Page 4 of Collin, Episodes 13-15 (The Residency Boys #5)

Holden looked away. “Our company has resources. We could look into it.”

“I’m afraid if anyone asks questions someone might realize I know enough to say something.”

“And you’re very visibly attached to us.”

“One could say that.”

“I’ll add it to your private file, but we won’t run it down right now.”

The door to O’Brian’s office opened. A middle-aged man with grizzled hair appeared. He wore jeans and a deep-maroon sweater.

“Ah, Mr. Ryker. Come in.”

“If I may sweep the room first,” Holden said. It wasn’t a question.

O’Brian blinked and adjusted his glasses. “Sweep? I think you’ll need a vacuum.”

“Security sweep.”

“Ah, yes. Um…don’t mind the cat. She’s hiding behind the couch.”

Holden shot him a smile. “I love cats.”

Collin settled on the couch facing O’Brian.

O’Brian readjusted his glasses again and patted his desk, finding a clipboard. “I need to pick up my new prescription. They’re at the shop. Got the call this morning. Just haven’t gotten there yet. So, Mr. Ryker. What do you prefer I call you?”

“Collin, please. What should I call you?”

“Oh, Broderic is fine. I’m not big on titles even when I’m in the scene. I’m assuming Mr. Moreau told you that you can tell me anything about your home life?”

Collin gave a jerky nod. It was hard to imagine this man in a BDSM situation. He looked like he’d be more comfortable running a fantasy tabletop game.

Broderic squeezed his face up in a smile. “Have you ever seen a therapist before?”

“Never.”

“Not even at school?”

“No.”

“So, what made you and your partners feel that you should start?”

Collin laughed without humor. “Probably the first panic attack they saw. And a massive inability to take care of myself.”

“Oh.” Broderic adjusted his glasses again. He looked Collin up and down. “So, is this all Mr. Moreau and Mr. Reevesworth?”

Collin looked down. He was in one of his now normal blue business suits, brown leather shoes, and matching belt. He did look put together.

“Yeah, this would be new.”

“You look healthy.”

“I didn’t a month ago.”

“What was happening a month ago?”

What was happening a month ago? He had to count back the weeks.

“I think just over a month ago I woke up naked on the floor of Ms. Linda’s break room bleeding out in Mr. Reevesworth’s lap from a head injury at something like three a.m.”

Broderic blinked twice. He pushed his glasses up with one finger and very carefully took a second look at Collin. “I’m going to assume this is before you moved in with your partners?”

“Oh, most definitely.”

“I can see why your loved ones might be concerned. How did you get hurt?”

Collin grimaced. “Lack of sleep, overwork. Forgot to eat. Slipped and fell.”

“And the naked part?”

“Wasn’t thinking clearly. Was trying to wash something disgusting out of my clothes. I worked at a bar, and a customer spilled something on me. I just had to get it off. It was all I was thinking about.”

“Ah. And do you still work at the bar?”

“No. That was my last shift. Wasn’t planned, but I never went back.”

Broderic tilted his head. “How do you feel about that?”

“Well, I panicked when they put me on bed rest from the concussion. That’s probably why they decided I should see you.”

“You said “they”. Do you want to be here?”

Collin tilted his head to the side. “I’m doing better. A lot better. And I trust my doms. So, if they say I should be here, then I’m going to be here.”

“Is there something specific that you want from therapy?”

Was there? Collin rubbed the underside of his chin with knuckles. “I mean, can therapy change reality? Because there are certain things that just are. And then you have to live with it. Or try to ignore it.”

“How we feel about something that’s happened or is happening or that we expect to happen changes our responses to the situation and how we experience it. So yes, therapy can change our reality by changing our avenues of engaging and crafting story.”

“Story? What does that have to do with reality?”

“Humans are essentially creatures of story. We tell stories to understand ourselves. Say if there’s a little girl who goes onto the playground and has the story in her mind that everyone is going to hate her and the first other little person she meets glares at her and walks away, then she’s proven her story correct.

Other people don’t like her. But if that same little girl walks onto the playground and believes that other people might be scared and shy but eventually they are going to like her, she’s going to try again, and eventually, she’ll probably make friends.

But unless someone else is present with a story that motivates them to try to make friends with her, she’s not going to make any friends as long as she carries that first story. ”

That was a lot to absorb. Silence stretched into the room for a moment. “What about stories like the world inherently doesn’t care about little people and money always wins?”

“Those stories can be changed as well. We’ll never lie in this room.

I’m not going to try to tell you that systematic oppression doesn’t exist or that someone born without a hand isn’t at a disadvantage compared to someone born with two working hands.

But we can work with the story to make it one that serves us and how we want to live.

There are so many stories to choose from and evidence for all of them. ”

“And what if there’s a part of me that has absolutely experienced evidence to the contrary? What if I am that negative story? What if I absolutely know the bad story is real?”

“You’re still alive, right?”

“So far.”

“Any plans to kill yourself?”

“No. I rather plan on living as long as I can.”

“Then the story keeps being written. What I do is help you work with the parts of yourself that are stuck in the old stories you want to add on to or rewrite. While I do a lot of different kinds of work, my primary specialty is something called Internal Family Systems, IFS.”

“And you can change the evidence?”

“No.” Broderic shook his head and leaned forward.

“Think of it this way. Something really objectively awful happens to you when you’re, say, seven.

That part of you that experienced that moment can get sealed in time.

It’s in a loop, like a book that’s been written and shut.

If you go back to that part of yourself, it has that one incident inside it, and it makes all decisions and has all reactions based on that one moment, what it knows.

So, if that moment, going back to our playground story, is of being rejected and not allowed to play with the other kids, then that part of you walks around with the knowledge that other kids won’t play with me.

“And that story follows us into adulthood. We walk into a room, and if that seven-year-old part of us is making the decisions in that moment we enter the room, we drop our eyes, to avoid seeing rejection, which means we aren’t meeting the gaze of anyone who does want to talk to us.

We miss the possible moments and continue to feed that seven-year-old part’s story.

It gets bigger and bigger and stronger. We trust it because we have so much evidence that they are right.

But that part is locked in a moment of pain.

It’s not learning. It’s not growing. And when that part is in control of our choices, we’re reacting based on an old situation.

That part is just trying to protect us from the pain of rejection.

It’s not a bad part. It’s a wounded part, but it’s continuing to hurt and or limit us. ”

“So, I have to stop believing those parts? Get rid of them? Push them down and not listen?”

“No. We never want to push parts deeper. That’s a good way to end up with orphaned or abandoned pieces of ourselves.

And even if we aren’t thinking about them, they’re still there.

It takes a lot of energy to shove parts down and away and pretend that we didn’t have those experiences and aren’t carrying those stories. That’s a good way to fuel a burnout.”

Collin laughed and slapped a hand over his face. “You don’t say.”

Broderic smiled back. “In my practice, we talk to our parts. We tease out their story, and we help them with new ones. The core of the work is getting the parts of ourselves to trust and listen to Self, the center of who we are. It can take a while to find Self. But we can get there. And then Self can shepherd and take care of and talk to all our parts.”

Can you really handle what all my parts would tell you? Collin stared at the therapist. Because it’s not playgrounds and little kids. “Do you have a safe word?”

“That’s an interesting question. Why do you ask? Since we’re not in a scene…”

Collin held up his hand, throat and back tight. “I’m not really here to talk about playgrounds and little kids. How much can I say before you want to run? Before I look in your eyes and know that you need me to shut up for your own good?”

Broderic mirrored Collin’s posture and took off his glasses. He rubbed his eyes. “There’s not much that I haven’t heard, Collin. You’re not going to shock me.”

Their eyes met.

I’m going to need more. Collin didn’t drop his gaze, but he also didn’t say anything.

“I’m not trying to impress anyone,” Broderic said softly. “I don’t care to. But my story is that there is a better story that can be found. It’s a quest, my quest.