Media Secret: Hidden Johansson

Dr Fletcher.

I couldn't bring myself to go home looking like a complete mess last night so I text my mum to say I was staying a Bries, instead, I drove the truck to the Dr's offices and parked next to the closest wall and jumped in the back seat staring up at the stars in the sky letting out any tear I could muster before eventually falling asleep in the back seats. I was woken up by the sunrise coming into the car and I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes before jumping back into the front seat to look at my appearance in the mirror and god did I look like shit. Huge dark circles under my eyes that you could honestly mistake for someone punching me on both eyes, the puffy swollen eyelids that close slower than normal, the redness in my cheeks and nose still more obvious than normal, I sighed running my hand through my hair and looked at the time. I had 10 minutes before the appointment, I put on my sunglasses this time just to hide my eyes rather than avoid paparazzi. I headed inside and check-in at the reception the large dark oak desk spread along the white back wall, I quickly made my way to the bathroom to splash some water on my face to see if it would help and try and tame my messy hair. After no success in improving my appearance other than my hair, I headed back outside with my sunglasses back on and sat in the waiting room to be called.

"Thomas?" The same light-hearted voice I came to learn as Steph's called out to me as I looked up I saw the raven-haired woman stood in her business attire of a plain black skirt and a purple spotted blouse, I stood up following her into her office. I often only saw it on zoom other times she would travel to the UK. She motioned to the black couch next to the bookcase as she sat at her own opposite me.

"You know when people experience traumatic events they tend to go to therapy more regularly rather than stop completely" She scolded crossing over her legs pulling her notepad into her lap.

"It's nice to see you too Steph."

"I am serious it been over a month and what you look like utter shit, so please enlighten me," She said tapping her pen on her pad raising her eyebrows at me.

"Well, the last few weeks have been a bit busy... I had a chance to breathe-"

"And all of your walls caved in on each other?" I nodded at her, she has been my therapist for a while to the point we had become friends she knows that when I don't reach out I am usually okay and when I need her that I can't cope but need a healthy outlet.

"We went over this months ago, you can't keep putting up walls, want to tell me why?"

"Because one day will have put up so many temporary walls, the day they all fall could be the day I don't get back up again" I mumble looking down at my arm tracing along the wing.

"I don't want to have to call your dad when you don't show up at least once every six weeks but-"

"They died in my arms Steph! I could have saved them if I woke up quicker, ALL of us would have made it out alive. I have nightmares seeing it happen over and over. I was discharged after that mission, their funeral was the day before my last day in England, I carried each one of their coffins. They are buried in the ground while I was given a gold medal they called me a 'Hero'." My eyes are swelling and my voice now cracking with each word Steph just watched me I haven't heard her pen touch the pad once.

"You are allowed to cry Tom, no one is going to think any less of you. Take off the sunglasses" I throw my head backstopping the tears from falling as I take off my sunglasses and throwing them next to me.

"I know you don't want to look at me. What's the mantra you mother came up with when you where younger."

"Crying is a sign of strength, not of weakness" I tilt my head up as I hear my voice shake and I look over at her and her week smile is a small thank you.