How Green Becomes Wood

Dark and Daizi both knew this wouldn't be a talkative car ride and therefore didn't try to force it. Instead, Daizi put on a bit of music and sat back. When they parked, she reminded Alec this would be a good thing, not a punishment, and then went in with him.
 
The office looked very much like an office. It was clean, well-lit, and comfortable, but also spartan. The only picture on the wall of the small waiting room was of a pastoral landscape. Alec sat nervously on one of the comfortable but minimalistic chairs and wondered if maybe this wasn't a punishment after all.

The door opened and a tall, matronly woman with steel gray suit that matched her tightly drawn back bun perfectly. "Good morning," she greeted them in a quiet, perfectly modulated voice that carried easily through the room. "I am Gladys Hepburn. I believe you are the Wahid-Dark family?" She did not offer a hand to shake.

Alec shrank back slightly, feeling very much as though he were in trouble at school.
 
"Hello," Dark said, standing up also to greet her, not offering a hand because she did not, "Yes, we are the Wahid-Darks, this is Alec."

"I'm Daizi, it's lovely to meet you," Daizi said, extending her hand for a handshake, not realizing that was not the energy Dr. Hepburn was displaying.
 
Because Daizi had offered her hand, Dr. Hepburn stepped forward and accepted the handshake briefly and professionally. "It is nice to meet you both." She stepped back and gestured to the open door. "Shall we, Mr. Wahid-Dark?"

Alec glanced at his parents briefly, hoping for a last-minute salvation, and then followed her into the other room, feeling doomed. How could someone this... cold be a good therapist?
 
The office was not quite as spartan as the waiting room, but close. The theme in here was a light, blue-grey color from walls to ceiling and even the sound-dampening carpet. Oddly, one entire wall was made up of built-ins with flat, handle-less doors. There was a small, plain black desk in the back corner near the window, and a couch in the center of the room with a chair opposite it. A circular rug with a pale grey and black abstract design created an area with the couch and the rug. A couple of lights in the corners created an ambient light in the room, enough to see clearly and cut down on shadows, but not enough to feel under a spotlight.

"Please, sit," Dr. Hemburn said, indicating the couch. She sat in the chair and tucked her feet under her chair, crossed neatly at the ankle, and picked up a clipboard from the tiny side table next to her. "Tell me, what is something you desire to get out of this meeting?"

Alec approached the couch cautiously and sat down. It looked like a concrete block on thin legs, but it was surprisingly soft and comfortable. "Well, um, I am not sure. Am I allowed to say that?"

"You are allowed to say whatever you wish in this space," she said calmly.

"Okay," Alec nodded, "then I am not really certain what I want out of this... or what I am doing here."

"Your parents have mentioned that you have been having some problems at home and school," she remarked.

"It's not that big of a problem. Well, it wasn't. I don't want to talk about that," Alec said, shaking his head.

"You do not have to if you do not wish to, but perhaps you would like to tell your side of things," she invited.

Alec shook his head. "No, no thanks, I'm good." He nodded a few times and sat in silence.

A clock ticked on the wall. It was barely noticeable at first, but as the silence stretched on, the ticking of the clock grew louder and louder. Dr. Hempburn said nothing. She sat completely still, barely even blinking, watching Alec with an unreadable expression, her pen resting lightly in her hand, her hand resting on her clipboard. Alec fidgetted, biting his tongue.
 
During the session, Dark and Daizi sat quietly in the waiting room. They talked a little bit in quiet whispers, but the atmosphere of the place didn't encourage much conversation. When Daizi questioned if they had picked the right place after all, Dark suggested someone less... willing to coddle Alec, for lack of a better word, may be more beneficial. All they could do was wait.
 
It was the silence. The silence did the trick. The other therapist or other people tended to attempt to gently prompt him, but this therapist did nothing, said nothing, gave him nothing. He wasn't even entirely certain she was breathing. Gradually, he started talking to fill the silence, watching her nervously. She made the occasional note, but otherwise gave him no indication of what she thought of what he said. Eventually, the words started coming more easily.

"... Which is when Xander drops his giant secret on me," Alec said as he paced in front of the couch, "that he wants to be religious or something. Religious! Which is something he always agreed with me we wouldn't get into, and he has the gall to be upset with me that I had a girlfriend? It hardly seems fair! But then he moved out of our room and says he'd rather sleep in the basement, and we-" He stopped suddenly and bit his lip as tears suddenly stung his eyes, bringing his frustrated tirade to a halt. "We've never not shared a room," he admitted. He looked down and fidgeted lightly with his own fingers. "We only just started doing things apart, and now... now we're so far apart. I hate it."

"Do you feel perhaps you are responsible for how far apart you two have grown?" Dr. Hemburn asked, making him jump a little.

"No, of course not!" Alec snapped, outraged at the idea. "It's not my fault that... that..." He hesitated. Then he sat down and looked at her. "Is it my fault?"

"Fault and responsibility are not necessarily the same things," she said calmly. "All actions have consequences. Some are small, some are large, some are positive, and some are negative. When we do an action, we must be willing to take responsibility for the consequences that are to come, good and bad. What actions do you think you may have taken that have led Xander to moving out? None of the rest of it, just that."

Alec looked down at his hands and pulled at his own fingers. "I don't know..." he mumbled.

"I think you do," she replied, her tone still calm and even. "You do not need to tell me, but I want you to think for a moment."

Alec took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "He says I don't take his needs into consideration," he finally admitted.

"Do you?"

"I... I thought I did. I just wanted him... everyone... I need them to be happy," Alec said quietly.

"Need?" Dr. Hepburn repeated.

"Wanted," Alec said, ears reddening. "I meant wanted."

"I don't think you did," Dr. Hepburn remarked. "Tell me, why is it you need those around you to be happy?"

Alec frowned. "Isn't it normal to want people to be happy? Those you care about?"

"Want, yes, but to need it can be dangerous. So. Let's talk about your family members one at a time. Why do you need your mother to be happy."

Alec flinched, and she raised a brow briefly before her stoicism returned.
 
Hoping Dark was right, Daizi sighted softly and leaned in, wrapping both of her arms around one of his and resting her head on his shoulder. She hated chairs with arms, they prevented her from getting as close to him as she'd like to. Dark breathed easily, in a way being himself too depressed to worry about this particular appointment. If it didn't work, they had other names on the list. One would eventually.
 
"Our Mum, my mother," Alec said slowly, hunched over in his seat, "before Daizi... she... she struggled a lot. I guess she was depressed, looking back, maybe, but it didn't usually look like it, I don't think. But she had us, my brother and me, and so much stress. She worked so hard, usually for not much pay, and a lot of people took advantage of her because they knew they could. She didn't have any kind of degree, I don't even know if she actually graduated high school, so she couldn't get a good paying job, just whatever she could find, and she couldn't afford to say no to extra shifts, extra hours, or anything, even if they didn't pay her for it, and she struggled to keep those jobs. I don't know why. Maybe her temper? I don't know. We didn't talk about it. And her boyfriends." He snorted disparingly. "Always a new guys, always looking for ones that could 'support' us. Only a couple were even passingly good guys. The rest were all..." He shrugged awkwardly, not wanting to say the word.

"Still, she wouldn't complain. Hardly ever cried. She just got on with things, but sometimes, sometimes it would just get to be too much. She'd lose a boyfriend and a job close together, we'd get evicted from an apartment, and then she'd... she'd got to her bed and lay down, and sometimes we couldn't get her to get up or eat or anything for days. She'd get so sad." He paused and swallowed. "So sad. But when she was happy, it was okay. Most of the time, she was happy, or, at least, pretended she was happy. When she was happy, it was okay. When Xander was happy, he could help and wouldn't get in trouble. When the family was happy... then we'd be okay. At least for a while. Xander's not natually a happy person. Mum tried to be.

"But I could be. I wasn't much good at much else. I wasn't as strong or assertive as Xander, but I could be happy. If I could be happy, if I could help those around me be happy, then we'd be okay. We'd find food. We'd find the money to pay rent. We'd find a way to make camping in an abandoned house fun. It was okay as long as we were happy." His voice wobbled. "So, I have to help them be happy. I need to be happy. If I'm happy, I can help them be happy. And if we're happy, bad things can't happen to us. But... it's so tiring to be happy all the time. Other people, they think I wan't them to be sparkly, and I hate when they say that! I don't need sparkly. Not all happy needs to look like my happy. I just need them to be not-sad. I try and try to explain that, but all they do is tell me that they 'can't be sparkly.' I don't need sparkly! I just need... not black. As long as they aren't black, it'll be okay." He stopped talking for a moment, fighting to keep himself from crying.

Dr. Hepburn stood and walked to one of the cupboards. Alec didn't watch her, but he could hear her open and then shut the door. Then a giant, fluffy, plush unicorn appeared in his line of sight. He looked up at her in shock.

"Well done on speaking about this," she told him, her expression still cool, but her tone warm. "We have ten minutes left. You may hug this until the end, if you desire."

How did she know he needed a ridiculous plushie? He chose not to question it and wrapped his arms around the unicorn, burying his face in the fur. It was so soft! And smelled faintly of lavender.

Dr. Hepburn gave him a few moments of quiet as she returned to her seat and made a few notes. "You do not like being called 'sparkly,'" she finally continued. "Who are some of these people who refer to it as being sparkly?"

"My father, for one," Alec replied, his voice muffled. "I accused him of lying because he says he can't be happy but then says he's happy at certain times."

She inclined her head. "I can understand how that would be confusing. Have you ever asked him to define his words for you?" At his confused look, she clarified, "Perhaps you two are not discussing the same idea."

Alec lifted his head. "But... happy is happy. How can it mean anything else?"

"You might be surprised," she replied.

They spoke a little more for the remaining minutes, and at the end, she asked him to put the plush in a specific cupboard. He did so, noticing a few other items in the cupboard. She escorted him to the waiting room, and he walked in tiredly, feeling drained and not realizing his makeup was somewhat smudged from trying not to cry and shoving his face against a plush unicorn.

"Mr. and Mrs. Wahid-Dark, may I speak with you a moment?" she asked them.

Alec slumped into a seat without looking at either of them.
 
"Of course," Daizi replied, standing with Dark. Although most of the time they'd correct titles and un-hyphenate their names, this wasn't a scenario where it seemed beneficial.

"Where would you like us to sit?" Dark asked as they entered the room. He looked at Alec for a moment sympathetically with one hand on Daizi's back to help guide her.
 
"This way, please," she said and led the way back into her office, leaving Alec sitting in the waiting room. She indicated the couch. "Will that suffice for you?" She resumed her seat in her chair and picked up her clipboard.
 
"Yes, of course," Dark replied, first helping Daizi to find the couch and sit before he sat down beside her. As always and without thinking about it, they held hands.

"What would you like to speak to us about?" Daizi asked.
 
"To start with, I want you to understand that one visit is not enough to fully establish anything," she said, checking some of her notes, "but I would say- Oh, I apologize. I see here I should have been referring to you as Dr. Wahid. I apologize. As I was saying, I believe this first visit has given me a lot of optimism concerning moving forward with Alec. I think we will make a good fit, though I imagine he will not have a particularly glowing review of me. I do ask that you give me two more sessions before deciding whether or not to continue.

"On the subject of future sessions, I would very much like to see him again in a week's time to build off of what we began here and see him rather frequently just for the first few sessions before stretching them out to something more like once a month. I understand that can be rather difficult on the budget, so I would like to offer one of the next two sessions for free, and if we agree to continue working together, we can talk about some sort of payment reduction or similar plan. How does that sound to you thus far?"
 
"We understand it can take some time," Daizi assured her, "Dark and I both have been in therapy for most of our lives at this point, so we both are familiar with the trial and error it can take." Then, when free session was offered, Dark began to say something but Daizi gently put her other hand on his arm, "I think that plan would be beneficial, and we're certainly grateful for the offer." It was the sort of thing Dark liked to be too proud to accept, but weekly therapy was expensive and they were only working off a single income. They weren't in desperate need of money, but especially since she had gone no-contact with her father and didn't have the same access to his help as before, she wasn't about to be too proud to accept the offer.

Dark looked at her for a moment and then nodded politely to Dr. Hepburn, "It is very generous, thank you."
 
She gave a nod in return to Dark. "Now, as for Alec... I am seeing signs of low-to-moderate ADHD. There are medications, however, with something that, at this point, does not appear to be severe, I would highly recommend trying a few homeopathic and holistic routes, first, such as lavender oils, zinc, and creating some schedules and focus tools for him, things to help calm the mind and focus his attention on singular things. I can give you some pamphlets and suggestions on where to start if you would like to try that path. I am under the understanding that he has multiple projects constantly at any one time. I would suggest that you help him choose one or two projects, no more than two, and help guide him toward completing them rather than having multiple unfinished projects at any given time. I would not suggest getting rid of anything at this point or discontinuing any classes he has, but if possible, try to find a way to contain his projects in a way that will not cause him further anxiety but make it difficult to easily pull out a project he is not supposed to be working on. I suggest clear plastic bins he can keep in his room and encourage him to take part in organizing and taking control of putting things away. It might be a difficult thing to face for him, and if he pushes back too hard or seems too panicked, it is something that can wait until he is ready. You might consider trying over the course of multiple days.

"Finally, I would like to address a concern you mentioned about his eating issues. I would like to encourage you to take a more hands-on approach here, but not be too aggressive. This sort of disorder is not healthy, but eating can be a very intimate thing with how we chose to or not to put things in our bodies. Instead of allowing him to dish his own portions, I would encourage you to plate it for him, and only put on a very small amount to begin with. That will help ease some of the anxiety of first getting the right amount, and then trying to clean everything off his plate. Having a small amount will help ease the pressure to eat and make it easier to get started. Once he has gotten started, it will be easier to continue eating and reach a healthier amount.

"Do you have any questions at this point? Does this seem like something you can handle?"
 
Dark and Daizi both shifted on the couch more from anxiety than discomfort. There was a lot to address there. "Pamphlets would be useful," Dark said eventually, speaking first, "But I worry, because whenever I do suggest helping him with organization or time management, he always shuts down the offer. I do not know how to help him in a way which he finds helpful while still making sure he is helped. And trying to get him agree to fewer projects..."

"He keeps repeating to both of us he wants to do things his way, that he is in control, and that he knows what he is doing," Daizi explained, "and I don't, we don't, really think that's... true. It's a mess, I don't always feel... comfortable walking in there, anymore? It's not that bad--I mean, it is that bad, it's enough to be concerning--but he's honest when he says keeps paths to everything open, but the shape of that path doesn't always look the same, if that makes sense? So for Ghalib, and for Alec, and for his brother, there is still ease of movement, but it's more anxiety inducing for me to navigate, and all of that is to say he doesn't have it under control and his way is not working, but trying to get him to recognize that and accept help isn't easy. And of course, that's why we're bringing him here, and of course it's all a process, I'm certain you don't expect us to go home and immediately turn everything around and get him organized. It's just... daunting." She swallowed and this time shifted a bit uncomfortably, wondering if she had immediately shared too much too quickly. After all, it wasn't her therapy session. "The lavender oil, that's easy, though. Our home is full of essential oils. Just the other night I sent him to bed with lavender beneath his pillow."

"I also have questions about your food suggestion, but I do not wish to overwhelm you by asking them all at once."
 
Dr. Hepburn did not say anything immediately, taking in their concerns and considering them carefully. When she was ready, she said, "One thing I was able to garner from this session is that much of his decision-making stems from fear. Now, I have not yet been able to uncover the source of that fear - that will likely take time - but I want you to know that it is not from you. He feels safe with you, both of you, which is part of why he is acting out. He feels safe enough to act out, but I sense that he does not yet fully understand his boundaries. I would like to encourage you to be firmer with him. Not too firm, for that will cause him to retreat, but he is your son. You will know when something is too firm or not firm enough. You say he shuts down all offers to help him organize, so I would like to suggest that instead of making offers of help, state an expected goal. Something easily achievable while making yourself available to help him. For example, you, Dr. Wahid, might share with him that you would like to enter his room, but doing so fills you with anxiety. Therefore, you need him to make more floor space clear. Give him a timeline in which you would like to see this done. Give him a bit of time to see if he will come up with his own solutions, and if he does not, then suggest some. If you turn this to being an aid for you rather than something for him, I believe he will be more receptive. Mr. Dark, I believe what you are saying is help coming from you, especially seems to be a tender spot? That can often be the case with young boys, particularly if they idolize their fathers.

"Before we get into that, what questions do you have for me concerning food?"
 
"That is a good idea, thank you," Daizi nodded, knowing it was something they were able to do, but still feeling anxious about it. Alec took things so hard, and he had already put his father through a week of the silent treatment.

Slightly gritting his teeth for a moment but relaxing before he spoke, never once looking away from Dr. Hepburn, Dark said, "I do not know if that is why, but yes. He finds my advice difficult. About the food, though, do you have recommendations on how to broach the subject so he does not feel... like we are treating him the way we treat his thirteen-month-old sister? Obviously it is something we would speak to him about before hand, rather than just handing him his made plate without warning, but doing it at the same time as when we hand the baby her dinner may seem infantilizing, and that is only barely not literal."
 
"My immediate suggestion is to not make a production about it," she replied. "It is tempting talk about these types of things and have discussions, but I think that it might be better to simply do it and not discuss it unless he asks. If you are concerned about infantilizing him, which is a very valid concern, I would suggest also plating up for his brother and possibly for each other, if you can. Make if very casual and calm. If you choose to talk about it beforehand, which I will leave up to your discretion, try to still keep it as casual as possible. Try to stick to the facts. 'We see you struggle with eating right now, and while you are fully capable of making your own choices, we want to aid you in this as it is extremely important for your wellbeing.' Make it clear that there are no punishments for not eating, but try to find some sort of small reward, again, keeping it casual, for eating his meals even if they are unfinished. Does this sound like something that might work for you?"
 
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