife is gone.  I’m alone…or…I was alone.  In fact, I was happier being alone.  I didn’t have to worry about anyone else being around or what anyone might think about what I was doing.”

“Like committing suicide?” she asked.

“Maybe,” I replied.

“But how does that relate to you wanting to be in an old folk’s home, when you’re not even close to needing it yet?  You’re too young.  Too healthy.  You don’t need it!  You don’t belong there.”

“That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice to have someone else take care of me for a change,” I told her.

“Someone else take care of you?” she asked.

I sat there for a moment before answering.  “Damn I miss my wife,” I said.

“Yes,” she replied.  “I know.  We’ve established that.”

“Rache and I watched out for each other.  We took good care of each other.  Always.  All our lives.”  I opened my eyes to look at her.  “But you want to know what the truth was?  She took better care of me than I ever did for her.  She cooked for me.  She cleaned the house.  She did my laundry.  She did…everything.  More than me.  I just went to work and earned the money we lived on.  She made our house a home, for me and the kids.  She was…everything to me.  She was probably everything to our two kids too.”

She looked at me for a few moments taking that in.  I finally closed my eyes and put the damn pacifier back in my mouth.  Sucking on it a bit.  Once again trying to feel if it was pulling any of my anxiety away.  It did…a bit.  But not much.

It was a moment before she said anything.  “Life is never easy, is it.”

I shook my head instead of going through all the motions to answer.

“It sounds like your wife took very good care of you.”

“She did,” I replied.

“Do you think she did too much?”

That stopped me.  “I don’t know.  No!  We were happy, remember?”

“But was she?”

I considered that.  “Yes!  It’s what she wanted to do.”

“And you let her do it all for you.”

“Yes.  But is that a bad thing?”

“No, not at all.  You both were happy, right?”

“Yes.  Absolutely.  That’s what we both wanted.”

“Let me ask you,” she said.  “When you went out to dinner, which of you decided where you want to go?”

 I shook my head as I pulled the plug.  “I wanted her to be happy.  I took her wherever she wanted.  Anywhere!”

“So she made the decisions about that.”

“Not always, but usually.  Like I said, I just wanted her to be happy.  I tried to give her everything I possibly could.”

“You loved her,” she said.

“A lot!  More than life.”

“Your life,” she added.

“My life.  My life has been no good since she died.  If you’ll remember, I tried to fix that a few weeks ago.  It would have been better if it had worked.”

“Concentrate on that pacifier in your mouth,” she told me.  “Suck on it and feel it draining your anxiety away.  Feel it bringing calmness and peace back into your life.”

She left me like that for a few moments before she asked, “Which of you do you think was the more dominant one in your relationship, you, or your wife?”

“Dominant?” I asked.  “We weren’t.  Neither of us.  We had a great marriage.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t.  I’m only asking if there was a dominant partner between the two of you.”

“Oh.  No.  I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think, or you never considered it before?”

“I…”  I had to stop to think about it.  “I don’t know.  I never thought about it.  I doubt either of us ever thought about it.  We were…married.  A family.  Husband and wife.  We were…partners.”

“And now you’re alone, and you’re finding it impossible to cope without her.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe!” I admitted.

“So you think you’d find life easier, if you had someone to decide what meals you eat and to fix them for you.  Someone to do your laundry for you and pick out your clothes.  Someone to basically make all the decisions for you and watch over your entire life.”

I pulled the plug and smiled.  “That would be…nice,” I admitted.  “I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

“But life doesn't quite work that way,” she pointed out.

“No,” I agreed.  “But if I had succeeded in killing myself, I wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore, would I.  I would have been better off.”

“But you also would have been dead.”

“So…what!  At least it would be something I wanted.  Peace.  And maybe Rachel would be there when I died to welcome me into her arms again.”

“Gramps!” Emily interrupted.  “Stop it!  Please!”

I knew she wouldn’t be able to stay quiet for long.

The doctor sighed.  “Okay.  Both of you!  Craig, open your eyes if you want.  We’re about done for today.”

I opened my eyes, but I neglected to pull the pacifier from my mouth.

“Tell me,” she said.  “Last week I suggested that maybe you might consider finding something new and different for your life.  Something to help take your mind off of missing your wife.  Have you thought about that at all?”

 I shook my head.  “Not really,” I admitted.

“We did!” Emily told her.  “The entire family talked about it…together.”

“And what did you decide?” the doctor asked.

“We’re working on it,” Emily told her.  “It’s kind of a difficult thing.  There’s so much to consider.”

“Many things often are,” the doctor told her.  “But whatever you’re thinking, it doesn’t have to be anything that drastic.  Just something simple.  Start small maybe.  See if it helps.  Then see if you need to make any changes.”

Emily nodded.  “We’ll get there,” she replied.  She looked at me.  “Soon!  I can’t believe how fixated you still are on killing yourself!”

“Wouldn’t you?” I told her.  “Look how you’re treating me.  You never let me be alone anymore.”

“Yeah.  And you’ve just admitted what you would do if you ever got that chance to be alone.  You’d go and kill yourself…again!  We’re doing everything we possibly can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

I was disgusted and looked away.  I even put the stupid pacifier back in my mouth before I did.

“Maybe,” the doctor said, “you and your family should continue to keep that close watch over him all the time.  And I’ll see you here next week.”