The 12 Steps

Step 2

Step 2: Hope - Believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity

Song: Eyes On Fire by Blue Foundation

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L I A M

Some people have yoga to help clear their minds. Maybe even solve their problems.

Not me. I have a therapist named Max. He was my eighth therapist in two years.

I'd rather have yoga.

Or a dog. Yeah, maybe a dog.

A dog named Max has a nice ring to it.

I'll never forget our first session but I'll keep trying. He laid down three ground rules that he believed were the key elements of therapy or at least, therapy with me.

Rule #1: Secrets were not allowed. He said that keeping secrets prevented exploring the larger picture, though I didn't see the big whoop.

Rule #2: No walking out during a session. This one led to consequences, he didn't explain much about what those 'consequences' were but I have a feeling he was only saying this to scare me.

And rule #3: Make an effort. I thought this rule was stupid and one I seemed to break all the time.

After laying down the 'foundation' of our sessions as he put it, Max asked me a lot of questions. I didn't like his questions and he didn't like my answers. I only responded with, "I don't know. I can't remember." Sometimes I would say, "I'm not sure" just to spice things up.

I don't think he appreciated that. "You can't seem to remember a lot of things, can you, Liam?"

"The mind is a mysterious place," I said. It wasn't a secret that I didn't like him.

He was quiet for a moment as he looked at me, then clicked his pen and nodded. He was trying to read me. He was relentless, I'll give him that — but I don't like relentless people. Optimistic? Sure. I can handle that since I wouldn't say I'm a pessimistic person. I just don't like what I don't like.

"What do you remember about that night?" Max asked me.

Relentless, I tell ya.

"Nothing," I said, pulling the lint off my pants. "I don't remember anything."

"Nothing at all?"

I just looked at him. When he realized I wasn't going to say anything he nodded, "Your mother says you've been having nightmares. Can you tell me about that?"

"Yeah, of course," I scooted to the edge of the chair. "If I can remember them since I haven't had them in a long time."

He smiled at my response and put down his pen, "It's okay if you're angry with me."

"I'm not angry with you."

"You sound a little angry."

"I'm not."

"Who are you angry at?"

"Nobody."

"Can I be honest with you, Liam?"

"You will be even if I say no."

"I don't think you're being honest with yourself. I think you're really angry."

I think I'm going to say some not-so-nice words if he doesn't stop talking.

I rolled my eyes and looked over at the Mahogany clock that leaned against the wall. The ticking sound was the only interesting thing in this room. Was it five feet tall? No, six feet tall.