Bubble Gum Kisses

Kapittel 22.1

Kapittel 22.1

Vanessa

"It's been a month since we last talked, has it? How are you doing?" Dr. Langston asked over the phone. She was in her usual demeanor, all caring and motherly. I remember the time during my first appointment, I was expecting her to be all silent and would just write down everything I said, then unravel everything to me in a systematic matter. Like there as if there'd be a thick wall between me and her. But she was unexpectedly comforting but still retained her professionalism. But I guess all therapists had her demeanor, and I just had exaggerated expectations.

"I'm doing fine..." I was hesitant to answer her. I wasn't sure if I was actually completely fine. A part of me wanted to leave it at that. But, do I really want to leave it at that? No, I couldn't lie to my own therapist, the only one to whom I have revealed the rawest parts of me... well, partly.

"Okay, I see–"

"Actually..." I trailed off, twiddling my fingers to lessen the anxiety, thinking if it would the right decision to tell her about the things that bother me. I looked at Dr. Langston at the screen who was also looking back at me with a gaze intrigued. "Things... had been a little different since we moved."

"You've been doing well the past months. What happened?" she asked, scooting closer to the screen.

Okay, no. I had to disagree with her. I didn't believe that I was in bad shape. I was fine. I was totally fine. Maybe, I was a little disgruntled these past few weeks, but it didn't mean that I wasn't doing well anymore. But– no. I'm better than I was before. If whatever Dr. Langston said was true, then, it was better compared to our earliest sessions. That was all the reassurance that I needed. I have to be okay... for Mom and Zach.

"I... I just don't know how I'm holding up after moving. I returned to the place where my family and I used to live, but things here have pretty much changed. And I don't know how to fit into it. I needed to ride the waves moving forward to the shore, but I feel like there's a current pulling me back to the center of the ocean." I confessed, deciding I didn't put too much context on it. Was it dishonest? Maybe it was. But I needed to convince Dr. Langston that I was okay. No, not only her but also myself.

Despite that, I couldn't deny that I was generally telling the truth. The house itself, the streets that I'd jogged in the early morning, the stuff that he gifted, and even Mom and Zach themselves were reminders of Dad.

Not to mention my endeavors. Being an interior designer was Dad's idea. Not that he enforced it on me, but he was the one who shed light on my passion when he saw me redecorating the lounge because I thought seemed off. I was already a high-functioning, anxious overachiever, and his death was one facet that was driving me to reach them. High grades, a scholarship, extracurricular activities for my transcript, summer classes, finding good universities and safety schools, all of it! There were many things I needed to do to achieve those endeavors, but I was incapacitated by the mental struggle.

"I see, it's hard for you to cope with things because you feel like you've returned to the past, but they weren't exactly like how they used to be anymore. You're confused where you should stand, to remain with the past until you have accepted things or to force yourself to move on with the present." This woman never disappointed in untangling the ball of yarn within me. She always made her way unclogging every conflicted feeling within me, even when I didn't know there was one.

"I guess you can say that." That was what I could only respond to her.

"You wanted to move forward, but there are things that are holding you back. What are those things, Van?"