(thank you di for helping me while I was being a dumby and not knowing how to write abahgah)
𝘼𝙨𝙝𝙩𝙤𝙣
I was scrolling through social media when I find a therapist's post on Instagram saying she just had a therapy group with some teenagers
how the fuck can someone talk about their problems in front of strangers so easily? I won't mind having a therapist honestly, but like a private one, in a room, I won't just sit in a group of teenagers and say that I got cheated on and was harassed before. How the fuck do you say that to a group of strangers and not feel worthless?
thinking about it, maybe I do need a therapist, I go on the therapist's feed to check her out
you're not alone❤️ in her bio, classic cringey 11 year old kid. But, I decide to message her anyway.
ashtonirwin: hi
julia_emeterio: hi!
we love a fast replier
ashtonirwin: how can I get an appointment with you? how much does it cost?
I send that message hoping it doesn't cost much because we already have some money issues and yes I have a job but we all help each other whenever we can and I'm not asking someone for money because that's selfish and I don't want to feel useless more than I already do.
julia_emeterio: I'm free in a couple of hours, around 7 p.m. You can come if you'd like. I'll send you my office address. About the money, an hour costs 25 dollars.
ashtonirwin: yeah, I'll make sure to be there in time. Thank you, ma'am
julia_emeterio: just call me Julia, love
ashtonirwin: okay, Julia :)
julia_emeterio: do you keep a journal, Ashton? If you do, would you mind bringing it with you? I'd love to know what you may think of and would love to know you more
ashtonirwin: yeah, sure. I'll make sure to bring it with me. Thank you again, Julia.
julia_emeterio: you're welcome, Ashton. I'll be waiting for you, honey❤️
she actually seems super nice I'm kind of excited to see her. I know what she looks like from her profile picture, her lips are supporting a full bright smile, a genuine one. You could tell she likes being professional from the plain white shirt that's underneath a black blazer she's wearing.
"who are you analyzing?" Luke comes in the room giggling as he sits behind me squishing my cheeks making me chuckle lightly "what if I tell you I'm analyzing a therapist?" I mumble, showing him her picture
"she looks classy" he mumbles "why are you looking at her feed anyway?" he scoffs
"it's important to analyze adults, they do it to us too" I shrug
"I guess that's right" he giggles "so, you're going to a therapist?" he mumbles "want me to come with you?"
"okay" I smile "she asked for my journal" I mumble
"can I read some of it?" he looks at the black notebook next to me "yeah" I whisper.
"dreams" he reads the title of the page. I like to title my pages, is that weird? But, wow Luke's voice is so peaceful
I remember that day when I woke up at 3 am from a nightmare to write about a thought I had in my journal as I'm panting and finding it hard to breath
flashback
I wake up shaking, my neck is drenched with sweat and the air is torn out of my lungs. I find it hard to breath but I get a grip when I notice my pants are too loud and I'm waking Luke up, he sleeps like an angel next to me. So, I decide to write it down. Once, my hand starts writing in cursive letters with my black pen in my notebook, it's like I can't stop.
"if you think about it dreams are pretty weird. It's something uncontrollable but yet it's still only in your mind, not anyone else's but, you still can just never control it. Dreams are kind of cruel, they're unpredictable, surprising or shocking maybe even haunting and I don't like any of these words. I like it when things are predictable. Surprises might be good, might be bad. I'd love a good surprise but I won't like to get my hopes up for a good surprise for it to end bad. When I think of the word shocking I feel violence and I'm not a fan of violence espically not when it's in my dreams and mind while I can't do anything about it. Haunting, may be one of the scariest words in the English vocabulary if you ask me. I don't like that word, I've had haunting dreams, ones I'd hate to talk about or ones that will keep me awake at night making me fear of experiencing them again. I don't want to dream anymore because the thought of a dream that may haunt me till I'm old and my face is full of wrinkles scares the fuck out of me"
flashback over
"Ash, when was that?" he asks without thinking of looking at the date. I love that boy, he's silly but at the same time he's so mature. I love how he can go from dancing around the room in nothing but a loose shirt to him having a whole therapy session with you and make you feel like you're the most important person out there. I love him so much, sometimes it hurts how much love I have for him.
"couple days ago" I shrug, deciding to just ignore him because I don't want to talk about it
"you can just tell me to stop talking if you don't wanna talk about it" he mumbles, setting the notebook aside
"I'm fine, let's just go" I mumble, wanting to eat before a woman stares at me while she tries to diagnose me with some shit I never even heard about.
couple hours later, and the only words I remember coming out of Julia's mouth are "I'm sorry, Ashton. But you have post traumatic stress disorder" and I remember feeling dizzy in Luke's arms but he takes me home and puts me to sleep.
am I really that fucked up that a therapist could diagnose me with a disorder from the first hour she sees me in? Just a teenager sitting in a leather chair while a therapist judges him from the first time she takes a look at him.
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I wanna delete that chapter from how horrible it is but we're gonna pretend it's good.
anyway, hope you liked it.
love you all <3
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