Morons in Love

Therapists with Feelings

POV: Moon Faze
"Sometimes things happen and they change us forever, we can't control the world. We can only make decisions and hope and hope and hope some more.

My dad's death changed me, it scared me. Badly. I was only thirteen, freshly thirteen, we always expected the cancer to take him but it still hurt. Worse than anything I ever felt, hearing my Dad was dead afflicted physical pain on me, I didn't talk to anyone for two weeks, not even Mom.

I'm scared of losing people.

Even the people who put my groceries into a bag pose some significance to me. The only two people other than Mom that really know me are Nic and Nora, they've been my best friends since we were born. Our parents went to school with each other, it's always been like we were one big happy family. I just wish Dad was still here to be a part of that family.''

The therapist is still looking at me like I'm supposed to say more, but there's nothing more. This is the same thing I've told the other two therapists I went to and they've all had that same "there's more" face, but just like the other two I don't plan on adding to the story.

Surprisingly her face softens and she says, "That sounded very well rehearsed", "practiced on the way here?" She says it in such a cool neutral tone that I don't know whether I love or hate her.

I smile a little, "Nope came up with it as I went along." I'm lying. I rehearsed in my head in the car.

She writes something down in her little notebook, I hate that little notebook. Do all therapists just have the same stupid little notebook?

"Maybe that worked with your last two therapists but not with me, I'm not going to let you push me away"

Maybe I hate her but I'm not coming back here again so I don't care.

"Of course you're not because you have to fix me, you know to make sure I don't go crazy again. Right?" I'm kinda pissed now because why is she acting like she actually cares. If my mother heard the tone I was using she'd have me buried next to my Dad.

She smiles lightly like she expected that response like she's ok with me speaking to her like that.

She shakes her head a little, "I'm not here to fix you, just to help you." It would be easier to hate her if she weren't so nice.

"I never asked for your help, I don't want it."

"Sometimes you need something you don't want. And maybe you think you don't need any help either but your mother thinks so. I talked to her, she seems like a good person and she cares about you." Blah Blah Blah, I've heard all of this before, twice and I'm tired of it. The sooner I leave this place the better.

"My mother is a good person, she's the best person I know." I pause for a few seconds and Naomi Lee, that's the therapist's name, thinks she's won but she has not.

I pick up on my sentence "but sometimes even the best people make the wrong calls, like sending their daughter to therapy."

She writes something in the stupid little notebook then closes it and puts it on her little counter.

She looks at me straight in the eye, if this were a horror movie, she would be the killer.

"Maybe the other two therapists didn't want to deal with your stubbornness but I have the time and I have the patience. I'm not here to fix you, I'm here to help you. You may not think you need it nor do you want it but you've had 5 panic attacks this month and it's the ninth of the month, you refuse to go into any clinic or the general hospital, and you seem to have abandonment and attachment issues. And those things aren't even the worst of your problems, your worst problem is the fact you're aware of all of this but refuse to let anyone help you."