Way Down I'll Go

A Vision Softly Creeping

"Jo? Are you back with me?"

Jo blinked several times, Tim's cozy office clearing in front of his eyes. He blinked again and found Tim's gentle gaze fixed on him. He dropped his head.

"Yes, sir. 'M sorry." he rasped, his breathing still too quick to accommodate full sentences.

"Why are you apologizing, Jo?" 

Tim's lips were turned up into a small smile.

Jo took a deep breath in, counting to four, holding, blowing out for four, and holding in the method he'd been practicing in each session. After a few cycles, he shrugged, knowing Tim would wait patiently for his answer, even if it took all of their remaining ten minutes.

"For freaking out. Didn't mean to."

Tim shook his head.

"You didn't 'freak out', Jo. You just went back for a bit. That's not your fault." 

He paused, allowing Jo time to calm himself. 

"You know, you've made so much progress in coming out of the flashbacks." 

Another pause. 

"You're doing great, Jo. Really great."

Jo coughed as his lungs regained control. He allowed himself to sit in Tim's approval, trying his best to accept it, though habit made him want to deny it, or at least shake his head. In truth, the flashbacks weren't as intense as they used to be. When he 'went back' as Tim so eloquently put it, there was a small part of his mind that whispered to him, telling him it wasn't real, that he was safe. A small, quiet voice that went to battle with loud, angry voice that had once reigned supreme.

After months of talking, and failing, and falling, and picking himself back up again, Jo was beginning to see a light at the end of a tunnel he thought he'd never leave.

"What's on your mind?"

Tim's question pulled him back into the room and he met the therapist's kind eyes. For a moment, he felt overwhelmed with gratitude. Tim had been nothing but patient and gracious these past months. He cleared his throat and swallowed past the small lump forming there.

"Just..." 

He paused, searching for the right words. 

"Thank you."

Tim's expression was pleasantly confused.

"For everything. For putting up with me. I know...I know I'm not an easy patient." 

Tim tsked quietly, but Jo pushed forward. 

"I...I still have nightmares, and I...go back...a lot. But I don't stay there. And I haven't...I don't..."

He sputtered to a stop, but Tim waited. Taking a deep breath, he began again.

"I come in here every week feeling...I don't know. Heavy. Like I'm a thousand pounds. And when I leave, I feel lighter. Like, the weight is still there, but it's not crushing me anymore. I can carry it." 

Shaking his head, he sighed. 

"That probably doesn't make any sense."

Tim smiled. 

"It makes perfect sense, Jo. That's a really good way of putting it. But you're the one who's done that. I just ask the questions. You have to be willing to answer them, to do the work. And you, my friend, have worked your ass off, if I may say so," he said, with a shrug. "And I don't 'put up with you'", he added, drawing air quotes. "It's always a pleasure to see you."