Therapy

Entirely Bonkers

Tuesday. I just arrived at my office. Today mostly contains off observing meals. A pient eating habbit can tell alot about what truely is going on inside.

Don't get me wrong, my friend. You just can't trust my patients stories. They contain about 20% lies because they are afraid to get in trouble. It's up to me to fill the blanks.

Except Taylor, he has his own strict no-lie policy, a promise he made with his older sister. One he hasn't seen over 5 years. Besides he thinks our meetings are the only fun thing happening in this place. As a Psychologist I'm pretty sure he is trying to fill in me in the spot of his sisters. His sister was the only one supporting him in art. His parents? They think he is a lost cause. Which isn't necessarly true. Just because he doesn't study medicine, doesn't mean he is a lost cause. Well you know parents, they can be quite pressistant. Which in this case, lead Taylor down the bad road.

O, Well what Taylor said about my secrets? Every one has secrets right. I have a fear of eating eggs. It feels like I'm eating a placenta and it's possible baby in it!

It's probebly not what Taylor meant with secrets. But my friend, we just met eachother and it might be a little too soon to talk about dirty secrets. *smirk*

I guess I can tell you a little bit about my psychotic mother. That isn't a secret. I mean... Seriously the WHOLE neighbourhood knew about my mother. I'm supprised they let her join the local book club. You can guess why I chose not to be a baker, but a psychologist. I've had my first patient since the day I have been born.

I might have inherited her crazy genes, but hey I'm a psychologist right? I can "cure" myself. Actually that is what I've been doing even before I became a Psychologist. Well self-diagnosing and self-curing save up expensive bills. I was from a not so whealty familiy (and not so healthy too).

Anyway YOU are part of my self-curing program. Fight insanity with insanity! Fire with fire! Enough talking. Since you are imaginary, I'll show you some flashbacks from my past life.

Sunday november 1988, the day I was born. My mom lies totally beaten on her hospital bed, as the nurse approach her with me in her hands, my mother smiles like any other mother would do. Her smile disappears when she holds me in her arms. Her face changes into complete disgust. She starts screaming. "WHAT IS THAT ON HER FACE?!!" The nurse starts sweating "It is just a birth mark mam, it's completly normal." Well as you guessed I started off as my mom's least favorite child. Even though I am her first child. She bore 4 childern, she was determend to get a better looking child than me. She bore all the childern right after me. which took a total period of 5 years. Each child was a conformation and a reminder that she could bare beautiful childern.

Yep. She is mental. The thing is that I am not that Ugly. I have blond hair and green eyes, bit of an cute elven nose, between an oval-round face and for someone that doesn't pluk her eyebrows, they are pretty neat. Nevertheless my mother tried to sufficate me many times when I was a baby and a little child. That's where I got my breathing problems.

Sunday 1999, 12 years old. At the sunday seramon my mother looks at me in disgust a second later her eyes become dark and filled with shallowness. A look I will never forget. We at the last row. Unconfertable by my mothers look I start looking around. Before I knew it my mother jumped on me, grabbing me by my throat, hitting me on the ground. It took a while before anyone noticed I guess, I was already passed out by the time help came.

My mother got banned by the priest, but that is about it, since my dad begged the priest not to involve the police in this. We just went to a different church every sunday. I got a lot of scars, on my body. I never wore short clothing. One perticular scar is on my wrist which is hard for me to hide. When I was 14 my mom slit my wrists and wanted to look like suicide. Luckly my little brother called 911.

My mom wasn't always crazy. It is just she wanted attention, most of the time. She just demanded it in a desperate way. After a lash out she would blame everything on me. She would start screaming and crying by laying on the ground like big baby. Seriously she looked like a seal. I always hated that sight. All I could think was :"Grow up". My dad brought her to an exorcist. Because he is believes she is possessed. He said he wasn't always like this. The exorcist came to our living room. You should have seen the show my mother put on. I mean, mom please all that was missing was flying objects. Steven spielberg called, he wants you in his new film.

I would diagnose her with Post traumatic experience. Her traumatic experience? Something with her dad that hit her and my birth. My dead aunt told me that my grandfather used to hit my sister every day. I dont think that gave her the right to treat me like that. When my aunt commited suicide, even though she was a marvelous bitch, I wished it was my mother instead. Before my aunt died, she told me that my birth was appearently the traumatic event that made her collasp.

Suddenly something hits me in the face. As it woke me up from my day dreaming. I get up and remove it from my face. A pient standing on the cafetaria table screaming "FOOD FIGHTT!!!" I look in my hands to find a whatever is left from the patients' pudding. Before I knew it the cafetaria is changed into a warzone.

*Author note*
To the person(s) that are reading my story. I'm increadebly sorry if I write boring. I totally newbee at this. Please help me out. I'm open for suggestions. ♡