The Grace in the Fall

Friends.

*3 Months Later*

My life has fallen into a certain rhythm. On Mondays I visit Doctor Alston, my new Therapist. On Tuesdays I do whatever Kayla and Logan drag me into. Kayla and Logan heard about my brief hospitalization and dropped by one day. We got to talking and the rest is history. They introduced me to their friends and I have to say they are a great group of people. On Wednesdays I try whatever new thing Dr. Alston wants me to do. On Thursdays I go back to Dr Alston and tell her about whatever she has me doing. Fridays my mom and I either go out to a movie or stay in and watch a movie. Saturdays are a wildcard. On Sundays my mom always invited Carson over for dinner.

I've gotten to be good friends with Carson, I like having him around. I don't know what it is about him but as soon as he is here all tension is relieved. My mom tries to include him in everything we do. For a while it puzzled me because it didn't make sense, but then I began to notice all the checks he was sending to my mom. After doing a little research I found out he was sending exactly the going rate for Dr. Alston. It made more sense why he was around so often. I was still kind of confused about why he was paying for Therapy though. I get that he and my mom were friends but not many people pay for their friend's therapy, even if they have the means to do so.

Today was Thursday, that means I have back to back appointments at the hospital. Thursdays were the worst days. After Therapy I had to go across the hospital to the STD Treatment center. It's the worst I tell you.

On the way to the Hospital my mom was quiet. This was a very odd thing because usually she talks to fill my brain with her meaningless chatter. I've noticed this a lot. She tries very hard to keep my mind distracted or preoccupied during all hours of the day. Today she was silent. She looked like she was thinking about something that was bugging her. I hadn't seen her look like that in a while. While we were stopped at a red light she was continually tapping her fingers against the steering wheel.

She definitely was distracted by something. It was 40 minutes to the hospital and so I was sitting alone with my thoughts for 40 minutes. It just didn't make sense for my mom to be worried. Our family is doing well financially, and even if we weren't, judging from past experience, Carson could probably lend us some money to get through hard times. It wasn't me, or at least I don't think it was me. I have been doing pretty well lately. I'll have a nightmare once or twice a week but nothing that I couldn't shake off after being awake for a while. The last time I had a PTSD attack was sometime last month and I talked with my therapist about it, even she thinks I'm on the mend.

"Mom, seriously, what's going on?" I asked her as she pulled into the parking lot of the Hospital.

She bit her lip before answering, "Nothing, hon, I'm fine."

I raised an eyebrow and she reinforced her argument with a "what do you want, child?" look.

"You are going to be late. Go in." She told me.

I debated whether or not I should listen. If this was really important we could always talk about it later. Besides I would feel awful if I wasted Carson's money. I got out of the car and walked into the office.

The Office seemed a little brighter this morning. The curtains were drawn to let in the natural light. I appreciated the change. I always felt places were more welcoming with natural light rather than fluorescent lights.

I sat in the office for a few minutes. My mom always dropped me off slightly early. She has this thing where she cannot possibly fathom even being a minute late. It's like she has something to prove to someone.

The office was quiet. Two other people were sitting in the waiting room to see their respective therapists. I never made small talk with anyone in the lobby. Everyone seemed so enveloped in their own world that it would seem weird to try to talk to them. Also, I couldn't possibly bring myself to speak to them if they don't talk to me first.