These strange steps

20

Week 1

The best surprise, and she means this in the most scathing way possible, arrives the next morning.

"You're not serious," she tells Kevin, who knocks on her door at around 9.30 and says that breakfast is downstairs.

She had a good night, with the sound of waves lulling her to sleep, and so the idea of minor communal breakfast is almost bearable. More than that, though, she really just needs her coffee, and-

"Hey, be glad you at least get to use real cutlery," he says, with a small shrug. "Up until a few years ago, it was no implements in places like these, no matter what you were in for."

"I have significantly less attachment to knives than I do to my morning coffee, okay?"

He laughs a little, and then gives her a look. "Did Dr. S give you the rundown of the reward system yet?"

She shakes her head. "Not really. I mean, I know phone and internet-"

"Yeah, that's like the start of it. I mean, we can give you whatever you want; you want a baby grand in here in the next two weeks, that's done, but only if you commit."

"To what?"

He sort of smirks at her. "Everything."

That's a big ask, for someone who's not committed to anything for so long-but at the end of the day she just has more pressing issues right now.

"Please tell me you're joking about the coffee, though."

He laughs and ushers her through to the dining room, which has a few people in it-including Adam Wakefield, and a guy she vaguely recognizes from one of the news channels she doesn't regularly watch-and a buffet-style breakfast bar that-fuck.

"Decaf," she says, flatly.

Kevin puts a hand on her shoulder. "Twenty seven days, Miss. And then you can have all the coffee you want in the world."

He's not wrong, and it's at the idea of Starbucks that she settles down at a table with a bowl of muesli and-God help her-a mug of something that tastes like, but definitely is not coffee, and her Kindle.

People are leaving well enough alone, and that's as pleasant a start as she's going to have to her days here.

...

Day 1

Going to breakfast; scale 1-10 about a 4, worsened by no coffee (you sadists) and presumption of being recognized. Went in anyway, had breakfast, was fine.

Going to CBT with Tony; scale 1-10 about a 5, worsened by idea of being tranqued like I'm an elephant and general unawareness of what is going on. Went in anyway, relaxed after about twenty minutes (approx).

Going to group. Scale 1-10 about a 7. Crowd, judgment, suddenly depressed. Anxiety did not wane. Did not speak, this made it better/worse. Was not ready to speak. Michelle seems nice. Listened to Adam talk about being recognized at airport. Anxiety peaked at this to about a 9 because I can relate. Took five deep breaths. Dug fingernails into hands. Did not help, had to go wash face and be alone.

Down time. Scale 1-10 about a 3. Constantly there because nothing to distract myself with. Could not focus on reading. Thought about internet time, relaxed a little, took a nap. Nap helped. Woke up feeling about 2.

Dinner. Scale 1-10 about a 7, felt exposed after group, did not want anyone to talk to me. Nobody did, ate a vegan ravioli that tasted like cardboard, relaxed a little.