“You need to stop doing this, Alex.”
Psh. Sure. Like she knows what she's talking about. Just because she sits there with her pen and paper, scribbling little notes about my life, that doesn't give her the right to dictate to me how I should live it. Sure, she gets paid for this kind of shit. And sure, Dr. Hallet is written on the door. And on her desk. But who is she to control what I do?
“This is the fifth job you've gotten through in two years. Does that even matter to you?”
Honestly? No. Not really. Every time I've been fired, it's been for some half-ass reason. I looked at someone the wrong way. I hit them in the mouth. That kind of thing. It's never actually been my fault. Everything that happens has always been for a good reason. It's not my fault that my employers have all been a load of wank.
I'm a little gutted to have lost this job, though. I'm not good with people, so driving lorries was kind of perfect. And there was very little amount of interaction with men required. I just parked Daisy, let them deal with everything, signed a form and off I went. If I needed to talk to them, they wouldn't mess with me. I mean, come on. I drove a fucking lorry. Really want to mess with me?
Didn't think so.
“Are you even listening to me?”
“Yeah.”
“What have you got say for yourself, then?”
“He had it coming.”
He did. He shouldn't have come over to me. He should have stayed with his loud mouth friends, out of my way. His nose would have stayed in tact, that way. He wouldn't have needed to call up my boss to file a complaint. And, in effect, he wouldn't have gotten me fired.
“All he did was ask for a lighter, Alex.”
“But he shouldn't have.”
“No. You shouldn't have broken his nose. I thought we'd worked on your anger issues?”
Anger issues. That's a freaking understatement...
“I thought you were getting past your fear of men?”
“I was in a job where I didn't have to look at them. If you want to call that 'getting past' it, then suit yourself.”
She sighs. I get why she's frustrated. Dealing with a nutcase like me every week must be exhausting. Going round and round in circles every time I have a run in with a man. Each one always ending in disaster.
But I can't help it. I can't stop that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever one is near me. I can stop the itching in my palms as they converse in their packs around me. And I definitely can't stop my fist from flying out when they try and talk to me without good cause.
“I can't express how disappointed I am in you.”
Oh no. More disappointment. I'll just hang it up next to the rest of the times I've heard that word. I may as well have it tattooed across my forehead. That way, people will stop being surprised when I lash out.
“You take a two steps forward and five steps back, Alex. I think we've got you on the right track, and you go and do something stupid like getting yourself fired. I mean, just last week, you told me how much you love this job. What changed?”
“Nothing changed...”
“Had something happened before all of this? You haven't told me how you got to be stood outside in the first place. Did...did you have the dream again?”
I wondered when she would bring that up. There isn't one week where the topic of our conversations isn't revolved around the little girl in my head. I'm surprised that she hasn't been brought up a lot sooner...
