𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒 & 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆

03 | support system

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒

"How is the—"

"The week going?" I interrupt her. I already knew what she would say because it's how we start every session. She knew I wouldn't be the first to speak up and that's how she chose to start it every time.

She put on a small smile "Yes, how is it going?"

I stare into her eyes for a bit longer and shrug "It's going, isn't that all that matters"

"Well, it depends on how you spend your time" She had a soothing voice, one that will make anyone want to open up and she knew how to hold back unwanted expressions. She always had a sincere look, like she really cared about me but then I realize this is what she is paid to act like. Like she cares.

I was aware that anyone that goes into this field has to care to do what they do and choose it for a reason but there has to be some irritation on her side when she had to deal with people like me, right? Completely closed off and continues to lie, to her and my parents.

"How about we start with home life, how is that? Did anything change?"

"No, my mom and dad are still treating me like I'll run away again," I said "Oh, and they have my little sister check in on me every night," I said in a slightly irritated tone.

I watch her write this down. She didn't tell my parents what went on in this room but still, I think saying things out loud made them real and it wasn't like I was fully unaware of what I was doing. I knew I had horrible habits and maybe an addiction to the feeling of freedom. The way I tried whatever can give me that feeling, was to make whatever was trapped in my mind loose for at least a few hours.

"How does that make you feel?"

I look down at the carpeted floor "Trapped" I let the words leave my lips. I said I lied to her but mostly about my late-night rendezvous. Sometimes—Not often but I do let her in my mind. I do want to get better, but why was it so hard to allow that for myself?

She was silent, letting my mind fill up with things I was ready to throw out onto the table so she can dissect each word and label me a problem. Well, maybe not that but that's what I label myself. A problem—someone that can never get their act together because they are just never satisfied—or at least that's what my older brother said to me.

"Why does that make you feel trapped?"

"It just does," I said, looking back at her. My voice raised slightly but still, her face remained neutral "It just does" I repeated lowly.

She puts her notebook down and looks at me "Jisung, Your parents want to see you get better. That's why they have you come to me to talk about these feelings you don't talk to them about"

"I already know this"

She nods softly and continues "Change doesn't come from others telling you that you need it, change comes from you telling yourself and giving in to that change"

"I'm here aren't I?" I said, but I knew deep inside that these sessions didn't really help me.

"Yes, you are but the change we need in this room is for you to open up, let me in and let me try and help you"

"I don't need help!" I stood up and looked at her while she watched me "I-I'm fine and everybody is overreacting" I said lowly, walking to the door "I'll see you next week"

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒

The door opens to reveal a confused Minho. "Slow down there sweetheart," He says as I push past him.