The Pain That Grows Us

Chapter Twelve

"How was the homework assignment Jack? Did you complete it?" Dr. Jeffery asks, crossing one leg over the other, as if he doesn't already know the answer. It's not like I'm trying to hide the envelope in my hand from him.

"If I say no, am I out of the program?" I ask, just to mess with him.

"Depends on how hard you tried." His answer is quick as if he was expecting me to ask him such a stupid ass question.

"I finished it late last night. I was having trouble finding my reasons." I don't know why I tell him the last part. Maybe it's because he is the only therapist I have had this far that actually cares, or maybe for the first time in a long time I feel like I will actually make some progress.

"Do you have a hard time seeing what everyone else sees?" His question is so left field I don't know how to answer. "When people tell you, you are alcoholic do you understand why? Or do you not understand why they would call you an alcoholic?"

No questions about why I drink, or what started my drinking. Just plain and simple do I see what other people are telling me. This is the kind of session I could get used to.

"I don't think I have a problem." the words are easier to admit to him.

"Then you have found your next homework assignment. I want you to write down at least two reasons why someone on your list has called you an alcoholic. If they haven't called you an alcoholic or told you that you have a problem, both are possible. I want you to give me two ways your drinking has negatively impacted them, if you need to give me more than that is fine as well. But unlike last time we will be going through the list together and discussing each reason. I want you to fully understand why you are here and what my daughter saw in you." he writes down a few notes in his notebook and I wonder if he has to keep track of what assignments he gives me and when. "Your brother called my office yesterday. Told me that you needed to be out of here before the new year." He looks at me, eyes searching mine.

"There are some... changes that are happening then and I need to be home for them." how exactly do you tell your therapist that your family is into some really shady shit and they need your help running the operation, therefore your healing has to be put onto the back burner or sped up to an impossible completion rate.

"Look Jack, I am going to be honest with you. I know all about your family and what they do. I also know that is part of the reason you are even in my office right now. If you want to get out of here by the new year that is up to you. As I have said before, your healing here takes as long as you make it. However, I don't think it is wise for you to rush things just because you feel like your family is more important than your health." he shuts his eyes pinching the bridge of his nose, "With that being said, if I have to let you have a three or four day outing while things settle I will allow that. I would rather turn a blind eye to activities I know nothing about than shut you out of my Recovery program when you need it most."

There are only a few times in life where I have been completely stunned into silence, this is one of those times. Too many people have turned their backs on me and my family because of what my father does, and I guess what I do now. If I had met Dr. Jeffery eight years ago would I be here in his office right now? Or would I be on a completely different path?

"Now that we have gotten that conversation out of the way, I do have some questions that I need you to answer. Again answer as honestly as you can, and if you don't know how to answer them then we can find out what you are having trouble with."

"What if I don't want to answer a question?"

"Then we can discuss that too. In one way or another I will receive an answer, the answer I receive however is completely up to you. This is your journey to healing after all." His brown eyes are kind as if he knows just how uncomfortable his questions are going to make me, and maybe he does. He is the professional afterall.