ALL I WANT #1

Chapter 23 : Starting somewhere.

Song recommendation: The Seed - Aurora.

Chapter Twenty-Three.

"Don't waste your time in anger, regrets, worries, and grudges. Life is too short to be unhappy."

-Roy T. Bennett

***

Some things in life are bound to be awkward, regardless of the circumstances.

I had low expectations for tonight's Thanksgiving dinner, and the mere thought of it gave me crippling anxiety.

I snapped the bright yellow scrunchy around my wrist, trying to steady my shaking leg. When I mustered the courage to look at Dr. Karl, he was waiting for me to begin speaking.

"I don't know, doc. My life's pretty boring. I can't think of anything interesting right now," I said, though I knew I was lying through my teeth.

To give you an idea of how I was feeling, I was like a pressure cooker filled to the brim, ready to explode at any moment.

My nights had been awful due to recurring nightmares about Baxter. My brain was more unpredictable than ever, and it terrified me.

On top of everything, I wasn't doing well in school. And then there was the looming Thanksgiving dinner with the man who walked out on me years ago.

Unable to contain the sudden surge of anxious energy rushing through me, I stood up from the leather chair, feeling like I was trying to escape my own thoughts.

"I'm good. Really, I'm perfect. I have friends, I'm doing the exercises we've been working on, I take my meds every day. Oh, and I'm up to two runs a day now. It helps me unwind before bed and start the day off right. I'm taking small steps to make myself feel better. So yeah, I'm great," I blurted out, my words racing ahead of my thoughts.

I was out of breath, and I knew I had made a total fool of myself because there was no way he'd believe me.

Dr. Karl's blank stare pinned me in place, halting my frantic pacing. I felt unmistakably called out.

I nervously combed my fingers through my hair. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

He closed his notepad, stood up, and fixed his serious gaze on me. "Do you want to be here, Quynn?" he asked.

What does that even mean?

Why is he asking me that?

Is he trying to trick me with some pseudo-psychological bullshit?

"I'd rather be healthy and therapy-free, if that's what you're asking," I replied.

He shook his head. "No, that's not what I'm asking. Do you want to come here? To get help at all? Because I've been treating you for the past five months, and it feels like all you do is run and hide. I've been waiting for something, a breakthrough or one tiny moment when you would let me help you and finally trust me, but you never did."

My heart quickened its pace, and an overwhelming feeling of entrapment washed over me. I moved backward, clasping my arms around my middle, seeking some comfort.

"Therapists aren't supposed to talk to their patients like that," I said, shaking my head.

He agreed with a nod. "You're right. And I've been trying to stay unbiased, but it's been months. Yet, I've never gotten to know the real you. The therapist in me didn't want to confront you; the human being, though? It hurts to see such a young, promising girl turn down every help she can get," he said, his face twisted into a genuine expression of distress and anger as he looked at me.