Head case

Chapter 1

Chapter 1
"and how did that make you feel?"
Oh. My. God. I could literally laugh at this woman right now. I understand I'm supposed to be telling her about my feelings, but I think that is actually all she has said this whole session. With a roll of my eyes I answer, again "it scares me, like I said before. When I sleep it feels to real, like these people are real people talking to me."
I've tried doing the whole "lie to the therapist so people don't think you crazy thing." But people think I'm crazy anyway, so I might as well tell her the truth and see if she can help me. But by they way here big eyes got even bigger at me saying "people in my head" I have a feeling I just earned a one-way ticket to the funny farm. Not that I minded at this point. Feels like my home away from home.
The short, round women cleared her throat. Probably trying t get the shocked look off her face and she finally asked me a different question "and what do they say to you?"
"they ask me to help them get out. They never go int detail abut what they need to get out of, but they ether sound really scared or like they would kill me if I said no."
"so, what do you do once they ask?' she asked sounding intrigued by the nightmare I dream every night.
"if they sound scared and look friendly, I try to calm them. and try to ask them questions about who they are and were we are. But then it's like their trying to talk and I just can't hear them. There lips will move but no sound will come out, like when you hit mute on the tv." I stop to take a breath before I tell her about what happens with the others "and if there the ones that sound like there going to hurt me if I don't..... I run. And I find myself running in a labyrinth of hallways that never seems to end"
"do they ever catch you?"
I shift nervously at the question "no, I always wake up before the reach me" and that's true.... Most of the time. But I don't want to talk about that. I just can't, not with anyone. The one time I thought I could trust someone witht hat information it ended with a threat to try shock therapy and I was so not going there no matter how crazy I am.
"do they ever talk to you when your not asleep?"
"no" I said and shook my head for emphasis "it's only ever been while I sleep." Thank god, I added internally. I didn't want to add schizophrenia to the ever-growing list of shit wrong with me. "but sometimes it gets so bad I wake up screaming. Other doctors have told me its night terrors." And I believe them I just with my mom would. So, she would stop dragging me to 50 doctors a week trying to cure something that can't really be cured. I'm already on all kinds of medication for it.
I roll my eyes at the thought. She wants me to be this perfect little thing that she can show off to all her little friends but since I have all kinds of "issues" she barley likes to be seen around me anymore.
"who are you talking about?" the therapist asked throwing me off because I could have sworn that little rant went on inside my head.
"did I say that out loud?" I asked her. I honestly might have. Lets just add it to the list of off things I do sometimes.
"yes, dear you did. Now who were you talking about. U sounded like you have built up a lot of anger towards them." Understatement of the year right there.
"you could say that." I pause and look at her. She's obviously waiting for me to spill the beans "I don't think my mom likes that there is so much wrong with me"
"well no, probably not. No mother wants to see her child suffer."
And there it is yet another professional who just doesn't get what I'm trying to say. I want to try to explain how it is that I am feeling but what's the point? every other time I have, they just throw it in my face that she just trying to help me. But they don't see that she's only trying to help me so that she doesn't look bad.
And after all that, the rest of the session was the usual "and how does that make you feel" with an ending of "were going to readjust your meads." Just like all the others.
I smile and say thank you and walk out the door without looking back. I know that without any new answer's mom wouldn't be bring me back here, so I didn't make it a point to remember the women's name. But I can tell you that her hair is shot, curly and brown. I don't know why but I've always been better with faces than names. Something moms hates, because I guess It makes me rude when I don't remember someone's name after meeting them once? I don't get her logic there, but whatever. Ill I know is I will never being seeing these tan walls again, and I will have a new set of tan walls next mouth when these meds don't work to my mom's liking.
Great.