The Return(61)

“Exactly.”

“And yet you also suspected that she was seeing someone else and was perhaps even in a serious relationship, prior to her actually admitting it. In other words, you were never sure what to expect. Now, couples’ counseling is not necessarily my area of expertise except in the context of PTSD, but one thing I’ve learned in the course of my own life is that you can’t force a romantic interest with someone who doesn’t want one with you.”

“But that’s the thing. I have the sense that she actually does want one with me.”

“Despite making it clear she wanted to end it?”

He had me there. Bowen went on. “Then the best you can do is wait until she changes her mind. In the meantime, it’s critical to take care of yourself and continue to move forward in your own life. It’s important not to dwell, since it’s likely to make you feel even worse.”

“How am I supposed to not think about it?”

“One thing you can do is stay busy. Stay focused on the things you need to do. Remember the lessons of CBT and DBT—that positive behaviors can help lessen the emotional turmoil you’re feeling. For instance, have you found a place in Baltimore to live yet? Tomorrow is the first of May.”

“Not yet,” I said. “I still have to figure that out.”

“It might help you feel better to get out of town. New environments, especially when combined with a specific, important purpose for the visit, can help distract from the emotions you’re experiencing.”

I knew that was true, but I nonetheless wondered if my trip to South Carolina had made Natalie’s decision to end it that much easier. Had I spent time with her earlier in the week, perhaps none of this would have happened. But who really knew for sure?

“You’re right, Doc. I’ll get on that.”

“You still have friends there, right?”

“A couple of guys from my residency are still in the area.”

“Maybe go to a ball game, or set up a lunch. Reconnecting with old friends is always good for the soul.”

Bowen, I knew, was a believer in any form of healthy distraction.

“I’ll think about it.”

“You also said that you wanted to speak with the owner of the towing company?”

Speaking with AJ had become a low, if not nonexistent, priority over the last few days. It had been all I could do to hold myself together.

“I’ll do that, too,” I mumbled.

“Good,” he said. “Keep in mind that as hard as things are, it is possible to find things to enjoy and to be grateful for the opportunities that life presents.”

Bowen used that expression frequently and while I recognized how important enjoyment and gratitude were when it came to good mental health, there were times it annoyed me. Like right now.

“Any other advice you can offer?”

“Concerning what?”

“What I should do about Natalie.”

“I think,” he said slowly, “you’re handling everything as well as can be expected at the present time. But I’m wondering if it might be a good idea for me to prescribe something that will help you sleep better. Extended periods without quality sleep can greatly affect how PTSD can manifest. Do you have any thoughts on it?”

I’d used sleep aids before, along with antidepressants. I understood well the benefits they could offer, but I preferred to avoid them.

“I think I’m okay, Doc. Let’s see how it goes.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. Remember that I’m around if you feel like you need to talk before our next session.”

“Will do.”

*



Despite my conversation with Bowen, I wasn’t inclined to find things to enjoy or to look for ways to be grateful.

Instead, I continued to dwell on the situation while pacing from one end of the property to the other. I tried to reflect on what Bowen had recommended; I did my best to accept the idea that Natalie had to make the decision that was right for her. Through it all, my emotions remained leaden and I could feel the tightness in my jaw coil into an ache.

To my chagrin, Bowen had been proven right again. He was like your parents when they told you to eat your vegetables as a kid: You might not like it, but it was indisputably good for you.

I knew enough not to risk going out in public in case someone cut in front of me in line or otherwise challenged my shaky equilibrium. I was self-aware enough to understand that it was sometimes better to hunker down and avoid human contact altogether.

Which is exactly what I did.

*



In the morning, I woke feeling more irritated at myself than Natalie. Though I hadn’t slept well, I knew it was time for the four-day pity party to end. That didn’t mean I was grateful—far from it. But I’d learned over time that CBT and DBT work. In other words, I had to stay busy and knock items off my to-do list.

After my workout and breakfast, I dived into the internet, reviewing descriptions and photographs of furnished rentals in the vicinity of Johns Hopkins. Because I’d lived there before, I knew the neighborhoods well and was able to find eight different units that piqued my interest.

Thinking Bowen was also right about leaving town, I called various brokers to set up times for viewings through the end of the week. Next, I booked a hotel, then finally emailed with an orthopedic surgeon who still lived in Baltimore and agreed to meet me for dinner Saturday night. I looked into catching an Orioles game as well, but they were playing away. Instead, I reserved tickets to the National Aquarium. I could practically feel Bowen patting me on the back for a job well done.