I’ve been staring at my hands for about twenty minutes while sitting in the couch at my therapist’s office without saying a word, trying to process everything my parents told me yesterday without actually knowing how I fell or what does it all mean, or what to do with the information.
“Joana, I understand that your parents told you several things last night that surprised you.”
I start to nod slowly with my head and crack my knuckles.
“Surprised me is a way of saying it…”
“Will you talk to them about it?”
I exhale heavily and run my hand through my hair trying to keep calm.
“I don’t know. I…”
My eyes tear up and my head feels as if it’s going to explode any moment.
“I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what I feel… I just don’t know anything.”
“Okay, well, let’s start compartmentalizing emotions. Sound good?”
I shrug, I feel trapped in a bubble made of static, as if I was floating, as if I wasn’t really there and I was someone else entirely.
“What have you felt since yesterday?”
I laugh, but not a fun laugh, I laugh out of frustration and conflicting emotions all crashing down on me.
“Anger, sadness, confusion, relief, betrayal, frustration…”
I stop to try and gather my thoughts.
“I don’t know. I don’t.”
A tear streams own my face.
“I don’t know anymore…”
And another tear.
“I don’t know who to trust.”
My therapist hands me a tissue and lightly squeezes my hand.
“Everything that you are feeling is completely normal, just remember that you are not alone, Joana, there will always be someone you can trust.”
“If you say so.”
She squeezes my hand one more time and moves in her chair, resting her back all the way. I look at her and I think about something, a question that just came to my mind, I make eye contact and try to speak but the words don’t come out, so I press my lips and exhale through my nose while looking away.
“Is there anything you want to say?”
“No.”
I try to ignore it but the question starts bubbling up in my throat and presses against it to come out, a question I don’t want to ask because I feel I know the answer and I’m not sure I want to hear it.
“Are you sure?”
Yes.
“No.”
“Tell me.”
I look at her again and the words blurt out before I can stop them.
“Did you know?”
“Yes.”
“Woah, and you admit it like that, so casually.”
I grab my head with both hands and press it trying to control the headache, I know I need to be objective about it, but I just don’t know how right now.
“Since when?”
“Your parents told me during my first session with them.”
I continue to stare, and I think she can see the anger through my eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well, Joana, first of all because it wasn’t my place to do so. My job is to help you manage your emotions and provide the tools so you can learn to express yourself, but I can’t get involved in family problems. Besides, your parents told me in confidence, and you know I can’t break the confidentiality agreement.”
“I see.”
I lay back on the couch and drop my head backwards.
“Joana, I think its time to talk about what they told you yesterday. As hard as it may be.”
I look up and nod with my head.
“Fine.”
I leave therapy without feeling much better, my head is still spiraling and I still feel static all around me, my mind is not in the right place yet, however, it might feel a little lighter, at least light enough that it goes some place else for days, for the first time I’m not thinking about Instagram or Facebook or anything like that. I think about Cris and how worried she must be, I haven’t texted her since yesterday and I didn’t go to school today because we had to move up my therapy appointment.
I text my mother to let her know I’ll be late and that I’ll let her know when I figure out at what time, I might feel lighter but I still don’t feel like talking to them, or see them, or be in the same room as them basically. So, I get on the subway and head to, where I hope, I’ll find some peace… even if that means ignoring the fact that I still don’t understand why Cris keeps showing up in my dreams.
