therapy sessions + celebrations

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"No Wi-Fi!"

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"No Wi-Fi!"

Adora sighs, "It automatically goes off after 9pm, sorry. It doesn't come back on until 7am or so."

I groan in frustration. The Wi-Fi was always on when I was a kid. We would stay up late watching music videos on YouTube when we weren't supposed to.

"Look, you're not here to be on your phone the whole time." she bites.

"Well, I didn't come to spend it with all these people."

Adora laughs, and straightens her purple wool sweater. We're sitting in the backyard, on old grey rocking chairs. Two cups of Earl Grey tea sit in front of us. There's a blue morning sky with a warm beaming sun.

"Did you come here for an escape, or for help?"

I stare at her in surprise at her words.

"You didn't have to haul yourself to Cork if you were going to stay closed in. I could have sent you to a damn hospital. You got cuts on your arms?"

"Adora!"

Aggravated doesn't even suffice for how I'm feeling.

"Don't yell at me girl. This is what the doctors would ask you. Do you cut? Take antidepressants?"

I tell her I don't take anything, since I refused any medications the doctors recommended. As for my arms, I didn't have to say anything for her to know. Of course she knows.

"Nor girl, I'm not letting you deteriorate and throw your life away. Consider this your therapy session, for the whole summer. There are some things I'm going to make you do, or say, that will make you feel uncomfortable. But you will never get better if you don't face those demons. And that includes people, like your family."

I take a sip of steaming tea, and it fails to relax me. 

Why is it so hard to want to live?

Adora sees my questioning look and asks what's on my mind.

"I wish we weren't talking about this. I hate being in this position. I guess I want my old life back or something."

"You mean when you were a child?"

I nod.

"Babe, it's time to be an adult. The problem is you didn't have a smooth transition into adulthood. You were miles away from your family, your home. Twisting your body everyday in a competitive environment. Of course it wasn't easy. But you can't let that define you. There's still people that love you here."

I then share more of how I have been feeling over the years and the things that happened to me in Toronto. 

The silver knife sits on the cutting board, taunting me. My body tells me to reject the feelings, but I don't listen. Next thing you know, my arms are violated and decorated with scars. Scars of my silence, my pain. Unfortunately, it can't ease the dread of going to that school.

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