The beginning of the school week started off normal as always. Class, lunch, class, practice, dinner, homework, bed. At practice, I was wary of running into Chris, but surprisingly he wasn't around.
Coach later told me that he has been suspended from baseball activities for the week for laying hands on a fellow teammate. I started to feel guilty until coach added something else before leaving me. "It's not you specifically, Jake. He would be suspended regardless of who he laid his hands on. I don't want you thinking it's because of your past that I did this. I don't tolerate violence of any kind in my team. Chris is already lucky I didn't report him to the school and get him suspended from classes." With that, he left me to conduct some coaching with the pitchers and catchers.
Knowing that I wouldn't run into Chris this week, really lightened my mental load. Plus, Zeke couldn't make me run laps. As he was sidelined, forced to just watch, I got to participate like a normal player going through fielding and batting drills. No Drew for me this week.
Wednesday afternoon, Mr. Atkins came for me in the middle of practice to take me to Dr. Moore's office. Noah followed me, waving goodbye to the team and coaches. My lips twitched at how happy he looked, like he was going on a vacation and not to my psych appointment. What a weirdo.
Mr. Atkins didn't say much when Noah told him that he wanted to join us. He just sighed and agreed, leading us to where we are now. In Dr. Moore's office. The four of us. Noah and I sat on the couch, Mr. Atkins in the chair, and Dr. Moore behind the desk.
Dr. Moore looked at me, pen and notebook in hand. "Jake? I've heard you have something you specifically want to talk about today?"
I looked him in the eyes. "I had a nightmare Sunday morning. The kind where I woke up sweaty, heart pounding, and slightly confused."
"Let's start with what it was all about." He got his pen and paper ready. I repeated the dream I. It's entirety from the loud ump, the mean catcher, striking out, to Chris confronting me, and then turning into my mom who had smack me into waking up.
"That's quite a nightmare. Full of everything you fear, right? Striking out, being confronted, your mom hitting you?" Dr. Moore asked.
I shrugged. "I wouldn't particularly say that I'm afraid of striking out. And confrontation only makes me anxious. It's being touched that scares me." I peeked at Noah, who was sitting there quietly all the way through. "I also don't like to be crowded. Even when the baseball team is celebrating...I get nervous if there's no way out."
Noah nodded. "This past weekend, Jake had hit a walk off single to win the game for us so the team surrounded him to celebrate. But I safely intervened."
"And by intervened...what did you do?" Dr. Moore asked Noah.
I told my brother to put him down and for the team to backup. They know Jake a little better now so they try to contain themselves."
Dr. Moore wrote something down before looking back at me. "Did any part of your dream have any resemblance to reality?"
I nodded. "The catcher in one of the games spoke to me. It was his words I heard in the dream. Then Chris...he really grabbed me during one of the games because I made a mistake. As for my mother...she has hit me many times so I'm sure that's from some memory."
"Dreams related to waking-life experiences are associated with REM theta activity, which suggests that emotional memory processing takes place in REM sleep. REM stands for rapid-eye movement and that's for when the brain activity is high, almost resembling being awake." Dr. Moore explained. "What you saw are key memories that had a very big impact on your emotions. The most vivid memories are usually from emotional events that stick with you."
"Like his mom hitting him?" Noah cut in.
Dr. Moore didn't mind. "Yes. That had a big impact on Jake. Same with your teammate Chris grabbing you." He said. "That probably triggered something in your brain to relate that to your mother. Maybe because she had done something similar."
"So there's nothing I can do about it..?" I asked, feeling a little down.
"There is. And you're already doing it." I looked at Dr. Moore and caught him smiling at me. "The first step is to talk about your dream with someone else. That releases some of the pent up distress. Then we discuss your dream and how it relates to reality and why it bothers you. Next, we need to replace your unhappy thoughts with something that cheers you up." He looked at Noah. "What do you think Jake would do to be happy?"
"The batting cages of course!" Noah told him. "He loves batting. It relaxes him during practice."
Dr. Moore looked back to me. "Next time you have a nightmare or distressing thought or even a bout of anxiety, I want you to imagine yourself batting. Do you think you can do that?"
I shrugged. "I guess."
"Good. Let's practice a bit." Dr. Moore instructed. He had me imagine past scenarios that would give me anxiety attacks, and then would tell me to think about the batting cages and how I like to hit the ball. It didn't work all the time, but I started to feel a change from within. Almost like I was taking a step towards taking control of my life again. If my emotions could control me, then I could also take control of my emotions.
We talked a little more about my nightmare and how it shouldn't happen so often since people only remember their dreams when they wake up during REM sleep. There was hope.
"Before you go, I wanted to ask how you're doing with social interactions? Have you taken the step to speak with your teammates one on one? How about strangers?"
I mean...kind of? I glanced at Noah and he understood right away. He spoke up for me. "Jake has been speaking more with others, but he's never really alone since I'm around. We have the same classes and are on the same team and we share the same room so it's kind of hard for him to be alone."
Yet, it's not hard for me to feel alone. I thought to myself.
Dr. Moore made a face, but didn't say anything else about it. Instead, he switched to a topic we haven't really spoken much about: my dad. "Have you had any dreams pertaining to your father?"
I shook my head. "I can barely remember what he looks like." I mumbled. "He left when I was little. Real little. Three."
"You still remember him from when you were three?" Dr. Moore asked, showing some surprise.
I gave a slow nod. "Nothing specific though. Just little things like seeing him walk outside."
"Oh? Do you know why that stuck with you? Or maybe even what he was doing?"
"He was leaving." I cleared my throat. "I don't know if that was really the last time I saw him or not. But it's the image of him leaving that stuck with me. He didn't turn around." Neither did my brother. They just walked out and kept going. Leaving me behind. I fell silent, no longer wanting to talk about it.
"Think of the batting cages!" Noah bumped his shoulder into mine. "Remember? Don't get so down on yourself!"
I did what I was told. Batting was easy. There was a certain rhythm to it that brought me peace.