Down For The Count

Family Therapy

Paisley's POV

There's only one thing on this planet worse than therapy, and it's called family therapy.

For families that can't seem to get to the root of the problem, for families who are having serious communication issues, serious problems.

We seem to check every box in regards to that criteria.

I was ecstatic to learn that Dr. Conan doesn't just offer single therapy sessions, she administers family therapy sessions too.

Amazing.

The room was tense, and awful. Lin and Vanessa sat on one side of the table,
me on the other, and Dr. Conan sat at the end of the table between us like some sort of peacemaker.

"I think it's most important to remember that trauma from the past is always a part of the present." Dr. Conan lectured to the three of us. "If we can recognize and name the trauma, we can build trust and reduce conflict."

I watched as she looked at me almost expectantly, and I couldn't help but frown.

"Seriously? You want me to...to talk about my trauma?"

"We can ease into it if you'd rather do that?" Dr. Conan asked. But apparently it wasn't up to me, because she began to speak as I opened my mouth to answer. "Okay, wonderful. Let's start off simple. What's the happiest thing you can think of? The happiest moment of your life."

"Don't have one." I answered, Dr. Conan's eyebrow shooting up.

"I find it hard to believe you don't have a single happy moment in your fifteen years of life."

"I find it hard to believe that you're such an unpleasant person." I mumbled.

"Paisley." Lin and Vanessa both were quick to warn me.

"No, no, that's alright. Let her dish it out. That's how we get to the good stuff, by sorting through the bad bits first." Dr. Conan smiled, only making me dislike the woman even more. "I just want one. One happy, purely blissful memory."

I sighed, closing my eyes and trying to rack my brain, searching for the happy memories that I have stored.

One happy, purely blissful memory.

"The zoo." I said quietly, opening my eyes as I set my gaze on the table. "My dad took me to the Brooklyn Zoo once when I was in first grade. He took the day off. I got to leave school early, and he picked me up, and...and it was just the two of us."

I couldn't help the small smile on my lips as I recalled the memory.

I miss that day, and despite my dislike for my father, I would do anything to relive that day again.

When you're six, you don't have to worry about anything. Your biggest problems are what ice cream flavor to pick and what color balloon you want from the zoo gift shop.

When you're six, you don't have to think about the future. You're too tiny to comprehend that maybe Mommy and Daddy screaming at each other every night isn't a good thing. You don't have to worry about what happens if Daddy decides to randomly leave you, you don't have to worry about what happens if Mommy dies.

You have to worry about memorizing your weekly spelling lists and learning how to correctly tie your shoes before second grade begins.

"And what about your worst memory?" Dr. Conan prompted, drawing me back to reality.

"There's...no way I can pick just one." I winced a little, my brain finding far too many results for this question. My life is purely terrible things, I can't narrow it down.