The Three Kings

Chapter 22

"I know it hurts, but I promise you this:
You will breath again, and you will
Breathe mor deeply than you ever have
Before."
-Faraway

__________
Hanna
__________

This was hopeless.

It was Wednesday and I had met with three psychiatrists, half of them, and I concluded that none of them would work.

The first one I met with on Monday. He was an older man with, greying beard and receding hairline. His personality was one that I hated: boorish and dull and he kept giving me "I feel..." statements. Which pissed me off, because half the time I didn't even know how I felt. I had gotten so good at repressing them that I didn't notice them. He was not an option.

The one I met with on Tuesday was decent enough. He was younger, perhaps in his mid-thirties. He was well educated and smart but had a pretentious feel about him. I knew that if I told him anything, he'd make me feel even worse about myself. He probably had a luxurious office with a lot of degrees and he just knew that he was the smartest person in the room. He wasn't an option.

And today, the nice lady was good. She seemed to care about her patients and their well-being. She was happy and bubbly. Too happy and bubbly. I couldn't do that. I couldn't show up to an appointment with her and talk about my feelings. I'd lie to her and tell her that everything was fine and good because she was just so fucking happy. I would feel guilty about making her sad. She wasn't an option.

"Well, I hope you have a lovely day, Hanna! And I hope you can get the help that you need."

"T-thank you," I mumbled, but she was already gone. I closed the laptop, leaning back on the couch, already ready to back to bed and lie down.

This was hopeless. I am too picky and too judgmental. At this rate, I wasn't going to find one. I was going to have to suffer in silence until I die. Goddess, why was this so hard? Why couldn't I have just stuck with my old therapist?

Sighing, I collapsed deeper into the couch and ran my hands over my face. I wanted to curl up on this couch with the laptop and watch cooking shows. I didn't have the mental space to do anything else at the moment, but I also knew that I needed to check in with King Sebastian.

Over our dinner date thing, I convinced King Sebastian that Samson didn't need to follow me around. I was safe in the house, and if anything were to happen, all I had to was yell. Plus, Samson's abilities go far beyond babysitting. King Sebastian was wasting his talents. There was a reason why he hired Samson, and it wasn't so he could be a glorified babysitter. But, with that came the fact that I would have to check in with King Sebastian now and again. Which I didn't mind. It helped especially if I was having an off day. Like today apparently.

Meeting with therapists was always stressful. It brought up bad memories that I suppressed because I knew that at some point I would have to talk about them. I would have to talk about my feelings and try to explain them. I would have to talk about the trauma. I would have to talk about everything. Opening myself up to someone was never easy. Sam, Jordan, and Julia don't even know the true extent of things.

And now, if I found one I liked enough, I would have to bare my soul to them; tell them my deepest and darkest secrets.

Knowing that that could be my future made me want to hide in my room and binge-watch cooking shows. But I couldn't. So, with great reluctance, I stood from the couch, grabbed the laptop, and left the library.

I had made it about halfway through the foyer when the front door opened wide and King Alexander with King Xavier stepped through. They froze when they caught sight of me. I had already stopped dead in my tracks the minute the door open, and when they walked in, I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. My instincts told me to run, but I was too surprised to do anything but stand and stare.