Lonely Hearts Won't Break

NINETEEN｜IT DON'T HAVE TO BE LONELY BEING ALONE

"So you paid for her entire center to be furnished and decorated?"

 I squinched my eyes, gauging the tone of her question. "Was I not...supposed to...?"

Dr. Solan scratched at her scalp as she adjusted the position in her seat, crossing her legs rigidly enough to support her notebook. The wrinkle in her brow tightened the longer the silence hung in the air like smoke, and it was a tad bit concerning.

For the last thirty minutes, everything had been gravy. We were discussing how co-parenting with Layla was going and the efforts I was taking to transition careers, or possibly juggling a second one. My thoughts were coherent and my assessment of each situation was pretty impressive, in my opinion. It might've even been enough to convince Dr. Solan to adjust the frequency of our appointments. Everything was unfurling smoothly until she randomly switched gears and started questioning me about Tatum.

"Yo, why'd you say it like that?"

"I just asked a question."

"Nah," I rubbed at the scruffy hair growing from my chin, peeping her dishonesty. "You asked that like the gesture is wild or something."

The small gulp of air she took before starting her explanation was telling. She thought I was crazy.

"Dallas, previously we've discussed the tendency you have to overcompensate in your relationships."

"Yeah."

"And we also discussed generosity. Many people claim to be altruistic but find themselves looking for something in return, even if it is further down the line. Your father, however, raised you to be generous without motive. Technically, he programmed you. These two attributes do not mesh well. It obstructs boundaries," she pointed out with her pen in hand. "That's if there are even any in place."

"So, you think me doing a solid for Tatum was actually me perpetuating a cycle. You think I did it so that I can prove my worthiness and in return she'd stay in my life for the long haul, and really that just paints me out to be a manipulator."

Dr. Solan laughed at my train of thought as I crossed my arms protectively over my chest. I was deadass though and honestly offended.

"Well, yes. You are continuing a cycle and it stems from you genuinely wanting to help your loved ones, but you also wanting to secure your presence in their  life," she corrected. "You unintentionally love bomb them by demonstrating your loyalty and, without question, just how far you're willing to go for them and just how much you can do for them. The difference is, your actions are rooted in insecurity due to trauma and not because you're abusive and are looking to control people."

"Eh. sounds like control to me, doc."

She shook her head. "Not quite. Abusers have the fate in their hands because of the control. In your case, your family and friends have it and you allow it out of desperation. You allow it because you don't want to lose them. You have what we call an insecure attachment style."

"Can the roles ever be reversed? Can't my desperation foster that need and one day I take fate into my own hands?"

"Absolutely, which is why therapy is so important."

"Mm. About this whole boundary thing, doc. It's hard," I admitted, sighing heavily. "I don't know how to say no to people I care about. I don't know how to not care."

"The key isn't to not care. The key is you and mindfulness. You must know yourself, your needs, what you will and won't tolerate. You must be in harmony with what you like, what angers you, what makes you uncomfortable, what makes you happy, what triggers you to the point you black out," Dr. Solan paused and the glare she shot my way was surely one of a disappointed mother. "We need to avoid those indefinitely, Dallas."