The psychiatrist

Trigger warning: Suicide, Losing a loved-one

“Joe...”, it alluringly whispered in his ear, “Joe...wake up Joe”.

Joe felt blood rushing to his head, heart pounding in his chest, pearls of sweat forming on his forehead. He woke up in trepidation. He must have had this nightmare again. A nightmare that had been haunting him every night now for 10 consecutive days.

It was autumn. The rain was plastering against the window and the wind howling through the trees. The day that lied upon him was pressing on his chest. He dragged himself out of the bed and to the bathroom. He was going to meet his new patient today. He brushed his teeth and trimmed his beard to mimic the designer stubble. Sarah always loved that look. But now Sarah could hardly spare a glance at him. It had been like that for a while. There has never been a fight. No escalation. Not even a discussion that could have caused this barrier between them. Just indifference. Emptiness. Remains of something they once had, slowly fading away.

“Good morning” Joe murmured as he entered the kitchen where Sarah was sitting and slurping her coffee. There was no answer. Sarah was holding the steaming cup to her lip, but wasn’t drinking. She was just staring out into nothingness. Her eyes were filled with sadness, with longing, with resignation.

“Sarah? Good morning!” Joe repeated nervously, fearing that they have reached a new low-point. 

“Morning”, Sarah sighed, not taking her eyes off the dark nothingness she was staring into.

Joe was disappointed. And scared. He filled a cup with coffee and turned around. On his way out he paused and tried again: “Sarah, I will go to the hospital now. I will receive a new patient today. I love you.”

“Ok”, Sarah sighed again, slowly lowering her cup and not deigning a look at Joe.

Heart-brokenly Joe stepped outside the door and was shortly caught by a gust of wind. He zipped his jacket up to his chin and crunched his shoulders, shivering. The brown and yellow leaves were carried by the wind, spreading across the pavement. An eeri feeling came over him Something felt awkward about this day.

When he arrived at the hospital, he immediately rushed to his office. He was already late for his 9:00 appointment. When he entered the room, a caretaker was already waiting there holding the handle of a wheelchair. The man in the wheelchair was facing Joe with his back. His head was lowered.

“Thank you, Denise. I got it from here!”

Joe walked around a table and took a seat on a chair across from the man in the wheelchair. He took the notepad that was provided for him and took a quick glance at it. The ceiling lights in the room were uncomfortably bright and Joe had to squint his eyes to peek at the clock on the wall. 10^th of November, 9:10 o’clock, he wrote down on the left upper corner of the sheet.

“So, Marc. I see here that you were hospitalized three weeks ago with severe trauma to your back and head. You were found unconscious, lying in the rain by a house complex on Reagan street. Unfortunately, we were not able to get in contact with any family members of yours nor could we identify your residency. It also says here that you haven’t said a much since you woke up from a coma 10 days ago. Can you maybe tell me what happened that night?” Joe looked at Marc with expectation.

Marc pressed his lips together and turned his head to the side to evade Joe’s eye contact.

“Marc. This is a safe place and I only want to find out what happened to you, so that I can help you. You have done nothing wrong.”

“Pah!” Marc mumbled sarcastically. Still avoiding to look at Joe.

Joe tried to study Marc. Tried to analyze his movements, his tone. Something was familiar about him.

“Marc, please let me help you. The sooner we find out what happened to you, the sooner we can release you. We can’t do that with a good conscience without knowing whether you were subject to a crime or accident.”

“Fine”, Marc sighed with an annoyed tone. He paused for a moment. Then he started to talk: “I…I…”, Marcs hands began to shake, his voice started trembling, “I…I…I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I have to leave.”

“Marc, please. Try to calm down”, Joe intervened, “Follow me. Take a deep breath for 1…2…3…4, now hold and breathe out for 1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8. Now repeat. Are you feeling a bit better?” Joe was waiting with expectation but Marc just closed his eyes and lowered his head again.

“Okay, let’s maybe start with some more general questions. How old are you, Marc?”

“37” Marc answered with indifference in his voice.

Interesting, Joe thought while he was making notes. Marc was younger than him, but he seemed so much older. This was most likely the result of his injuries and the coma, but there was something beyond that. It was his eyes. Joe could literally feel the sadness and tragedy screaming at him through Marc’s grey and weary eyes. What had happened to him?

“Can you tell me what you do for a living Marc?”

“I…I’m a physicist.”, Marc harrumphed, “I used to teach physics at the university. Until…” Marc’s voice started shaking.

“That is an intriguing profession, Marc” Joe acknowledged excited. He himself was a physics enthusiast. Especially astrophysics fascinated him. “My little Einstein”, Sarah often called him with a whimsical smile when he was going on about some new galaxy that was discovered millions of light years away. Joe would have loved to study physics, but he came from a family of doctors and from childhood on this was the only accepted path for him. He eventually decided to specialize in psychiatry, to study the mind. The mind to him was like a universe itself. Mostly undiscovered, mesmerizing depths, infinite and full of secrets to be explored. This way he could still follow his dream in some kind of way.

>Tick, Tock<

Joe was pulled out of his thoughts. The clock was ticking strangely loud and the lights were blinding him. He needed a moment to adapt his eyes again and focus on the hands of the clock. It showed 9:10. That was strange. Still? He must have written down the wrong time in the beginning. “I’m just tired”, he admitted to himself.

“Okay, Marc. Can you tell me about your family or friends? Are you married? Perhaps have children?”

Marc pressed his lips together. He stared into Joe’s eyes with a touch of helplessness and anger. He clenched his teeth. His hands started shaking.

“Please let me go. I can’t do this”, Marc pressed through his teeth with desperation.

“I can’t let you go Marc. Not as long as I don’t know what happened to you.”

“Pah”, Marc said disapprovingly. Now he lifted his head, staring strongly into Joe’s eyes.

“Okay”, he said, “You want to know what happened? I tried to kill myself, okay?!”

Silence filled the room. The dazzling light was stinging in Joe's eyes.

Joe tried to focus on Marc again, cleared his throat and said with his trained professionalism: “I’m very sorry to hear this, Marc. I need to ask you now. Are you still entertaining the thought of ending your life?”

After a pause Marc sighed and shrugged his shoulders: “I…I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to live anymore. At least, I think I can’t do this anymore. I can’t go on with life anymore. Not like this.”

“Is there a particular reason you feel like you can’t live anymore?”

“Guilt. I can’t bare this guilt anymore.”

“What do you mean Marc? What happened?” Joe asked curiously.

“I…I…”, Marc paused. A clump built up in his throat. His eyes began to fill with tears.

“I..”, he tried again, “I did something”.

“You did something that makes you feel like you can’t live anymore, Marc? Can you tell me what you did? Did you hurt someone?”

“Yes”, said Marc with a whimpering voice.

“Can you tell me who you hurt, Marc? Was it someone you know?”

“I can’t. Please. Don’t do this to me!” Marc begged.

Joe felt the desperation. The determination. Even though he barely knew anything about Marc, he could on some level sense Marc’s pain. This unbearable pain. He must have hurt someone he loved.

Joe tried to concentrate. He took another glance at the clock. 9:10. What? That can’t be. The clock must be broken. But the ticking…Joe shook his head in imagination, annoyed by the broken clock. He took a deep breath and asked in a calm voice: “Are you married, Marc? Do you have a wife?”

“Yes” Marc replied and lowered his head again.

“Was it your wife, you hurt, Marc?”

Joe could see Marc’s nostrils fluttering, his hands clenching to fists.

“No. I mean. Yes, I did. But that’s not…I’m sorry, I can’t!”

“Okay, Marc. You don’t have to tell me yet. Could you maybe tell me a little about your wife? How long have you been married?”

“8 years” Marc replied in anguish.

8 years, Joe thought. Him and Sarah have been married for almost 8 years. They used to be so happy. What has happened to them? They met at a rooftop party during university when he was 25. He was studying medicine and she just started her major in art history. Joe immediately noticed her mesmerizing smile. Her sparkling eyes when she was laughing. Her upper teeth that were ever so slightly too big for her mouth. But in a beautiful way. She was able to infect anyone around her when she was laughing. And she was funny. Oh, how funny and cute she was. Now they are not laughing together anymore. They barely talk… They quickly became a couple after they met. Oh, how much they were in love. When they were 29, Joe proposed to her back on the roof of the factory building where they had met 4 years earlier. They were young but determined that they would never want to spend their lives apart. They could not imagine not to be with one another. They belonged together. Like a spell was cast on them. But something broke that spell. Joe can’t remember what it was. What had happened? Joe suddenly felt confused. He really could not point the finger on it. When did they stop being happy? What has happened? Joe had a strange feeling. Something wasn’t right. Shivers overcame his body, but he quickly shook it off. He had to close his eyes for a moment and massaged the skin between his eyes. Trying to concentrate. These lights were just so damn bright.

>Tick. Tock.<

“8 years”, Joe repeated, “And do you have children?”

Marc’s breath seemed to stagnate. He swallowed heavily. He opened his mouth to speak but then retreated again.

“I…we…we have…we had a daughter.”

Joe’s heart seemed to stop for a moment. A suffocating tightness rose up his throat.

“A daughter”, he thought to himself, “A daughter.” This daunting feeling again. The garish lights. The ticking of the clock. Something was wrong. He started sweating. His heart was heavily pounding in his chest. A panic attack? Not now! Not in front of my patient. Joe tried to calm himself. He focused on his breathing and managed to fend it off. For now.

“You used to have a daughter? What happened to your daughter, Marc?” Joe asked with nervous anticipation.

Marc suddenly buried his face in his hands and started sobbing massively.

“I…I…killed her…I mean…I’m responsible for her death. It´s my fault that my daughter is dead!”

“Marc, I’m so sorry you lost your daughter. You have my deepest sympathy. But you have to explain to me what you mean with being responsible for your daughter’s death. Can you please tell me what happened?”

“We had an accident. It was a year ago. When I was taking her to kinder garden. I…I…it was my fault…I can’t…I can’t talk about it!”

There was this tension in Joe’s chest again. His vision got blurry, the air seemed to vibrate. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He told himself, that everything is fine. He is just tired, exhausted. The situation with Sarah and this job. It is just asking too much of him at the moment. He opened his eyes again and regained his calm.

“Take your time Marc. This is a safe place. I only want to help you! Tell me, do you and your wife ever talk about it? Is she aware of the amount of guilt you’re carrying?”

Marc took a deep breath. Trying to regain his voice. “We don’t really talk anymore. I think she knows as well as I do that it is my fault. I should have protected her. It should have been me. Not her. She had her whole life ahead of her. My wife doesn’t say it, but she never forgave me for it. She will never forgive me for taking her daughter. Taking our life.”

“I understand how much pain you and your wife must endure.” Joe could strangely well relate to this terrifying emptiness. “It was an accident. As terrible as it is. It was an accident and it is nobody’s fault. You never wanted to hurt her.”

“But it was my fault”, Marc cried. “I was driving her to kinder garden. I was so tired. The semester had just started and I was busy with preparations. I was late. She was excited, telling me what they are going to do today at kinder garden, but I was just so tired and couldn’t focus. I was late. Just looking at the clock and at the road, back and forth. I had an important lecture at 9:15 and was already late. I was tired and I was late and only had 5 minutes left before the lecture. I didn’t see the truck coming at the crossing. I should have stopped. It came from the right. It directly hit the side where my daughter was sitting. It smashed into her. She…she was dead immediately.” Marc was sobbing heavily. Joe could barely understand what he was saying.

Pictures were emerging in Joe’s head. A car. A country song on the radio. A dad and his daughter driving on the road. And a truck, a truck out of nowhere, smashing into the car, throwing it off the road. This hammering noise. This deadly noise. Squeezing walls. And blood…Joe overcame shivers again. He was sensitive today. This patient’s story got to him. His heart was racing. This felt strange. He took a deep breath.

Joe had to hold his hand over his eyes to be able to look at Marc, because the lights were blinding him. He tried to focus and to respond with a soothing voice: “You and your wife, Marc. You have both lost your child. You are grieving and it is probably hard for your wife to talk to you, even look at you, because you constantly remind her of your daughter. Of the accident. Of what she has lost. But you have both lost a child. You are both in pain. You need to be there for each other. If you take your own life because you can’t bare the feelings of guilt, the grieve, then you take the only person from your wife that reminds her of her daughter. The only person that knows how much pain she is in. You need to stay alive. For her.”

Suddenly the lights got even brighter. Joe could barely see anything anymore. He couldn’t breathe. He felt like the moment before you’re pulled out of a dream. He felt like the room around him was disintegrating. Marc’s silhouette seemed to fade. And suddenly, with one stroke, realization overflew Joe like a wave. A harrowing truth was tearing him apart.

This was it. This is what happened. This is why Sarah can’t look at him. Can’t even stand his voice. This is why her once sparkling eyes are now filled with desolation. Joe took her life from her. Joe took her daughter. Their daughter…This is why he jumped. He couldn’t stand this torment anymore.

…

“Joe”, the enticing whisper again, “Joe, please wake up, Joe”.

…

Joe slowly opened his eyes. He was blinded by the bright lights on the ceiling of the hospital room. As his eyes slowly adjusted to brightness in the room, he recognized Sarah standing next to him and holding his hand. “Joe”, she said with a soft, whimpering voice, “you are awake. Finally. Joe, I was so scared. I can’t lose you too.”

Joe was dizzy, his head was pounding and his throat was sore. He took all his strength to focus on Sarah’s tears filled eyes. He took a deep breath and whispered: “I’m sorry. Please, forgive me”.