Seventeen year old Safaya Bennett must navigate young adulthood under the stresses of her sins, her crumbling relationship with her twin sister, Rue, and a crippling mental disorder that makes her very dependent on her relationship with Nate Jacobs...
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"I think I'd like to hear, in your own words, why you're here today, Safaya."
I sat on the couch with my knees to my chest to bring some sort of comfort but nothing had been working. Dr. Brown sounded like she was light years away when really it was only six feet between her and I. I could only think about how I wanted to be back at home and curled up in my bed.
She knew why I had come to therapy. She knew my family was concerned for my mental health. She saw that my mom dragged me here even though I wanted to stay in bed. Why would she ask me to relive this nightmare?
I sighed. "I don't want to be rude. I just really do not want to talk to you right now."
It really was nothing personal. I hadn't been able to open up to anyone in years. The one person I really trusted was the lead trigger in what landed me in the hospital and landed me here. I didn't have it in my heart to trust anyone. I didn't even want to learn how.
"I know it's hard, experiencing what you've gone through, and I know you don't want to talk. But maybe it will help you work through some of that pain?"
I hated everything about this process. I hated talking about loss ever since my father died. Every girl says their Dad is their best friend but my Dad and I were different. He was the kindest, most thoughtful and understanding person. Not once did he yell at me even when I might have deserved it. He never made me feel small or unimportant. I know having twins was hard on him and my mom, especially the fact that we both had our own battles with mental illness that manifested itself in different ways. They never had free time but my Dad never made a fuss about me hanging onto his leg or always being around him. He was the first man in my life to love me, to truly care about me.
I'm beginning to think he will be the last.
Talking about things never helped me. And they certainly won't help me while I navigate another loss.
My teeth clamped down on each other. I tried everything to stop them from grinding but I couldn't help it. It had become a nervous habit within the past few months. Trauma had recently presented itself with an oral fixation and normally I would be chewing gum to please it, but I ate my last piece yesterday. I wanted to see Fez at his store and get more but I didn't have the time ... or the motivation.
I looked down at the sleeves of my Carhartt jacket, seeing the little white strands of cat hair on the black fabric. The jacket was three sizes too big on me, it was Nate's that I had hanging in my closet. I know I probably shouldn't be wearing it but for some odd reason I felt comfortable and safe with it.
"You know, my mom and sisters got me a kitten because they felt bad?" I said. "She's so tiny and fragile. She's only a month old and I've had her about two weeks, she never leaves my side."
"What's her name?" Dr. Brown asked, taking little notes on her pad of paper since we were having a breakthrough.
I shut my eyes. Trying to breathe but I felt like there was this huge weight on my chest holding me under. "Goldie and she's the light of my life." I shrugged. "I think my family thought that since my baby was gone, I needed something to take care of. Something that needed and depended on me. It's crazy because Goldie will lay in bed with me when I'm having my episodes and will watch TV with me until she falls asleep. I didn't grow up with pets so it's kind of a weird feeling."
