Learning to Fly: A story about overcoming depression

by David E Forrester

  ‘Pete, take a walk. I’ll look after the books,’ Nick said firmly.

  Shocked and embarrassed, Pete gathered up his security pass and iPhone and left.

  Pete paced back and forth outside the bank’s office tower. He had never craved nicotine, but every time he passed by what the local officer workers referred to as ‘cancer corner’, he felt the urge to ask one of the smokers congregated there for a cigarette.

  Those forty-thousand dollars added to the losses he had already made on the back of what was happening in the Ukraine…Pete had never had such a bad run and he was worried that he was about to lose his precious self-confidence, the death knell for traders.

  Pete’s iPhone buzzed; it was Nick. ‘Pete, meet me in meeting room four in five minutes,’ Nick said gruffly and ended the call.

  That’s ominous, Pete thought.

  Nick was already sitting behind the table in the meeting room when Pete got back upstairs. He let out a sigh as Pete entered the room.

  ‘Sit down, Pete,’ Nick said in the neutral tone. ‘I talked to Neil and he agreed that the forty grand should come out of Sales’ book and not yours. It’s good to see that the Head of Asia Sales has some sense.’

  Relief made Pete feel slightly smug. ‘Is it going to come out of Derek’s pocket or does all of Sales have to share in his stupidity?’

  Nick grudgingly offered, ‘Half will be out of Derek’s book and the rest spread evenly among the Asia Sales Desk.’

  ‘I don’t see why the other sales people should pay for Derek’s mess up. And why does he still have a job anyway? For goodness sake, Nick, it was four minutes out from a major data release and he didn’t know his client’s order. And this isn’t the first time,’ Pete added, jabbing his finger at the table.

  ‘You and I both know why he’s here. He handles our largest account in Asia and there’s a photo of him on the boss’s wall in London having a run on with the Lions.’

  Pete sighed but kept his thoughts about Derek to himself. He just wanted this meeting to be over so he could get back to his desk unscathed and lord it over Derek.

  ‘Now, as for you, you’re going to take the rest of the day off, and tomorrow. I need to put some distance between you and Sales for a while.’

  ‘Why? I’m not the one who messed up,’ Pete protested.

  ‘Because what you said ticked off all of Sales, not just Derek,’ Nick explained, his anger building.

  ‘What? That bookkeeper crack? They should have thicker skins.’

  Nick’s anger came to the boil. ‘No, your threat to add a pip to the spread of every one of Derek’s trades,’ Nick hissed and then paused to bring his anger back to a simmer. ‘That crack crossed the line and it shouldn’t have been made by a senior trader, especially one who hopes to become the Head of Asia Trading. How’s Sales supposed to trust you to make good prices and win business with remarks like that? And what sort of example is that for the young traders? Neil wanted you fired.’

  Pete felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Nick leaned forward and took on a more conciliatory tone. ‘I know you’re down a bit year-to-date, but you’ve never acted like this before. So, what’s got into you lately, Moggy?’ he asked.

  Pete felt a sting from Nick’s use of his trading-floor handle. It was short for ‘Merchant of Gloom’ and Pete had earned it by making a lot of money during the Global Financial Crisis as well as the European Debt Crisis, while other traders had lost massive amounts. Now, the nickname was just another reminder of how things had changed dramatically for the worse.

  ‘I’m fine Nick, I just have a lot on my plate at the moment,’ Pete said.

  ‘Is there something wrong at home?’ Nick probed.

  Pete felt a sudden sadness well up in him that threatened to drown his rational thoughts. He wanted to stop the meeting before he did or said anything that would embarrass him and likely jeopardise his career further. Pete knew that ending the meeting was not an option. Nick needed something concrete to take back to management to explain Pete’s behaviour as a temporary aberration. Instead, Pete looked down at the desk to gather every bit of resolve he had. He could not tell Nick what had happened last night. If he did, his career would end faster than he could clear out his desk and not just at the bank; the whole street would find out and Pete would become a pariah.

  ‘Everything’s fine, Nick,’ Pete said calmly looking steadily at Nick. ‘I’m just a little tired. This Putin thing’s keeping me up at nights. And every other night, Nigel from Sales in London keeps calling me to whine about the spreads the bank makes in Asian currencies in the London time zone. Hell, doesn’t he know that those currencies don’t trade much outside of the Asian time zone, so the spreads are always going to be wide as there’s next to no liquidity?’

  ‘We have traders in London and New York. Let them handle the stuff that happens overnight. And leave Nigel to me. I’ll have a word with him.’

  Pete grimaced at the thought of Nick speaking to Nigel as if he were Pete’s father and Nigel a bully. ‘C’mon Nick you want me to show you I can be a manager, so let me try and manage Nigel.’

  ‘Pete, today showed me you still have to learn some…finesse in handling Sales. So let me take this one. And quit the twenty-four-hour trading I need you rested and alert for trading in Asia.’

  ‘Nick, you know nothing’s happening in Asia these days. I have to trade the London and New York markets to make budget,’ Pete explained.

  Nick sighed. ‘Pete, I think you should take the rest of the week off and get some sleep and some distance from the markets. You need a fresh perspective. See you Monday,’ Nick commanded as he got up from the table and started heading towards the door. He paused and looked back at Pete.

  ‘Pete, you know I want you to be the one to replace me when I go back to London, but today you made that a lot harder. Hell, Neil’s already given me the name of a mate from his old bank for the job, so he’d have someone who owes him. So if you want the job, start making money again and friends,’ Nick advised.

  And before Pete could say anything, Nick was out the door.

  Pete sat alone in the office for a moment. His mind flashed through the morning’s events and he flinched when he recalled everyone on the trading floor staring at him. He felt ashamed and to his surprise tears began to well up in his eyes. Pete hadn’t cried since he was a kid and his dog had died.

  He recalled the first time he had felt the despair he was now feeling. He was four years old when the Monster first started speaking to him. Pete could not recall the exact incident, only his running out of the house and hiding in the wheat fields until it was dark, and he heard his mother call him in for dinner.

  He took a breath and dabbed away a trickle of tears with the cuffs of his shirt. Back then, hiding gave Pete time, time to deal with the Monster before having to deal with other people. There was no hiding now, and time was in short supply because the Monster was winning.

  3

  Shock and admiration

  Liz looked up from the couch and was surprised to see Pete home in the middle of the day.

  ‘You look even worse than you did this morning. Have you seen a doctor?’ she asked.

  Pete emptied his pockets on the counter near the door and said, ‘Nope.’

  ‘I’ll call and make an appointment for you with Doctor Lee,’ Liz offered.

  ‘Don’t bother. I was benched by Nick for the rest of the week. So, I won’t need an MC,’ Pete said with a sigh.

  ‘Well I’m glad to see that Nick knows when you need a break. You shouldn’t have even gone into work today,’ Liz added.

  Pete winced as he thought, She doesn’t know the half of it, and shuffled over to the couch to sit next to her. ‘Where are Wati and Bobby?’ Pete asked to check they could speak privately.

  ‘Wati just left to do some shopping for dinner and Bobby’s napping. Why?’ Liz asked.

  Pete took a breath and let it out slowly. ‘Liz, Nick benched me because I went off at a sales
guy today.’

  ‘Did he do something to set you off?’ Liz inquired.

  ‘He left out the details of a deal and it cost me forty grand,’ Pete explained.

  ‘Well you had every right to be angry then. What, the little private-schoolboy couldn’t handle being chewed out?’ Liz said with disdain.

  Liz came from a similar rural background to Pete and had the same contempt for social hierarchy. But the fact that she was giving him the benefit of the doubt made it even more difficult for Pete to recount the day’s events to her. His guilt and shame consumed him. Pete looked away and began to cry.

  Liz had never seen her husband cry. Sure, he had been a little teary on their wedding day, but this was altogether different. She began rubbing his back. ‘Pete, what’s the matter? You’re not normally this emotional. What’s going on?’ Liz asked, concerned.

  Pete stared at the floor, tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘I know I’ve been messing up lately, Liz. At home and now at work. Everything’s falling apart.’

  ‘You’re just in a rough patch. You’ve been taking on extra work to try and get a promotion and I know the market hasn’t been treating you well lately, but you’ll bounce back. You just need time like you always do,’ Liz said, trying to console him.

  ‘That’s just it, I don’t think I have any more time,’ Pete replied.

  ‘What do you mean? Nick only benched you, he didn’t fire you, right?’ Liz said anxiously.

  ‘No, what I meant was…’ and then Pete let out a groan and his tears became a torrent.

  ‘Pete, What’s the matter? Tell me.’

  Between sobs Pete said, ‘Liz, it’s the Monster…it’s always there now…it’s not letting me back up…I can’t get back up…I just can’t…’ Pete took a long, laboured breath before saying, ‘Last night I tried to end it all by jumping off the balcony.’

  Liz was shocked. ‘What do you mean tried? Unless you have wings or a parachute, jumping off an eleventh-storey balcony should be successful.’

  Pete was dismayed by Liz’s reaction. ‘I slipped and fell, trying to climb over the railing.’

  ‘Slipped!? I knew I should’ve had the landlord put no-slip tiles out there before we moved in,’ Liz said, thinking aloud.

  ‘Don’t you care about what I just told you?’

  ‘Oh, sorry Pete,’ Liz back-pedalled. ‘Have you told anyone at work about this?’ she asked.

  Still shocked at Liz’s reaction, he said. ‘No.’

  ‘Good, keep it that way. They’d find a way to fire you. And you really need to see someone about this. You clearly can’t handle this on your own anymore,’ Liz said firmly.

  Pete felt buoyed by Liz’s pragmatism. ‘I know, but what if someone at work found out I was seeing a shrink? I may as well sign my resignation papers.’

  ‘You can see someone while you’re having a few days off. I’ll do some digging around while you go and get some sleep. And hurry up about it. Bobby’s going to be up from his nap soon and I don’t want him to see you like this,’ Liz said.

  ‘I don’t want that either,’ Pete said. He looked at his wife. ‘You know I doubt that I would be able to do this by myself. So, thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Liz said and reached over to embrace him. She pressed her cheek to Pete’s nape and briefly allowed some of her own tears to flow.

  ‘Now go and get some sleep,’ Liz said, quickly wiping away her tears.

  Pete got up off the couch and headed for their bedroom. He closed the door after him, switched on the air conditioning and stripped down to his underwear. Throwing his clothes into the laundry basket he collapsed onto the bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.

  4

  Apathy

  Pete woke up with no idea what time it was. The light coming through the curtains could have been dawn or dusk. He hoped it was morning and that the events of the past day were just a bad dream.

  Liz came into the bedroom. ‘Oh, you’re awake. I just wanted to come in and check if you wanted any dinner.’

  Pete sighed. ‘Yeah, I guess I’m hungry.’

  He rolled out of bed, feeling a little stiff and sore, threw on some clothes and followed Liz out into the living room. Bobby was already sitting at the table shovelling rice into his mouth. The sight of their nearly six-year-old son greedily eating his dinner would normally bring a broad grin to his face, but he could not muster up the emotion for even a smile.

  Bobby paused his eating. ‘Hi Daddy. Did you have a good sleep?’

  ‘Hi Bobby. Yes, I did,’ Pete answered and then kissed Bobby on top of his head and went to sit down opposite Liz. Wati, their Indonesian helper, came out of the kitchen and put a plate of steamed rice in front of Pete.

  ‘Thank you Wati,’ Pete said.

  ‘You’re welcome sir,’ she replied and headed back to the kitchen.

  ‘Do you feel hungry Daddy? Aunty cooked your favourite, ayam penyet,’ Bobby said from the head of the table.

  Pete looked at the spicy Indonesian fried chicken and – his favourite – a bowl of Wati’s spicy sambal sauce. But then he experienced the same indifference he’d felt towards Liz that morning.

  What’s going on? he thought, then, ‘Yeah buddy I guess I’m a bit hungry,’ Pete said, forking a piece of chicken onto his plate.

  He spread sambal over it liberally and tore the chicken apart with his fork and spoon, mixed it with some rice and ate it, hoping to rouse his appetite. He tasted the salty, tangy, spicy combination and felt the sting of chilli on his tongue. He waited for the endorphins that normally flowed from these sensations, and they arrived, but the feelings did not. There was no yearning for more, nor did the food bring a smile to his face.

  ‘Pete, how do you feel?’ Liz asked.

  Pete glanced at Bobby and measured how much he should say. ‘I’m not really feeling much of anything, but I don’t think that’s an improvement,’ he replied.

  ‘I made up a list of doctors you can see,’ Liz offered sympathetically.

  Bobby turned to Liz. ‘Mummy, why’s Daddy going to see a doctor? Is he sick?’ He turned to Pete. ‘Daddy, are you sick?’ he asked, concerned.

  Liz and Pete glanced at each other.

  ‘It’s OK, Bobby, Daddy’s just going for a check-up to make sure he’s healthy,’ Pete said reassuringly.

  ‘You should eat some spinach then. Here you go, Daddy,’ Bobby said, spooning some spinach onto Pete’s plate. ‘I know you don’t like it because you normally don’t eat it. But if you want to be healthy for your check-up tomorrow, you should eat it now,’ Bobby said, admonishing Pete.

  Liz laughed at Bobby’s precociousness and Pete was about to join her but felt a pang, like an athlete trying to flex a torn muscle. He winced and after a moment said, ‘You’re absolutely right, Bobby,’ forking some more spinach onto his plate, ‘and Daddy does eat most of his vegetables, so I should be very healthy. You have nothing to worry about.’

  5

  Blind date

  Pete parked his car in an open-air carpark and noticed that he was five minutes early. He sat in his car for a minute to gather his nerve and thought back to the long discussion with Liz about which psychiatrist he should see. They settled on Doctor Gabriel Ong.

  Doctor Ong had received several awards for his work, including disaster relief work during the Boxing Day Tsunami and more recently the Taliban Typhoon disaster in the Philippines. While Liz and Pete agreed that he was not facing such extreme circumstances, they both wanted someone with experience.

  Pete stepped out of his car and looked at the old army barracks that had been refashioned into office space. They were on top of a hill and low enough to allow a gentle breeze to add to the feeling of peace. His palms were sweating, and he recalled his anxiety about what to wear to his first session. In the end, he had opted for jeans and a polo shirt. Pete managed a small smile, which brought only a flicker of the pain he had felt the night before. I feel like I’m on a first date, he mused.

  His a
nxiety returned. What if Doctor Ong and I don’t click? Can I just walk away and politely promise to call, but not really mean it? Will he insist on making another appointment right away? That will place me in the awkward position of having to say, ‘Sorry, things just haven’t worked out.’ And can I go back to Liz and discuss another therapist? Or would she just sit me down and tell me that I can’t do any better than Doctor Ong and should just settle for him?

  Pete reached the office door, which had ‘Doctor Gabriel Ong’s Mind Academy’, written across it in warm yellow letters. Seems more like a place where people go for new age motivational seminars rather than a shrink’s office, Pete reflected.

  He stood for a moment. What if this Doctor Ong turns out to be a jerk? He pushed his way through the door. Ah, I’m not going to marry the guy, he reasoned.

  Pete was greeted by a pleasant-looking secretary who radiated an understated happiness, which he found reassuring. ‘Hello,’ she said.

  ‘Hi, I’m Peter Clarke. I have an eight o’clock appointment with Doctor Ong.’

  ‘Is this your first visit to Doctor Ong?’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ he replied

  ‘I’ll need you to fill out some paperwork before going in,’ the secretary said, passing Pete a clipboard and pen.

  ‘Thanks.’ Pete took the clipboard and looked around the waiting area, which was small but not cramped. He sat on a modest two-seater lounge and gazed around at the room, which was softly lit.

  Pete looked down at the paperwork. Hmmm, patient’s medical history, that’s easy enough. I’m pretty healthy, at least physically, Pete thought to himself as he quickly worked his way through the first page of the form. He then flipped over to the second page. OK, here we go – Depression Anxiety Stress Scales. Pete paused as he looked at the questionnaire asking him to rate from zero to three how much twenty one different statements applied to him over the past week by circling the appropriate number. He took a breath and began. Difficulty winding down…three. Dryness of mouth...hmmm not really, so zero. I tended to over react to situations. Well, Derek was a dick, but I guess I over reacted, so probably a two.