Adopted By Hamilton

Chapter 35. Therapy

I had known all of my life that there was something different about me. Something that didn't quite fit with society's expectations of me. When I found the words to describe what that feeling was, it was like a clairity I needed rushed over me. And in a second that moment shifted to fear and hiding.
Fear and hiding has been all I've ever known. Physically and Mentally.
I walked into my first therapy appointment wanting to change that.

Her name was Megan. She had long blonde hair that was pushed back with a headband. She looked about thirty and had pictures of what I guessed was her family along her desk. Her office was warm, but not too warm. It was comfortable. A small couch faced her desk, a bean bag chair in one of the corners, some small fidget toys sat in bins on shelves.
Posters and stickers lined the walls, but there was one spot that had nothing on it. I mentally checked that as my favorite spot.
The suicide hotline number was a various posters on the wall and various 'mental health matters' signs hung. Rainbow and trans flags were seen in stickers and through mini flags in a coffee cup on her desk. I took a deep breath and let go of some of the tension that I didn't know I had built up.

I sat down on the small gray couch that faced her desk. I started to grab on the fidget toys in the bucket to my left, but I stopped because I didn't know if I was allowed.

"It's so nice to meet you," Megan said with a smile on her face. My leg shook in anxiousness.
"Today is really just going to be a get to know each other session, if that's okay." She seems optimistic. I nodded.

"I'm just going to ask you a bunch of questions and your brain is probably going to hurt after this. Trust me I hate it too, but it's the process." She explained. I just nodded again.

...

Megan asked me many questions about how I feel and who I live with. Apparently she had my file and knew I was in foster care.
Then the conversation of sexuality and gender came up.
"What are your preferred pronouns?" She asked.
"He/Him," I said confidently. She didn't need to know I was trans.
"In your file it says you were born female. Do you want to talk about that?" Megan asked like it was normal.
What does she mean? She knows. She's going to tell Lin.
"How do you know that?" I asked, my voice shot up with concern.

"I have access to your medical files and birth records," she explained. I thought those got changed? Maybe that doctor just printed me out copies with my preferred name.

"Oh. Well. I don't really want to talk about it," I say. My leg bounces with anxiety. My heart races just a little bit in fear.

"I want you to know that this is a safe place to share anything you would like to. I do have to ask though, are you taking any medications for this?" Megan asked. I guess she needed to cover all the bases.
"No. I wish though," I said in honesty. God I wish that I was.
"Do your foster parents know? I'm guessing they do," she asked expectantly.
"No, they don't. Everyone just thinks I was born male," I explained to her.

Her facial expression shifts. She opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped.
"Any past experiences with self harm?" She changed the subject.
I nodded slowly. I want to go home.
"Do you want to elaborate?" She asked expectantly.
I sighed. "What do you mean?" I already knew the answer to her question.
"Like how, and for how long, and or how long ago." She explained further.

"I... I cu... I cut myself sometimes. I relapsed last week after a few months," I told her. It was something that I wasn't proud of.

"And I'm assuming your foster parents know about this?" She asked. I just nodded. They knew and that was that.

...

The questions kept coming until the end of the session. I was over it. I just wanted to go home.