Life Of Dreams

Chapter 11

The alarm rang and barely moving, I clumsily shut it off.  I lay face down into my pillow  not feeling strong enough to pull myself out of bed.  It’s Tuesday, one of the only days a week I actually set an alarm.  One of the only days I leave my house.  One of the only days I have to act like I’m alive.  This will be my fifth appointment with Dr. Allen and although tempted, I know I can’t call in sick or give another excuse.  She’d know, I knew she’d know. 

My schedule was twice a week, every Tuesday and Friday for five weeks, then once a week for several months after that, if all went well.  Then once a month until all of my little fantasies have been scrutinized, dismembered and thrown out.  The first session went rather well, just an introduction to get to know each other.  But starting with the  second session, WOW.  Each had, in succession, drawn blood, and unfortunately it was all mine.  It had started benign enough, but then she started picking at me, as though she was a dental tool and I was just an exposed nerve.  Not a good combination.

Dr. Allen had started with, “You are, what? 36?  What can you tell me about your previous relationships.  Start with the most recent and work your way back.”

“Well, I met Trent … “  by the look she gave over her glasses, that’s not what the doctor wanted to hear.  “I’m sorry, it just slipped out.”

She looked at me kindly.  “We’ve been over this before.  Everyone has daydreams, they tend to shelter us and boost our ego whenever we need it.  They help us cope with hardships and even every day drudgery …. But that’s all they are, they’re daydreams.”  She looked over some notes.  “Why don’t you tell me about Gary.  What happened there?”

I sighed in resignation.  “Not much to tell, we broke up.”

Again the doctor looked over her glasses.

“All right.  We met through a book club at the local library.  Gary was sweet, nice and we really hit it off.  At least in the beginning.  We had been seeing each other for about a year and a half, exclusively, or so I thought.  And then he broke it off, he wanted to be with someone else.”

“I sense some hesitation.  Was there any violence involved?”

 “No, no violence.  He … just broke it off.”

“Carolyn,”  the doctor took off her glasses and looked at me directly.  At this point I would have preferred her just staring over those readers.  “I told you from the start that in order to get on with your life, you’re going to have to open up.  I know it’s hard but until you are willing to face things straight on, you won’t totally get back to reality.”  She just waited.

I squirmed.  This was not what it seemed.  As soon as I tell her the details, she’ll immediately try to connect our break-up with what’s been going on in my head.

“Gary left me for Selma Valdez.”  I looked up to find the name recognition in her eyes.  “Gary works for a PR company that specializes in local personalities.  It seems he was helping her with a bit of a PR disaster concerning her most recent fling that crashed and burned.  But out of the ashes of that fiasco, I guess there were some smoldering sparks that heated those two up.  That was well over a year ago, and I think they’re still going strong.”  I looked down at my lap again, picking at my cuticles and wishing I were somewhere, anywhere else, but here.

“Selma Valdez is a pretty well known singer around here.  What did you think about him becoming involved with her?  Were you upset that she was someone of notoriety as opposed to someone who wasn’t in the business?  Could Trent have been your way of handling Gary’s desertion?  One up-man-ship?  A major movie star for a local singer?”

“Whatever happened to shrinks who were passive and non-confrontational?  You, lady, go for the jugular.”  My eyes shot up to the doctor’s face and I could feel mine get beet-red.  Did I really say that out loud? 

Dr. Allen looked over her glasses again.  I had started hating that gesture of questioning or disbelief.  “You’re going to have to start working with me here.  You need to be absolutely open.  Your visits are a condition of you returning to work, a bank can’t have someone working for them that can’t tell reality from daydreams.”

That comment about one up-man-ship had hurt, I mean really hurt.  But I could see the logic in what she had been saying.  Was all of this just because Gary had left me for someone semi-famous?  But that seemed so tidily wrapped up; I go crazy just because someone left me?  I’ve been left before, and I’ve done the leaving several times, it has nothing to do with what I had been going through.

But all weekend I had struggled with that possibility.  I had loved Gary, but when it was over, I hadn’t harbored any hostilities or resentments toward him.  At least, I hadn’t thought so.