"I think I made a mistake." I leaned forward with
hands covering my eyes as I spoke.
"No shit, we've been down this road before." The irritation in her voice was more noticeable than it should be (or so I thought).
"Are shrinks supposed to curse?" With elbows on my knees, my hands pulled away from my eyes to the side of my head. I waited as the blurry vision slowly gave way to a recognizable face. The crossed arms and tight lips were a clear signal of the mood.
"I am a therapist." The irritation continued to fill the air.
"Oh, right, so are therapists supposed to cuss?" The question was clearly presented to her, but its rhetorical and philosophical nature floated through my mind while waiting for a response.
"I don't know of any rules against it."
"You may want to create one, because those words were unnecessary." The sarcasm slowly seeped into the conversation and I wondered if she had or would notice.
"It was one word." Her arms remained crossed.
"My mom always told me I could make my point without such language." While she did actually say this, it was aimed at my father and never me - I never cursed in her presence.
"Now, let's get back to your mistake that has dominated our time together for the past few months. Do you have fresh insight or questions today?" She finally released her arms and methodically opened the - my - file folder with pen ready like a stenographer.
"No, this is a different topic." I had always loved these sessions since I mostly told the truth and rarely had to repeat myself. She actually listened and remembered, but today I would have to lay the foundation as a new topic was in front of me.
"Oh really, so you made another mistake?"
"Yeah, nice, that makes me feel good. You know we are the products of sin, so, well, you know the rest." Her response had been condescending and it struck a nerve. Did she hate me? She was just like everybody else, waiting for me to screw up - again.
"I thought you hated religion?" She didn't look up from her writing as she threw past assertions in my face.
"I do, I was just kidding." I wasn't kidding. She hurt my feelings, but I'd never admit it to her face.
"Ah, raising the shield again?" Her glasses slid to the end of her nose as her hand moved furiously across the page.
"You started it."
"Hmm, well, let's get back to the mistake. What happened?" She pushed the glasses up the bridge of her nose while looking in my eyes.
"Nothing new happened, it's the same thing, but I'm thinking I went the wrong way." The feeling was surreal as my thoughts were finally released. I listened to my voice as it was released and pondered what was said, and I couldn't disagree with the statement.
"Oh really, why have you changed your mind after this long?" Her interest was obviously piqued as she leaned forward.
"Well, I was thinking and I made one of those pros and cons lists like you told me about last year, or somebody told me about it." Actually, I remembered the exact day she brought up the idea of such a list - it was October 3 of the previous year, but I thought it would be creepy to say it.
"Interesting." The arms were crossed again as she glanced at the clock on a nearby table.
"That's all you have to say? And, by the way, we have plenty of time." I was trying to remember why I enjoyed visiting her.
"I assumed you would elaborate, but I guess I need to play the game and beg for the details?" The hand was moving again as she recorded her thoughts or maybe she was making a grocery list, I always wanted to see that file. I wondered how hard it would be to break into her office.
"No, I am going to tell you, but your attitude is disappointing."
"I apologize, it has been a long day."
"Forget about it." There was no way I was going to forget about it.
"There is something I want or need to ask you." She sat waiting for my signal to move forward or stop.
"What is it?" I hated being asked if I could be asked a question, it was nothing but a waste of time.
"I've been reviewing my notes and discussed your issues - abstractly of course - with a colleague and we arrived at one conclusion, or question." She removed the glasses and wiped the lenses with a tissue - such a cliche move for a therapist.
"What is it?" I felt the sweat on my forehead as my heart pounded in my chest. I couldn't understand why I was afraid of what she was going to say, but my intuition was telling me to leave but I made no movement.
"Well, the thing is, or the question I keep asking myself is about your story or mistake as you describe it. Call it a gut feeling, but I can't help wondering if any of this ever actually happened?" Her hand hovered over her tablet with pen ready to scribble whatever.
"No shit, we've been down this road before." The irritation in her voice was more noticeable than it should be (or so I thought).
"Are shrinks supposed to curse?" With elbows on my knees, my hands pulled away from my eyes to the side of my head. I waited as the blurry vision slowly gave way to a recognizable face. The crossed arms and tight lips were a clear signal of the mood.
"I am a therapist." The irritation continued to fill the air.
"Oh, right, so are therapists supposed to cuss?" The question was clearly presented to her, but its rhetorical and philosophical nature floated through my mind while waiting for a response.
"I don't know of any rules against it."
"You may want to create one, because those words were unnecessary." The sarcasm slowly seeped into the conversation and I wondered if she had or would notice.
"It was one word." Her arms remained crossed.
"My mom always told me I could make my point without such language." While she did actually say this, it was aimed at my father and never me - I never cursed in her presence.
"Now, let's get back to your mistake that has dominated our time together for the past few months. Do you have fresh insight or questions today?" She finally released her arms and methodically opened the - my - file folder with pen ready like a stenographer.
"No, this is a different topic." I had always loved these sessions since I mostly told the truth and rarely had to repeat myself. She actually listened and remembered, but today I would have to lay the foundation as a new topic was in front of me.
"Oh really, so you made another mistake?"
"Yeah, nice, that makes me feel good. You know we are the products of sin, so, well, you know the rest." Her response had been condescending and it struck a nerve. Did she hate me? She was just like everybody else, waiting for me to screw up - again.
"I thought you hated religion?" She didn't look up from her writing as she threw past assertions in my face.
"I do, I was just kidding." I wasn't kidding. She hurt my feelings, but I'd never admit it to her face.
"Ah, raising the shield again?" Her glasses slid to the end of her nose as her hand moved furiously across the page.
"You started it."
"Hmm, well, let's get back to the mistake. What happened?" She pushed the glasses up the bridge of her nose while looking in my eyes.
"Nothing new happened, it's the same thing, but I'm thinking I went the wrong way." The feeling was surreal as my thoughts were finally released. I listened to my voice as it was released and pondered what was said, and I couldn't disagree with the statement.
"Oh really, why have you changed your mind after this long?" Her interest was obviously piqued as she leaned forward.
"Well, I was thinking and I made one of those pros and cons lists like you told me about last year, or somebody told me about it." Actually, I remembered the exact day she brought up the idea of such a list - it was October 3 of the previous year, but I thought it would be creepy to say it.
"Interesting." The arms were crossed again as she glanced at the clock on a nearby table.
"That's all you have to say? And, by the way, we have plenty of time." I was trying to remember why I enjoyed visiting her.
"I assumed you would elaborate, but I guess I need to play the game and beg for the details?" The hand was moving again as she recorded her thoughts or maybe she was making a grocery list, I always wanted to see that file. I wondered how hard it would be to break into her office.
"No, I am going to tell you, but your attitude is disappointing."
"I apologize, it has been a long day."
"Forget about it." There was no way I was going to forget about it.
"There is something I want or need to ask you." She sat waiting for my signal to move forward or stop.
"What is it?" I hated being asked if I could be asked a question, it was nothing but a waste of time.
"I've been reviewing my notes and discussed your issues - abstractly of course - with a colleague and we arrived at one conclusion, or question." She removed the glasses and wiped the lenses with a tissue - such a cliche move for a therapist.
"What is it?" I felt the sweat on my forehead as my heart pounded in my chest. I couldn't understand why I was afraid of what she was going to say, but my intuition was telling me to leave but I made no movement.
"Well, the thing is, or the question I keep asking myself is about your story or mistake as you describe it. Call it a gut feeling, but I can't help wondering if any of this ever actually happened?" Her hand hovered over her tablet with pen ready to scribble whatever.
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