Sessions: A Transcendence Short

Blythe Office

New York

United States of America

September 2113

“I’m actually happy that you decided to come back,” the older figure admitted. Ansel could barely meet the psychiatrist’s eyes, only nodding silently in agreement. “Really, Ansel. Not too many patients decide to come back for a second go; they tend to feel that it’s a little too invasive of their privacy, so they’d much rather not continue. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course – it just doesn’t happen as often as I’d like,” he said with a sheepish sort of grin.

“…I figured that it would help me out more,” he answered stiffly. “More than the medications.” Nodding, Ezra reclined and continued looking at him, waiting for him to continue. “The university counselors aren’t too much help. I…thought that seeking a more professional figure would be more beneficial. Towards both of us.”

“You made the right choice.” Ezra pushed closer a small container of gummies; Ansel relented and took a grape-flavored one from the glass case. “Now…do you want to start over, or do you want to tell me how you’ve been lately?”

Ansel hesitated.

“Or,” Ezra offered, “We can go slow again. I can explain what your condition is, get you into the right mindset about it. And then we can begin. Would you like that?”

“What would the purpose be?” he asked carefully.

Ezra hummed, “It’s a grounding procedure, really. When you’re grounded, you’re more aware of yourself and all. You don’t have to doubt yourself. Everything you feel is perfectly justifiable and you have all the right to feel the way you do.” Ansel nodded slowly, “So would you like that?”

He took a deep breath. “…I would like that.” Ezra nodded at that and opened the file on his table, glancing shortly at the very first file. On it was a 2x2 of Ansel looking at the camera as well as all the basic information needed. Full name, birthday, blood type, current occupation (university student), family data, and etcetera. Grey eyes scanning the file, he found what he was looking for and cleared his throat.

Ansel felt himself blank out when his condition was read, only falling back into the present at the sentence after that. “…and based on what you’ve shared, it was heavily persistent in your senior year of high school. Is that correct?”

“…it was.”

“How about college so far?” Ezra asked. “Last I heard, you were pursuing a career in media; film, to be more specific. Is it hard so far?”

“It’s not difficult if it’s something you love,” Ansel replied. He took another gummy bear (orange this time) and popped it into his mouth. “Things…things honestly get overwhelming sometimes. Like when we have to complete a million plates in a week, or when we have to go out and buy new supplies for our cameras and tripods. It’s hard on the pocket. But I’m doing my best.”

“Have you felt it pulling you back?”

He exhaled. “…sometimes.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“I take off into my own headspace, if that makes enough sense…yeah. I take off and stay in my head as much as I can. Try to calm myself down, talk myself out of thinking that way. There’s a fifty-percent success rate.”

“What happens if it doesn’t work?”

“I tell Marion, and she helps me.”

“Marion helps, right?”

“She helps a lot. She’s one of the few who know what I’m going through. I’m not comfortable telling any of the others…hell, even I’m not comfortable in confiding with my parents. Not that I feel anything against them, it’s just…I don’t know. I’m not sure if they’re comfortable with the idea of their son having…that.”

“Do they acknowledge it?”

“Dad reminds me to take my meds and mom keeps telling me when you call. It’s…small steps, baby steps. For all of us.”

Ezra shot him an encouraging smile. “You’re doing well.”

“I am?”

“Definitely. Baby steps, you said – and that’s what you’re doing right now. Taking your own steps towards more progress.” Ansel managed a small laugh and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re on the right track.”

“Choosing to come back already set me on the right track, I suppose.”

“It’s good that you know.” Ezra chuckled, “How about we keep talking, if that’s what you’d like?”

* * *

Ansel was still apprehensive when it came to acknowledging what he had. If he had to be honest, it wasn’t exactly something he was proud of. While proud of maintaining and surviving three years into it so far, there was still instances wherein he didn’t have it. At all.

He knew that Dr. Ezra knew his apprehension towards acknowledging it. It was cowardly, he felt, but he was still thankful that the older fellow respected his boundaries. It was definitely better than the past one or two he had gone two, who insist they shove the term in his face. Sort of like how parents sometimes threw their kids into the ocean so that they could swim for themselves.

But Ansel didn’t like that method. Not one bit.

The session went on. The gummy bears decreased steadily. When the hour passed and the clock behind rang to signal that sixty minutes had gone by, Ezra opened his desk drawer and fished for something that Ansel couldn’t see. “You did very well for a first session back here,” Ezra commended. Smiling, he took out a pack of gummies and pushed it towards Ansel. “A small reward.”

“You didn’t have to,” Ansel stammered. The action was a nice one, one that melted his heart a little bit; but he couldn’t accept that. He couldn’t. Despite that, Ezra gently pushed the pack into Ansel’s lap.

“I mean it, Ansel. Take it. It’s at least a small reward for coming back and deciding to continue this,” the older man insisted. Nodding slowly, Ansel put the pack of sweets into his messenger bag. “Same time next week, if that’s alright?”

“It is. Thank you,” he exhaled with a small smile, and Ezra waved off his thanks with a small chuckle.

“No need to thank me. Thank yourself.” He found himself leaving a few minutes later, promising to keep doing as well as he had been doing and to keep taking the medicines as prescribed. In the lobby, Marion greeted him with a grin and an attempted noogie.

“See? I told you that it would be okay. Do you want to eat somewhere?”

“Please. I think I need a burger,” Ansel responded, and to that she nodded eagerly, pulling him towards the exit.

“I’m so proud of you – you deserve all the burgers,” she told him. He gave her a sheepish smile. “You’re coming back next week, right?” he nodded and she wrapped an arm around his shoulder as they walked, “Good. Now, let's go.”