J.A.C.I.E.'s World (All Time Low Fanfiction | Jack Barakat)

Chapter 17

The day of my first therapy session had finally arrived. I had spent the previous evening anxiously trying to prepare myself. Of course, I knew this was an important and good step for myself, but that didn't mean that it wasn't making me feel anxious. I had no idea what to expect. I always considered myself good at talking about my feelings. But was this also going to be okay?

I sat nervously in the office, my fingers fidgeting and my right leg bouncing. There was some soft soothing music playing somewhere in the background, attempting to make the environment more relaxing. It did not help. My heart was racing and my mind was becoming a jumbled mess.

The door to the therapist's office opened, a friendly looking woman with warm brown eyes and a gentle smile greeted me. "Jennifer?"

I nodded, my throat feeling incredibly dry. "That's me. Although, I prefer to go by Jacie."

She extended her hand, which I shook hesitantly. "We can do that. I'm Dr. Mitchell, please come on in."

I followed her into the cosy office, which was filled with soft lighting and comfortable furniture. There was a large bookshelf filled with books and a few plants that added a touch of tranquillity to the room.

"Please, have a seat," she said, gesturing to one of the armchairs.

I nodded and carefully sat down. At least the chair was comfortable. I just wasn't sure whether I wanted to cross or uncross my legs. In the end, I settled on putting my leg on top of my right.

"Before we begin," Dr. Mitchell began, her tone gentle as she grabbed a notebook from her desk, "I want you to know that this is a safe and confidential space. You can share as much or as little as you're comfortable with."

"Okay," I responded, glad to have had some reassurance.

"Let's start by getting to know you a bit better," she suggested. "Can you tell me a little about yourself, your life, and what brings you here today?"

I took a deep breath, knowing this question was coming. But there was so much to say and I hadn't been able to figure out my answer when I attempted to prepare. "Where do I start?"

Dr. Mitchell leaned forward slightly, her encouraging gaze focused on me. "Start wherever feels most natural to you, Jacie. This is your space, and we can explore your story together."

I began hesitantly, the words tumbling out as I navigated through my thoughts. "Well, I'm twenty-two. And I feel like the past year and a half have both included my highest highs and lowest lows."

"How so?"

"Umm... Well, I met someone. And our relationship's been pretty... intense, I guess? I don't know if that's the right word. We got married just over five months ago. It was an accident. Neither of us remember it."

I looked at her to see if it got any reaction out of her. After all, most people acted shocked when they heard. But Dr. Mitchell just continued to look back at me, urging me to continue. She didn't even look down to write anything.

"And, umm, yeah," I shrugged, playing around with my wedding ring. "We decided to stay married. It's been good so far... I think. I mean, we recently had a huge fight while he was out of state. I don't think I handled it well."

Dr. Mitchell nodded sympathetically, her eyes never leaving mine. "What do you feel has been the most challenging aspect for you?"

"I'm not sure. He said something that made me realise that I might not really be prepared for a relationship at this level. I'm scared of fighting, I'm terrified of messing it all up. I don't think these thoughts have been good for me." I leaned back into the chair and found a spot on the ceiling to stare at.

"Recognising that is a huge step to take."

"I guess... I mean, I feel a lot better now. But a month ago... I don't know. It was like I wasn't myself and I'm not sure why. I don't want to go down that path again."

Her pen was poised to take notes. "Understanding your triggers is an essential step in managing these challenges. We'll work on identifying them more clearly as we continue. Why don't you tell me about the relationships in your life?"

"Umm," I looked down and back at her, "well, there's my husband, Jack. It still feels strange to call him my husband out loud. Then there's my best friend, Hazel. She's probably been the constant in my life. We grew up together. And my little brother, Ben. He's eight right now. I've always helped to take care of him. And my parents, of course. I used to live with my dad until I moved out... My mom's in Missouri. They got divorced when I was fourteen."

"And how does that make you feel?" She was finally taking down a few words.

"The divorce?"

"Yeah."

"It's eight years ago now... I guess I'm a little mad? I wish they divorced sooner."

Dr. Mitchell's expression was empathetic. "Divorce can be a challenging experience for anyone, especially when it happens during one's formative years. It's natural to have mixed emotions about it. Can you tell me more about your relationship with your parents?"

I sighed, thinking about my complicated family dynamics. "My dad and I have always been close. He's been a pillar of support for me. He encouraged my love for music and always believed in me. We have a great relationship. We did have a big fight a while ago, which led to us not talking for over a month. But we've made up"

"Do you want to tell me more about that?"

I shrugged, noticing the money plant she had hanging up at the window. "It happened when I told him about my relationship with Jack. He wasn't exactly happy, especially since Jack's ten years older than me... But I think he's mainly been scarred by his hectic relationship with my mom."

I expected her to comment on the age gap Jack and I had; that she'd want to investigate why I felt the need to be with somebody so much older than me. After all, that's what everybody around me always wanted to know.

But Dr. Mitchell took a different approach. "How's your relationship with your mom?"

"It's always been strained." I felt so uncertain, as if I was spilling a secret that wasn't mine to tell. "I don't see her much anymore, which isn't necessarily bad. We think she's got some undiagnosed mental health problems– I don't like speculating about other people's mental health..."

"It's important to approach such matters with sensitivity. Your concern for your mother's well-being is evident. It must have been challenging to witness the struggles in your parents' relationship as a child." Her eyes were filled with understanding.

"Yeah," I could only agree, feeling a heavy weight on my chest. "I'm just glad my little brother doesn't have to go through it. My mom left before his first birthday."

She leaned forward slightly, her gaze remaining focused on me. "It sounds like you've had to shoulder a lot of responsibilities and navigate difficult situations from a young age. Have you ever considered how these experiences might be affecting your current relationships and behaviour?"

I paused, reflecting on her question. I wanted to say that of course I had considered that. But had I? I thought about it sometimes, but I wouldn't say I had considered it. I knew I didn't have the right role models, but how was it affecting me, truly?

"No, not really," I shook my head, "maybe a little bit."

"We'll continue to explore that over our sessions, if you'd like."

I nodded softly.

We continued our conversation for another ten minutes as she tried to get to know me further. I told her about my degree, the job I currently had, and the way I was thrown on tour as soon as I graduated. We didn't go into anything too deep yet, but there was so much I needed to catch her up on to fully get her to understand me. Just going through all my stories made me realise just how insane my life had been, even if it wasn't the craziest one out there.

I treated myself to some coffee after I left the office, feeling like I was doing the right things for myself and everybody around me. I felt overwhelmed, but also so relieved.