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Syira sat in a comfortable spinning chair across from her therapist named Kaitlyn. She was a middle aged white woman who seemed to actually have a lot of similarities with Syira, which made it easier for the two to bond and talk to each other.
Yes, Syira was a black woman while Kaitlyn was a white woman, very big differences. But when it came to their personalities traits, the things they went through as kids, and even little things like their favorite color or favorite thing to do, they were alike.
It was crazy to Syira because at first, she didn't think she was going to have a good experience with the lady. Because she was white. Like she always said, she never had good experiences with white people. But she didn't judge a book by its cover, she didn't judge her. She came with an open mindset and things were going well.
Syira started therapy after Joel suggested it. He said that he was doing it while in prison because prison was a dark place for him. He claimed that therapy was the only thing he looked forward to while in prison. It was free too.
Syira was nervous to try it but she honestly wanted to try it. She wanted to do whatever to help her from the constant pain she was going through. She knew grief was hard but the way she was grieving wasn't healthy, everyone including herself could tell.
She'd have her days when she would isolate herself from literally everyone. That was fine with everyone, if she wanted space she could get it. But then it got concerning when she would forget to eat, sleep, and sometimes even keep up with her hygiene. She was slowly but surely becoming depressed and nobody wanted that for her.
They didn't even let that go on for a full 2 weeks before they suggested therapy and she started doing it. 2 weeks in and she honestly felt like it was helping. Not only that, she started doing hair to occupy her time when she wasn't working.
"So on a scale to one to ten... how much do you think you've improved with grieving?" Kaitlyn asked Syira who was eating from a bag of Barbecue Lays.
"I'll give it a 6.5 or 7. To be honest, I don't think it'll ever be a 10. Because nobody can ever fully be done grieving, you know? Even if you accept the fact that someone is dead, grief is always gonna be there. There's always gonna be a time when I'm like damn... I wish my brother was here," She said and Kaitlyn nodded with a slight smile, loving how wise she was with her words.
