Hopeless

[Wyatt Finch]

[adminapproval=30265780]TW: Depression.

Waiting rooms felt comfortable to Wyatt Finch. Hospitals were a place of great stress for most people and yet they had always felt like a second home to him. Having grown up around hospitals he never felt most calm when in them, waiting room or otherwise and now he felt that it was the best place to be. It made Wyatt’s intangible problems the complete opposite. He didn’t feel guilty for his own emotions because he was in a hospital. Here you could be as sad as you needed to be and no one would say anything to question it. So the fifteen year old waited patiently. He saw person after person go into the ER until his name was called and he walked into a slightly smaller room to wait.

The nurse had asked him questions. Some normal and some that he couldn’t believe what he was hearing even after all these years around wizards and witches but the boy answered them all to his best ability whilst waiting. The entire reason he was here was because he suspected that he had developed some sort of infection or was playing host to some wizard bug that drained energy and moods but the Gryffindor was not in the business of self-diagnosis. So Wyatt listened to the Healer who took tests of different natures - leaving him in the lurch while he knew his sister was having fun at their home instead of spending time surrounded by wizards. He only wished he could be so carefree but the boy was never that sort of person. He sat hunched over a comic book, desperately wishing he could be once this all was over and whatever parasite he might have was removed.

Moments later and without being told much, Wyatt was directed to another department and it was then that he discovered where he had been sent. In big, black letters sprawled out the Mental Health Ward and Wyatt could only think of his conversations with Professor Kingsley and Marisol. Their concerns that he’d brushed off. He was unhappy but he wasn’t crazy. He’d felt angry at their suggestions and if he’d felt angry then Wyatt was furious now. The boy’s big blue eyes stayed unmoving on the sign as he imagined what the Healer had said to a therapist before sending him here. He imagined laughter and mocking. Wyatt wanted to hit them both with the business end of his beater’s bat but instead of walking away from the insult of it all he stood motionless. He wanted to turn away and leave but the ever-present ache in his chest pounded harder like a baseline until he teetered forward. He was suddenly walking into the ward and even more suddenly was he brought to an empty office. He hadn’t caught the name of the Healer he would be seeing because he was focused on the internal baseline as he waited. Wyatt had never felt this uncomfortable in a hospital which was certainly a bad sign because he could handle dealing with a deadly disease or some painful virus but his feelings were something he would wish to avoid despite the place he was currently seated.

 

[Jucinda Tennison]

Jucinda never went through a week without something surprising her, and it was both a benefit and a drawback of her career. Whether she was taking up a shift in the emergency department or in her rightful place at the mental health ward, she always found herself baffled yet intrigued over how unpredictable life could be. Often in the ER the surprises ranged to many extremes that cold include an unfortunate witch or wizard receiving the worst news of their life or recovering from an illness due to what seemed to be a miracle. Though in the mental health ward everything was a little more grey scale and furthermore unpredictable. The human mind was an amazing thing that kept Jucinda on her toes and constantly driven to work towards help people who could not help themselves. That day she was as driven as ever when she was referred a teenage boy, who was described to have a low mood and ever present tiredness, despite not showing any signs of vitamin deficiencies or a hormone imbalance in his medical tests. A few of the boy's possible conditions ran around Jucinda's mind as she walked towards her office, but she knew not to let any of the ideas sink in until she spoke with him to gain a better understanding of what he was going through.

She paused when she reached her office door, taking the time to breathe in, gather her composure and assume a fully neutral expression before shifting the papers in her arms to one side and walking into the room. "Hello Wyatt, my name is Jucinda Tennison. Feel free to make yourself at home." She greeted him while walking to her desk and placing her papers on top of it. She then then turned towards him and leaned back on the desk while smiling politely. "Now, the reason you have been referred to me is because the tests you have taken today don't show any physical reasons behind why you feel the way you do, and we obviously want to cover every basis so we can get to the bottom of what is happening to you." In her many years of experience she knew very well how intimidating and confusing visiting a therapist could be, especially for someone that was young. The last thing she ever wanted was for a patient to feel unwilling to speak about what was troubling them, whether they could speak about it or not, so she always tried her hardest to make the visits people had with her as comfortable as possible. "What I have been told specifically, is that you have a lack of energy and your mood is often very low. Would you like to begin by telling me a little more about that, and how it is affecting your life?" She continued to smile and waited for Wyatt to respond, hoping that he would feel comfortable enough to talk to her.

​

 

[Wyatt Finch]

Wyatt looked behind him when he heard the door knob twist. His stomach twisted with it. There were many things he wanted to do now that he saw the woman walk through the door but instead he sat idle and unblinking. The whole ordeal was unnerving for the fifteen year old who had just wanted to make sure he didn't have some sort of parasite but was likely going to now be admitted into the in-patient care facility. A person could never get that off of their record. He knew his mother had access to people's medical records as a lawyer and although he didn't foresee a time when he would need a defence lawyer Wyatt didn't like the idea of being admitted because that could make him some sort of target. The wizarding world had already proven to be unfair - Wyatt didn't want to add anything into the mixture. Alas, there was nothing he could do as he was not in the habit of lying to doctors. This was always a bad idea. The boy tried to appear unnerved as could be - in the Mental Health Ward, that is. He listened to Dr. Tennison as she explained why he was here and it was as he'd suspected upon arrival so the boy swallowed hard and crossed his arms against his chest in thought feeling nervous and angry at being deferred to such a place. He was sad but he never, ever insinuated that he would do anything rash because he could never do that to Stella. She was a terror but he knew it would make her age far too young and although he avoided his sister like the plague he admired how she seemed so carefree. Wyatt could never be the one to take that from her. Everybody else he could take or leave just as he felt they could do the same for him.

As Wyatt was asked about how his feelings were affecting his life he shrugged nervously, unsure how to answer that question without seeming like a crazy person. Although Dr. Tennison surely had patients worse off than he, Wyatt had heard a few of his dad's stories of patients going off the deep end and needing emergency surgery for thinking they had alien implants in their body. He was nowhere near as bad but Wyatt didn't want to be a funny story a doctor told at cocktail parties. "People bring it up all the time," Wyatt started, testing the waters to see how far he could go without being held overnight. "I miss out on stuff, I guess. But I don't really care," Wyatt was apathetic about nearly everything which tended to make him alright with the fact that he knew he was missing out on his time at school. "I've felt like this for a while so it's not a big deal," the boy said with tense shoulders as he tried to shrink into himself so perhaps the therapist would let him be.

 

[Jucinda Tennison]

Jucinda was glad Wyatt managed to answer her question, regardless of how brief the answer was. A small answer was better than no answer and any answer he gave her would bring them one step closer to figuring out what was happening to him. She nodded as Wyatt explained that others brought up his mood and then continued to nod as he said it caused him to miss out on things though her nodding stopped as he said he had felt that way for a while. The part of his answer that caused a red flag to fly for Jucinda was that he claimed not to care about missing out, as if he did not want to live life to the fullest or have any interest in the things he was missing out on as well as the fact he had felt such a way for a long time and seemed to be used to it. Even if he was genuinely uninterested in many of the things at his school, Jucinda thought it was best to understand that more, as losing interest in things was a typical symptom of depression as much as a low mood and constant tiredness. Depression was in fact one of the conditions she had considered before having this discussion with Wyatt but even then the healer didn't draw any conclusions at such an early time in their talk and instead used the time they had to ask the boy more questions "When you say that you miss out on things, but don't care that you do miss out, does this mean you are uninterested? Is it something specific that you are uninterested in, or is it more broad than that?"

She paused for a moment so Wyatt could think about his answer, before asking another question. "And what do you mean when you say that you have felt like this for a while? Is it for the last few weeks, or months, maybe even years?" Jucinda hoped the latter was not the case for Wyatt as feeling down for years wasn't something she would wish on anyone, let alone a child who should be characterized by a zest for life and making the most of the time they had in school before being weighed down by the responsibilities of adulthood. She also hoped that if Wyatt was experiencing depression as she suspected even after a few short questions, that she would be able to help him in any way she could. Jucinda smiled politely while she waited for Wyatt to answer her next set of questions. Even if the boy did not believe it, he was worth getting help as much as anyone else and he most importantly deserved to get help if it was indeed a mental illness that was bringing him down.
​

 

[Wyatt Finch]

Wyatt looked at Dr. Tennison as she spoke, asking him questions that he felt uncomfortable with but the saving grace was that instead of telling his parents that he was going to go to the hospital he’d done this of his own volition. It’d be embarrassing to sit in this office with an Aunt or an Uncle who would report back to his parents all about this. Wyatt could keep this to himself as he did with most things. “I don’t know,” the boy said to start although the tone of his voice made it clear that he was not done answering her question just yet. He then continued, “I make plans because I know I should want to be with my friends but sometimes it’s harder to get out of bed than the plans are worth.” He wasn’t sure if he was giving the right answers to these questions but they were the truth as far as he could see it. The teenager had never seen how it was a big deal prior to this but the way that the Doctor was making a deal about this was making him anxious as he sat in her office, speaking to her and pretending to be calm.

The duration of his low mood was long enough that people thought of it as his personality - even Wyatt himself had thought that this was just who he was. So once more he shrugged his broad shoulders as if to downplay whatever seriousness the therapist would take from this because he didn’t wish this to affect his career because it seemed that he would be forever stuck in the wizarding world thanks to Professor Kingsley’s lack of sympathy. If she wasn’t so nice he’d hate her for it. He felt so sure that the changes wrecked everything but he didn’t know what to feel anymore as he watched the woman process what he was saying. Although she didn’t make everything crystal clear for him there was concern etched on her face - he was all too familiar with that expression. “A few years,” Wyatt answered, trying to seem as blasé as possible while he waited for whatever else she would have to say.

 

[Jucinda Tennison]

Jucinda began to nod again to show Wyatt she was listening to his answers. Everything he said lead her closer towards drawing the conclusion that he did have a mental illness, specifically depression, and it furthermore made her to want to do everything she could to help him overcome it. If it meant he would want to spend time with his friends rather that thinking it was something he should do, as well as decide that plans with them were worth getting out of bed for, then she was both obliged and motivated to do what she could. When he said that he had felt that way for a few years, rather than months or weeks, Jucinda pursed her lips together, turning to her desk momentarily and sifting through the various papers she had brought with her. When she found what she was looking for - a specific leaflet that outlined what depression was and stated some common symptoms - among the pile, she moved it aside although refrained from showing it to the boy. She instead turned back to him with her same, neutral expression.

"Since you have felt this way for a long time, do you believe that you feel hopeless, and that you are not able to feel better, or that you don't deserve to feel better?" She allowed a moment for Wyatt to consider the question. She then asked a few more questions, although slightly more serious ones, before feeling confident that Wyatt was experiencing some form of depression. Thankfully his case was not as severe as others and she felt comfortable explaining what depression was to the boy as well as suggesting ways he can overcome it so he could leave the hospital that day with an action plan. "Alright, Wyatt," Jucinda said as she turned to pick up the leaflet from her desk. As she held it in her hands she said "I believe you are experiencing depression. If you don't know what that is, it's a mental illness caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain that affects a person's mood and energy, among other things. I have a small leaflet of information here for you." She handed the leaflet to him, before continuing. "Depression is very common, and every case is treatable with the right plan. Do you have any questions to ask me about this, before we talk about what we can do to help you feel better?" Jucinda asked, remaining patient so the boy had enough time to process everything. Though depression was common, there were unfortunately many stigmas about it as much as there was for any other mental illness. She did not want him to leave feeling as if he had something inherently wrong with him, and that he was alone in feeling that way. The truth was that he was not alone. Countless other people were experiencing exactly the same thing and Jucinda wanted to reassure him of this.
​

 

[Wyatt Finch]

When the doctor turned to him after searching for something in her desk Wyatt worriedly arched an eyebrow trying to peer into her hands but unable to so he simply answered her questions. "Yes," he said, "I think all three." He frowned, hearing what he had said out loud felt too real but there was no time to ponder this too long as they continued on with their discussion. The other questions he was answering all felt extreme to Wyatt but he answered them nonetheless and hoped that this meant that he was fine - even if he had come to St. Mungo’s under the impression that he had a bug taking away his motivation and happiness. On some level he should’ve known why he was being asked these questions and that it was the truth but when he’d answered the final question he was anything but prepared. Wyatt could feel his eyes water when Dr. Tennisson told him that he seemed to have clinical depression because he knew this meant the end. His life was easier than most but not without it’s challenges and he didn’t think it was fair that he had to go through this. He felt certain that now whatever happened he would have this following behind him - ensuring he couldn’t work in medicine - and Wyatt suddenly felt like it was hard to breath as she continued to speak all the while. Somehow he found a glossy leaflet in his hands and the boy didn’t remember taking it. He looked down at it and then back at the therapist and struggled to find words while he blinked away the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. He was such a girl for feeling like this. He didn’t know any guys who were depressed or cried and here he was sitting in an office that he suddenly felt extremely small in. Every bone and muscle in his body suddenly felt foreign to him, like he had been put into another person’s skin but that was absurd and so he shook his head. He had questions, yes, but not ones he knew how to express clearly so he sat quietly waiting for the woman to tell him what he might need to do as horrible as the idea of it was. However, before the doctor could continue on he blurted out, "Please don't tell my parents!" Wyatt didn't know how they would take it but he didn't want to find out, however as he was a minor he knew that doctor/patient confidentiality was waved when it came to the parent and guardian but he hoped this plea would help him in some way because he couldn't face his parents knowing this about him or worse that Stella would find out. She had such a big mouth and couldn't keep anything to herself - soon he'd be sure to face the pitying looks from everyone and would be utterly secluded. He just wanted normalcy and this would be anything but that if she told his parents. Maybe if he told her that they were a muggle and a squib that would make her more likely to keep this between them but he doubted it as he looked down at the leaflet in his hands.

 

[Jucinda Tennison]

Jucinda studied the boys reaction, fighting the motherly instinct she had to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. It was never easy to be told that your problems were caused by a mental illness in the same way it was never easy to tell someone. Even after years of working as a therapist with countless patients experiencing the same thing, it never got any easier for Jucinda. Especially in that instance as Wyatt was so young and that was one of the reasons she truly felt for the boy. The worst part was that giving bad news was an expectation of her career in the same way that the best part of her career was seeing people rise above the bad news and conquer what was troubling them. Wyatt like every other patient of hers deserved to overcome this and she wanted to see him through the journey regardless of how desolate it might seem to him now. She waited in the silence preparing her response, although was interrupted as Wyatt pleaded for her not to tell his parents. Even if she wanted to do everything in her power to make him comfortable that was a request she could not fill; he was a minor and telling his immediate family or a caregiver was a requirement by law. They needed to know and care for him if his situation worsened. She quickly answered him. "I'm sorry, but since you are a minor I do need to let them know of your visit here and your diagnosis. It's important for them to know so they can take proper care of you." Jucinda paused, but then added. "If it will help, what I can do is say the minimum and allow you to explain the rest. It might be helpful for you to open those lines of communication with your parents on your own terms. I just need to trust that you will talk to them about it. Can you promise me that you will talk to them, if I simply tell them the details of your visit and the outcome of this meeting with me?" It was important that he did speak to them and disclose further details if he did not want her to do it for him. She made a mental note to follow up with his parents in a few weeks to confirm this if she did not hear back from them.

Jucinda cleared her throat, then began to state a plan she thought fitting of Wyatt's situation, granted he did not have anything to change about it. "I think that you should start with some kind of therapy or counseling. Depending on the outcome of the counseling and your progress, you may be recommended some kind of medicine to take. Whether or not you do require medicine, you will still need to speak to a professional regularly. It does not have to be me, and considering your school situation you will likely be seeing someone that works in your school, I assume your school has some kind of counseling service available to you?" Jucinda remembered reading somewhere that Hogwarts New Zealand employed some form of counselor. Though if she remembered wrong there was always the option she or one of her other colleagues could see Wyatt during holiday breaks and correspond with him via Owl during semesters. It would mean more work and constant communication with professors in the school but it wasn't impossible. It just depended on what Wyatt wanted to do, and whichever option would allow him to overcome his depression sucessfully.
​

 

[Wyatt Finch]

Wyatt knew that the doctor had a legal obligation to tell the parents of minors the details of patients visits due to his parents respective careers but he had hoped that the law was different in New Zealand or maybe in the wizarding world. Maybe he could get away with never talking to them about this. He knew this and yet he was endlessly disappointed with what the Healer suggested because it was not at all what he wished to hear. However he nodded his head solemnly at the compromise she suggested. He didn't really have any other option - so much of his life was entirely out of his control but all he could do now was do whatever the woman wanted him to do. As she began speaking about an attack plan, so to speak, the boy swallowed hard. He was opposed to therapy as a rule of thumb. It seemed wasteful of important medical funds and now here he was taking up resources that could go to more useful things but more importantly he one that Hogwarts had virtually no areas that were entirely private and he couldn't risk anyone finding out about this. He would seem like such an idiot for talking about his feelings at school and with his other obligations he had little time to actually take part in sessions. Between studying for OWLs, Quidditch, and volunteering at the hospital wing he had little time and the rest he most certainly didn't want to be airing his dirty laundry to the world much less the staff at the school who seemed so ill-equipped for their jobs. "Um... I don't want to talk to someone at school. Things get spread around so easily there," he said, thinking of Teagan Maxwell and her virtual blackmail of Marisol. He still didn't know how the annoying girl had found out but he didn't want that to be him in a few months time. "Is there a way I can do therapy just during breaks and take medicine for now?" Wyatt asked, hoping he didn't seem too pushy but it was too much to deal with. He wanted to be normal so badly and having to talk to a therapist would make him different in a way he didn't think he could recover from. The Gryffindor boy hoped that the Healer could understand this and remember how hard it was to be at school.