therapy / e.d

1

Mom did not have to pull me out of college for this. She's being ridiculous. When I saw her sitting in the dean's office, explaining to him that I've been having personal issues and that I needed to come home, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Mom literally drove two hours to convince the dean to let me leave campus a month before summer break.

I protested. I told him I still had assignments to complete but he shook his head, telling me not to worry which angered me. I didn't want to go back with her. I wasn't even planning on going back for the summer. I mean, I can't go back, I struggle to call that place home anymore. There's nothing left in New Jersey for me to call it home. Except mom of course, but she treats me like glass.

As I was packing my things in my dorm to go back home for the next couple months, I kept arguing. I kept telling mom this was stupid and I don't have personal issues. I am mentally stable and I can handle this on my own. I even stopped packing all together. Then she threatened me, saying she'd pull me out of NYU considering she helped pay half of my tuition.

"I'm doing this to help you, Mia. Let me help you, for god sake stop pushing me away." She said to me.

I slump in the passenger seat of the car with my duffel bag in the back. I belt myself before bringing my knees up to my chest as mom enters the car, starting up the ignition. I focus on staring out the windshield as she pulls out of the parking lot and starting the drive home.

As we drive, I feel her eyes on me. She observing me like I'm some sort of experiment. "I can see your collarbones." She comments, making me bring my hand towards my collarbones, trying to shield them from her vision. "What? You've stopped eating too?"

I purse my lips together. I hadn't even realised I've been losing weight. I can't let her know how much this has been affecting me. I cough, thinking up a lie. "I had... a cold a week ago and I just lost my appetite."

I see mom nod slowly and she looks to see me pulling my knees closer to my chest. "Come on, Mia. Feet down. Safety first."

I roll my eyes, forcing my feet down and I cross my arms over me. "What did Natalie tell you?"

Natalie, the overly concerned roommate who called my mother this morning to which mom took as a message to bring me home. Her and mom treat me the exact same. They act as if I'm going to break and it pisses me off. I wouldn't call Natalie my best friend, I've never really had one but I guess she was the closest to it, besides the fact that she's been like my second mother.

Mom takes a deep breath. "That you've been getting these dreams for almost a month now."

"They're just dreams." I brush off, trying to convince both mom and myself. They're far from dreams. They're flashbacks in the form of nightmares. But its the same nightmare every time. I try and rid my mind of the thought.

"She said she wakes up to the sound of you screaming. They are not just dreams, Mia."

I huff. "Its only been a couple times-"

"Nine times in the past three weeks? This is post traumatic stress-"

"Don't you dare treat me like a patient, mom." I glare at her before leaning against the door, trying to be as far away from her as possible.

Meet my mom. The therapist. Since all this has happened, she's acted more like a therapist than my mom but it's not what I need. I need my mom. I need comfort from my mom, not a therapist.

"Honey, you know I'm just trying to help you." She says quietly.

"I didn't need to be pulled out of college in my last month before summer break." I protest. She sighs, knowing she can't do anything to convince me otherwise.