Chapter 8

Some days later, Landon woke to sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. He felt a furry body next to him. It was the first full night’s sleep he’d had in months. No demons. No blood. No bad dreams. Just soft snoring.

Scout opened one eye and peered at him, as if asking whether he could stay. He remembered the resolve he had made about not getting too emotionally invested in the dog. It had lasted until the first nightmare, when Scout had woken him, crawled up on the bed, and let him cling to him.

The dog’s eyes regarded him solemnly now, and he couldn’t help but rub his ears. So much for not getting invested.

Landon looked at the clock on the stand next to his bed. Nearly seven. He rarely, if ever, slept that late, but then yesterday had been a very emotionally exhausting day.

Derek had driven Landon to the PTDS center in Seattle for his first meeting with his psychiatrist, Doctor Michaels.

The toughest part of seeking help had been making that first appointment. Derek had been gently pushing him to do the right thing.

Landon liked Doctor Michaels. He was a middle-aged man, bearded, of a good natural enthusiasm.

“All soldiers are affected by combat. It is normal for them to experience symptoms due to their deployment experiences. I bet you drink more coffee now than you used to, huh? Maybe you used to get drunk too.”

Landon thought about that and said, “Yeah, I’m drinking at least a pot a day. I admit I used to drink a lot too when I got back home, but I don’t drink anymore. So?”

“While you were in the combat zone, your body, without you knowing it, was releasing a ton of endorphins and adrenaline, even when you weren’t doing anything. When you came back, your mind and body were still on that high. Your body still needed those endorphins. And so you were seeking out stimulants like caffeine for having lost that feeling.”

Landon thought about that for a second and finally nodded.

Doctor Michaels finished taking notes and explained, “I’ll tell you about everything, Landon. What I am writing down, what I don’t write down, where that record goes and who has access to it. I want to be open with what I am doing so you are aware and you are also able to trust me.”

“Okay.”

“If you see me as someone you can trust, then you are more likely to listen and understand my recommendations,” the doctor kept explaining. “At this first stage, we’ll be working towards feeling more stable in your life and not feeling so chaotic and out of control.”

“That would be good.”

“Tell me where your negative thoughts come from. Where does your mind go when you have those flashbacks. I know it’s a challenge to open up to someone who is, essentially, a complete stranger. But when it comes to therapy, opening up can make all the difference. The more I know, the better I can understand you and help you.”