Journal Of A Survivor

Six

Today is her first day of therapy. She didn't know how it was going to go which made her even more anxious than ever. It was an hour drive to her therapist. She didn't know who her therapist was going to be. She didn't know if she was going to be nice or judgmental. The drive was quite and long. Her leg bounced up and down; a sure sign she was anxious. Her father drove and the traffic was pretty heavy on the highway.

Almost forty minutes later they got off the ramp onto the main streets. She held her phone for the directions and her father took a wrong turn. He got frustrated and somehow she thought she was to blame. For such a simple mistake was she to blame? No of course not, but considering how fragile she is at this point she thought everything was her fault.

Soon enough they got to the place where they were meant to be at; Santa Monica UCLA Medical Center. Her father parked the car and they both got out. It was a little windy and she liked it. She always loved the cool breeze. They always felt relaxing to her, like it was washing away her worries. She wished she could just stand there close her eyes and just enjoy the cool breeze. But of course she had an appointment to go to. They both crossed the street and around the huge building to the main entrance. She didn't exactly know where her appointment was going to be held but she had to ask around. She had to speak, something she dreads more than ever.

She entered the building and there were many people. She asked the kind lady at the front desk for directions. Her voice is low almost like a whisper she couldn't bear to look into her eyes. Her eyes remained on the floor, but she listened as carefully as she could. She hoped to remeber every direction because it was a lot of turns to take.

"Take a left towards the elevator down here. Your going to press the B1 button and then when you get off make a left and then a right walk straight down and you'll see the sign on the left." The lady said. "Sorry we don't have anyone to escort you, do you think you can manage yourself."

She nodded her head and thanked her. She walked towards the elevator with her father trailing behind her. She pressed the down button and waited for the elevator to open up. A young man came to her and stood next to her.

"Your going to the RTC?" He asked and she nodded. "I'll show you the way." She had her gaze fixed on the floor. She didn't want to meet his eyes. Who knew what was going through his mind and she didn't want too. She didn't want to look at him because she felt so ashamed he knew why she was going there and she didn't want to see pity all over his face.

The elevator dinged and it opened. They all entered the elevator and the young man pressed the button. It only took a few seconds to get to the floor they were supposed to get off. When they did they walked down a hallway. They walked for a couple of minutes until they reached their destination.

"Here we are." The young man said. She nodded and thanked him and he walked away. She grabbed a hold of the handle and turned it. She entered the office and walked towards this glass window where the receptionist was sitting at. She told the receptionist her name and the name of her therapist. That's all she knew about her therapist; her name.

She sat down in a chair. Her stare was fixated on the carpet and her mind took her somewhere else.

*Flashback*

Her father decided to take her to school. He drove as she just gazed at the street passing by.  

"How are you feeling?" He asked. She let out a sigh. "I mean are you hurting anywhere?"  

"NO!" She yelled.  

"I was just asking you act like this was my fault!" He retorted. Her eyes rimmed with tears, She held them back as much as she could but some trickled down her face. She quickly wiped them away she didn't want to go to school crying. When they arrived she was less tensed. She was happy to be away from her father. She walked away quickly not wanting to be near anything that reminded her of what happened.

*End Of Flashback*

She stared at her hands while her leg bounced up and down. Her mind took her back. Took her back to the accident.

*Flasback*

She was siting in a chair with a blanket wrapped around her. It was the only thing keeping her comfort. There were fire fighters in the apartment and outside in the hallway. One fire fighter sat across from her. He asked her what happened. Her voice was low, she had to repeat herself a couple of times so he was able to take down the information. This older police officer stood next to her. As she said what happened he placed his hand on her shoulder to soothe her. She didn't want any of that so she rotated her shoulder and he pulled his hand off. The fire fighter asked her name and her address. So she told him.  

They told her she was going to go on the gurney so she did. They carried her down to the main building entrance and loaded her up on the ambulance. Inside of the ambulance was dark. Her gurney faced the doors. She could see everything they left behind but her mind tried to comprehend what was going. 

They arrived at the hospital and they gave her a hospital bracelet. They then took her to her own room and she sat on the bed wrapped up in the blanket as she hugged her knees.   A nurse came in and introduced herself. Then a older looking woman came in an took her to another room. She sat down on a couch. She blankly stared at the wooden table that was in front of her. The older looking lady came back. She explained what the next steps were going to be. A nurse came in and asked her some questions. She told them everything as the tears streamed down her face.

  "I know this is hard." The nurse said and handed her a tissue. She felt so hollow like and empty shell.

*End Of Flashback*

Someone called her name and she glanced up. This young looking lady smiled at her and she smiled back; a forced one. She introduced herself as her therapist and she followed her back to her office. She sat across from her therapist. Her therapist asked her some questions and like always she nodded yes or no depending what the answer was.  

Her eyes were focused on the carpet. She didn't want to look her therapist in her eyes. Sometimes she would glance at her but quickly look away. She twiddled with her fingers and her leg bounced up and down like always.  

"What's on your mind?" Her therapist asked.  

She shrugged and said, "The accident." Her voice breaks as she speaks. She tries to swallow the lump in her throat. Her eyes rimmed with tears and she desperately tried to hold them back. She chewed on her lip to try and distract herself.

The therapist talked about how her neurons fire and light up like fireworks in her brain in events like this. Her therapist showed her a chart. She took in her hands and looked over it. There were many different lines with different colors going up and down like roller coasters.  

Soon her session was over and she scheduled her next appointment for next week. She didn't get  much talking done in this session but either way she still wanted to come back and try again.   She couldn't wait to get home and get into bed and sob. That's the only thing she could do. No matter how much she hated crying it was the only way she could let her emotions out.  

She walked out of the office ready to go home.