Boys Will Be Boys (v.2)

chapter five - communication

chapter five — communication

DR. GOMEZ'S OFFICE WAS THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF MOST THERAPIST'S. The way TV had laid out a therapist's office was blindingly white, modern, and cold. Dr. Gomez seemed to throw that stereotype out of the fucking window since her office was painted a warm yellow and had an ancient squishy couch with assorted throws from different countries. It was both a migraine and a comfort. The shelves were stacked high with children's toys and books on self-help, her outfit reflecting the environment and almost hippie-esque. Her lab coat looked almost out of place, and it lay underneath a random blanket on her chair. She wasn't unconventional method-wise, but she definitely wasn't a conformist life-wise.

When I was little, I used to imagine her younger self getting high with other hippie folks. Now, I didn't need to imagine it as much as I accepted it as a fact. She showed me a picture of her children once, a bong tucked away in the background right next to her cat. I wasn't sure if it was against the rule book for therapists to accidentally expose personal lives, but I didn't mind an awful lot.

I wasn't a huge fan of adults, but I could handle Dr. Gomez.

She was great at tackling nearly every problem, except for claustrophobia. Anyone with claustrophobia would probably drop dead before choosing to enter her office. I liked it though. There was a ton of shit for me to look at if I ever got bored, though I usually didn't. Dr. Gomez could usually keep my attention for the length of our sessions.

"How are we doing Kieran?" Dr. Gomez closed the door behind her as I sank into the ancient squishy couch. It swallowed me, leaving only my knees, forearms, and face out of its grasp.

"Pretty okay," I answered, busily unwrapping a candy cane. Dr. Gomez always kept a ton of them on her desk and, although they tasted like absolute shit, I made a habit of nabbing one at the start of every session. It was either that or fucking licorice.

I fucking hate licorice.

"How's the transition going? Concerta to Strattera right?" She pushed her glasses further up her nose, red lips pulling back into a friendly smile. She had huge earrings on in the shape of crystals, and I watched them wink in the yellow light of the room's lamps.

"It's going good" I nodded, popping the straight end of candy cane into my mouth.

"Lukas making sure you stick to your dose?" She teased, laughing as I rolled my eyes.

Sometimes, I would drag Lukas with me to my sessions. He and Dr. Gomez got along scarily well. She thought sessions with family and friends could help people with ADHD learn how to focus better, and she thought Lukas was the perfect combination of both in my world: closer than a friend, and not nosy enough as family. With people who were close to me, if I got used to keeping my focus around them, I'd keep it wherever they were, and then gradually start keeping it naturally. That was how I understood it anyway, although Dr. Gomez probably had an actual good explanation.

With combination ADHD, it wasn't always the focusing I had trouble with. Sometimes, Dr. Gomez, Lukas, and my Mum would all sit me down and talk about how I needed to relax. It was really mainly Lukas. He was worried I'd practice basketball one day and just never stop.

He was so fucking stupid, but I could never fault him for shit.

"Okay Kieran, I haven't seen you in two months so catch me up on your life" Dr. Gomez leaned back into her chair and I languidly took a bite off my candy cane.

Marco liked to tell me I was a monster for biting into my candy canes, but he was the one who bit into his popsicles so I didn't give a flying fuck about what he thought.