I'll Be Your Gerard If You'll Be My Frank

Therapy Helps?

{Gerard's POV}

"You're doing well, Gerard. Just another two pounds to go. Then you can go home."

I nodded, vaguely taking in what she was saying.

"That's a good thing you know."

I looked up at her.

She was smiling at me.

I merely shrugged which caused her to frown.

"Do you not want to go home?"

"Of course I do. I just..."

I stayed quiet.

"You can tell me, Gerard. After all, I'm here to help."

Since when did therapy help?

It had definitely never helped me before that's for sure.

I took a deep breath before speaking again, "I guess I just feel empty. I feel like a failure."

"Why?" She jotted something down on the clipboard in her hands.

I looked at my feet again.

"Eating makes me a failure. I don't want to be a failure."

"I see," She nodded.

I looked back down.

"We need to understand why this is, Gerard. Eating is a perfectly normal thing. You need to do it to survive. I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do about that."

See what I mean?

Therapy's a complete waste of time.

"The only person that can help you, is you. Of course you can get lots of support from the hospital and your family and friends. But until you want to recover and are determined to, nothing can be done."

Okay...

I kind of understood what she meant.

"Do you want to recover, Gerard?" She stared me down.

"I... I don't know."

That part was true.

I wasn't sure I wanted to try and get better.

I mean, this had been my way of life for so long.

Anything different felt strange.

"I would say, is there anyone you'd like to recover for? But, the only person you can really recover for is yourself."

I'd never thought of it like that before.

"After all, there's no point getting better just to get bad again."

"I guess..."

She had a point.

I was just kidding myself getting better.

If I didn't really want to, I would most probably turn to old habits.

"Why did you agree to come here? To come to the hospital?"

"I didn't really have any choice," I muttered.

Instead of writing that down, she shook her head and said, "I don't think that's the reason you agreed. Think hard. What was the reason?"

I was quiet for a moment before replying, "I um... I guess... I was just tired of being fucked up. I want to be normal. Happy."

I hadn't actually realised this before.

It kind of surprised me that it had taken me this long to admit it.

"What's your definition of normal, Gerard?" She pressed on, pen at the ready.