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STAR If someone told me ten years ago that I would be a married mental health therapist with three kids under ten years old, I would look at them like they're insane.
My first born; my sweet little Ariana. She just turned eight years old last month. She's such a mix of both me and her father; she loves music and she loves helping others.
My middle child; my six year old Jabari. He's the child that doesn't give a fuck about shit. He's the badass comedian of the family.
And then my little baby; my four year old Theodore. He's just the sweetest little thing.
My husband Dave and I met nine years ago and started dating almost instantly. Gosh, I just love that man. He's just fucking perfection.
Dave and I ended up getting married a little bit after Ariana turned one. We've been married and happy ever since.
While I'm a mental health therapist, Dave is a music engineer.
"Thank you for coming in today for your session, Clarence. I'll see you next Tuesday in the morning."
I informed one of my patients Clarence White. Clarence served time in jail for ten years for a crime he didn't even do. His friends set him up and got away with it.
"Thank you, Star. I'll see you next week."
Clarence smiled and walked out of my office. Logging into my laptop, I started searching to see if I had any new emails. I had plenty of new emails, but one specifically caught my eye.
Dear Mrs, Brewster,
My name is Jayden Brown. I have an older brother whose name is Chris Brown. He REALLY needs some help. I'm doing everything that I can to make sure my older brother doesn't end up locked back up, or worse, dead on the corner somewhere.
Chris has been through a LOT of trauma throughout his life. I just want to finally see my brother happy as he can be. No pain, no suffering, just happiness. It's hell seeing him struggle so bad, and I can't do anything about it.
If you're interested in helping my brother out, you can contact me with my phone number. I did a lot of research, and I heard that you're one of the best therapists in Los Angeles.
(310)-814-2610
Thank you again,
Jayden Brown
I feel this man's pain. I feel all of my patient's pain. It's also a brave action to reach out for help, especially when you're at your lowest.
Taking a deep breath, I picked up my cell phone and dialed the number that was in the email. It took three rings before I got an answer.
"Hello?"
"Good afternoon. I just got an email from someone named Jayden Brown. Is this the right number?"
"Oh, yeah! I'm surprised you actually got back to me. This is Star Brewster, right?"
"Yes, sir. I read your email, and I felt like I had to contact you back as soon as possible. So what's going on?"
"It's my brother Chris. He suffers from depression, anxiety, bipolar, anger issues, and post traumatic stress disorder. He's been locked up every few months of his life for the last ten years. His probation officer says that if Chris doesn't get his act together any time soon, he's either going to be locked up for life or dead. And I can't have neither."
"Yeah, I see. I'm down to help your brother. When is the nearest date that he can come into therapy?"
"Not until next week. Unless the hospital contacts you and tells you that you can start his first session in the hospital."
"The hospital? May I ask what's wrong?"
"Chris went on a suicidal rage because him and his girlfriend just broke up. He slit his wrist, but luckily, he's fine. He's been in here since last night. They're planning on keeping him in the hospital for about a week. And if he needs to stay there longer, they'll let me know."
"Oh gosh, that's terrible. Unfortunately, since he's in the mental hospital, they already have therapists in the hospital. They'll assign one to him until he's release. When he's out of the hospital, feel free to contact me again. I'll be more than happy to set an appointment up with Chris."
"Damn, that sucks. I'll be sure to keep you updated. Thank you so much, Star. I really appreciate you helping me out."
"No problem, Mr. Brown. Have a good one, and I hope Chris feels better."
"Thank you, Star. You too."
Jayden then hang up the phone. I sighed and sat there to myself. It's absolutely heartbreaking what these people have to go through. Most of the time, none of it is their fault.
"Hello there, wifey. May I come in, or are you busy with something at the moment?"
Dave peeked his head into my office door. I looked up at him and smiled.
"You can come on in, baby. My next patient isn't until another hour. Who let you upstairs?"
"Brian. You know that nigga lets anyone in here. How's your day going? I brought you a coffee."
Dave walked fully into my office, closing the door afterwards and handing me the coffee. I pecked him on his lips and smiled, grabbing the coffee.
"My day has been fine. How about yours?"
"Pretty good. I've been working with a few more music artists, so I've been a bit busy. I have a half an hour break before my next session."
"That's great, baby. I'm super proud of you."
"Thank you, boo. Who's picking the kids up from school today?"
