Behind every mean girl...there's a tragedy

Here to help

  "We requested a session with Dr. Frey for you," my mom says as soon as I answer the cell phone she had paid the staff to let me use. "She agreed to go the hospital to meet you so be ready for her, today."

"You managed to book a session for the next day with one of the most prestigious therapists in San Francisco in less than 24 hours. Wow, Steven's pocket must deeper than I thought."

"We've actually booked the session since the first day you've been admitted..." she stops mid-sentence.

Now she's reluctant to say what she's done out loud. "To the crazy people hospital. You can say it mom, it's not like I can chop you into little pieces." The only people I actually want to chop off are the Reel brothers. I feel bad for their mother and mine.

"Your father has been wanting to visit you," she bluntly ignores my rudeness. She's finally learning, now let's just make her do the same with Steven. "I don't know why he hasn't. He called us to let us know he was going to but according to the hospital, he was a no show."

That's because he really does not want to see my face. It takes a very high concentration of rudeness to get my father pissed off and I think I know when I passed the limit.

"Don't worry, he's going to come eventually. If there's anyone your father will never stop fighting for, it's you." I detect a hint of hurt and disgust in her voice.

Did I have it wrong all of these years? Was my father the one who gave up in their marriage? I know for certain that my mom is the one who filed for divorce but maybe she had an ulterior motive other than to be another statistic of failed marriages. Sometimes, I breakup with a guy just to witness the thrill of him fighting to win me back. Maybe that was my mom's intentions but knowing my dad, stunts like that are bound to backfire.

"I got to go mom, they'll isolate me if I'm late, again."

"I love you," she says before I hear the beeping sound indicating the end of the call.

I don't like it when she tells me she loves me because it feels like a white lie. I don't like white lies. They're deceiving. If those jeans make me look fat, tell me. Don't downplay it because you can't out-lie a professional liar.

I try to forget the conversation but in less than an hour, I'm being called in a private office for a mandatory meeting. I walk in the small office only to find Dr. Frey sitting behind a desk with a folder in her hands.

"Rachel, have a seat," she signals to the chair in front of me. "I hope we'll get somewhere, today."

I should stop being rude to her. She's only doing her job, never mind how annoying her job is. Seriously, why would somebody wants to sit in an office listening to other people's problems all day? I know I don't.

"How have you been?"

"Good," I answer before I change my mind and stay mute for another session.

She smiles encouragingly at me. "Good, that's nice to hear."

"Do you like it here?"

"It's not as bad as I expected but..." I struggle to keep going.

"But?..." She glances at me with encouragement and the large expectations I've always feared.

"I don't deserve to be here," I admit. "I'm not crazy."

"Nobody is saying that."

"You don't have to say it. You sent me to a freaking nut house," I shout.

"You being here has nothing to do with your family or anyone else thinking that you're crazy," she explains. "Everyone has their own demons but some of us need additional help to be able to fight those nuisances in our lives."