Friday, Nov. 26, 1999
The house is silent. It's 2 a.m. Thanksgiving is over, such as it was, which was pretty much a disaster. We couldn't bear to have dinner here, so we went to help at a soup kitchen. I thought it might be a good experience for Kat and get all our minds off our sorrows. Alex was fine for a while, but then completely broke down. I think the shock is wearing off. She's torn to pieces. It's going to take a long time for her to deal with Derek's death. But more than that, she's lost everything - not just Derek, her mentor, her anchor, her teacher, but all her things... clothing, mementos, photos... her home ever since grad school. At least I still have my house, my practice, and Kat.
I had not anticipated the depth of Kat's feelings. I would have expected it if something had happened to Nick or Alex. She always seemed closer to them. With Derek there was always a distance of formality and age, but perhaps I was wrong. Except for pubescent outbursts, she conceals her emotions, suppresses them, but she's shaken to the core. Perhaps, the common denominator of their "sight" has something to do with it. I know she's confused. I've tried to get her to talk about it, but in a way she reminds me of Derek. She's snappish on the superficial, and "closed" on the important. I suspect that she's "seen" something.
I've tried to maintain some control of the TV - to shield both Alex and Kat - allow them time and separation, but I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing. How can psychiatry train you for the battle between Heaven and Hell?
I don't know how I feel myself. I'm not sure I feel anything. Did I ever feel anything for Derek - even friendship? At one time, I thought I felt something much more, but now I wonder if I was simply under the sway of whatever "mystique" it was that he had - the "scent" of the "alpha male." I saw it work on others often enough. Did it work on me for a while as well? Was that real? What of the anger I felt toward him? Sometimes it verged on hatred. He never failed to dredge up that defensive, insecure, little girl in me. I resented that paternalistic way he had - that secretiveness - his attitude of what you don't know won't hurt you. I think he loved playing those manipulative games, while he sat back and watched us jump through hoops and chase our tails. He must have found it amusing. Did it bolster his ego?
The psychiatrist in me says, "Yes." He convinced himself that he, alone, knew what was best. Did he, I wonder? Yet, he was playing those games in a personal war against Satan himself. What did his "Sight" show him of his own future? It makes my stomach queasy to think that he may have known all his life what his end would be. If so, how did he ever live with it?
Maybe I'm in shock too. Maybe I cared more for him than I admit, or maybe I never really felt anything for him at all. I don't know anything any more. I feel like I'm on autopilot - programmed by a psychiatric textbook. I guess time will tell. I just hope Derek Rayne has found his peace and that it will be everlasting.
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