'Hello Joan, I'm glad you could make it into therapy today'
I smiled as I entered the room, looking around to the familiar surroundings. The white walls, a green plant in the corner of the office, the fish bowl with no fish sitting right beside it. It was like an added irony to the therapy room. There was a painting above the sofa, I looked at it as if in a trance, I still couldn't make out what it was. I frowned at my continued frustration to decipher it.
I figured it had to be a happy piece, only because of the reds and oranges that were splattered around the canvas. What was it with therapists and their rooms? The need to make everything clean, spotless. I supposed it was some doctor code.
'would you like to sit?' She said snapping me back to reality. I looked at her and nodded then sat on the couch facing her. I looked at my therapist, her face was framed by her large reading glasses. She tried to smile to reassure me. She didn't need to, her eyes were gentle. She had that face.
'So how was your day today?' She asked kindly. Small talk was always the beginning of the session. I was accustomed to it. I had a pre-prepared answer.
'It was okay,' I said simply then shrugged. Was there more to say? What was I doing in this place? Am I traumatized? Depressed? In need of someone to talk to? Maybe it was because she had that face. I smiled to myself at my sense of humor.
'Just okay? She looked deep into my eyes. I shrugged again not wanting to repeat myself. She understood and nodded. She looked down at the pad on her lap before she scribbled a note quickly. Looking up to me she tilted her head and took a deep breathe. Was she frustrated with me? My lack of trying.
'It was another day Doc, nothing eventful I'm afraid.' I added before she thought of another question to throw across the room to me. I was aware of her ability to question me to get to the "problem within". What if I didn't have a problem and my day was just a day? What if my visits were just for conversation?
'Have you gone out lately?' She asked trying to lighten the subject.
'Well, I go out everyday. I have a job you know.' I snapped back quickly with a smirk. I was pleased with myself for outsmarting the doctor in the room.
'I mean somewhere else other than work.' she said gently not taking offence to my my smartass nature. I looked at her, at that face.
'No, Not really' I replied and let my eyes wonder around the room. The desk she placed in the corner had a glass top and white horn like leg support. Now that was a masterpiece unlike the art on the wall. I decided her taste was weird but then again no "normal" person would opt to listen to crazy ramblings for a living. I slowly peeled my eyes from the desk and back to her. She had been watching me. I looked at her questioning. I wondered what she thought of me. I was pretty sure I wasn't the weirdest person she saw today. The thought made me feel better about myself.
'Why?'she asked again in her friendly therapy voice
'because-' I stopped myself. I didn't have an answer really except the very ridiculous reason that I knew would probably make her roll the eyes within her eyes. I shook my head at the thought, she was the doctor, a therapist for that matter. Weird wasn't really something I needed to worry about. I was sure she's heard it all. '...because I'm bored with people.' I finished my sentence slowly, looking at her in search for a reaction, any reaction would have worked.
'What do you mean?' I took a deep breathe and looked at her poker face. Should I really answer the question? What would answering that do for me other than maybe take me to the top of her weirdo list. I wondered what others talked about here. Suicides? Trauma? I decided this was just conversation and for the first time since we started, I decided she deserved my truth.
'Well,' I shifted in my seat and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my thighs. 'I'm bored of people. they do the same things over and over again. They wake up, shower, work, go out, at the end of the day to "socialise"', I said it with emphasis in a deeper voice, I paused as i gathered my thoughts before continuing, ' after that they go home, fuck and then sleep mostly with strangers or people they don't want to take time to know then wait for the next day to do the same thing over again.' I took another breathe shaking my head. 'I cannot do that, I am not like the normal person. I wake up, shower and work- sure, but after that I run home and lock my door and hide my head and thoughts behind a book.'
'Why would you think that is not normal?'
'Well that one is easy!' I said more to myself, 'I don't want to go out. I try, believe me I do. I make plans, Hell, I even come up with suggestions of something I could do with people -friends. When I get home though, I start pacing in a panic wondering what in the world I was thinking suggesting something I didn't want to do!? I get a small panic attack. The idea of sitting there, laughing, cracking the jokes, making the people around me smile, holding conversations-' I let out a nervous laugh.
'Then why do you do it?' She asked, again with the therapy voice. 'Why do you make suggestions?'
'Because...' I couldn't think of a reason really. I searched my brain for the reason behind it. 'Maybe I hate the idea of letting people down, or maybe I hate being a party pooper, maybe to fulfill my predestined task to make everyone around me smile?'
'Do you think that is why you were born into the earth?' She leaned forward. I looked at her then shrugged
'Do you?' I returned the question.
'I don't know,' she said honestly, 'How would i know when I am YOU?'
I smiled as I entered the room, looking around to the familiar surroundings. The white walls, a green plant in the corner of the office, the fish bowl with no fish sitting right beside it. It was like an added irony to the therapy room. There was a painting above the sofa, I looked at it as if in a trance, I still couldn't make out what it was. I frowned at my continued frustration to decipher it.
I figured it had to be a happy piece, only because of the reds and oranges that were splattered around the canvas. What was it with therapists and their rooms? The need to make everything clean, spotless. I supposed it was some doctor code.
'would you like to sit?' She said snapping me back to reality. I looked at her and nodded then sat on the couch facing her. I looked at my therapist, her face was framed by her large reading glasses. She tried to smile to reassure me. She didn't need to, her eyes were gentle. She had that face.
'So how was your day today?' She asked kindly. Small talk was always the beginning of the session. I was accustomed to it. I had a pre-prepared answer.
'It was okay,' I said simply then shrugged. Was there more to say? What was I doing in this place? Am I traumatized? Depressed? In need of someone to talk to? Maybe it was because she had that face. I smiled to myself at my sense of humor.
'Just okay? She looked deep into my eyes. I shrugged again not wanting to repeat myself. She understood and nodded. She looked down at the pad on her lap before she scribbled a note quickly. Looking up to me she tilted her head and took a deep breathe. Was she frustrated with me? My lack of trying.
'It was another day Doc, nothing eventful I'm afraid.' I added before she thought of another question to throw across the room to me. I was aware of her ability to question me to get to the "problem within". What if I didn't have a problem and my day was just a day? What if my visits were just for conversation?
'Have you gone out lately?' She asked trying to lighten the subject.
'Well, I go out everyday. I have a job you know.' I snapped back quickly with a smirk. I was pleased with myself for outsmarting the doctor in the room.
'I mean somewhere else other than work.' she said gently not taking offence to my my smartass nature. I looked at her, at that face.
'No, Not really' I replied and let my eyes wonder around the room. The desk she placed in the corner had a glass top and white horn like leg support. Now that was a masterpiece unlike the art on the wall. I decided her taste was weird but then again no "normal" person would opt to listen to crazy ramblings for a living. I slowly peeled my eyes from the desk and back to her. She had been watching me. I looked at her questioning. I wondered what she thought of me. I was pretty sure I wasn't the weirdest person she saw today. The thought made me feel better about myself.
'Why?'she asked again in her friendly therapy voice
'because-' I stopped myself. I didn't have an answer really except the very ridiculous reason that I knew would probably make her roll the eyes within her eyes. I shook my head at the thought, she was the doctor, a therapist for that matter. Weird wasn't really something I needed to worry about. I was sure she's heard it all. '...because I'm bored with people.' I finished my sentence slowly, looking at her in search for a reaction, any reaction would have worked.
'What do you mean?' I took a deep breathe and looked at her poker face. Should I really answer the question? What would answering that do for me other than maybe take me to the top of her weirdo list. I wondered what others talked about here. Suicides? Trauma? I decided this was just conversation and for the first time since we started, I decided she deserved my truth.
'Well,' I shifted in my seat and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my thighs. 'I'm bored of people. they do the same things over and over again. They wake up, shower, work, go out, at the end of the day to "socialise"', I said it with emphasis in a deeper voice, I paused as i gathered my thoughts before continuing, ' after that they go home, fuck and then sleep mostly with strangers or people they don't want to take time to know then wait for the next day to do the same thing over again.' I took another breathe shaking my head. 'I cannot do that, I am not like the normal person. I wake up, shower and work- sure, but after that I run home and lock my door and hide my head and thoughts behind a book.'
'Why would you think that is not normal?'
'Well that one is easy!' I said more to myself, 'I don't want to go out. I try, believe me I do. I make plans, Hell, I even come up with suggestions of something I could do with people -friends. When I get home though, I start pacing in a panic wondering what in the world I was thinking suggesting something I didn't want to do!? I get a small panic attack. The idea of sitting there, laughing, cracking the jokes, making the people around me smile, holding conversations-' I let out a nervous laugh.
'Then why do you do it?' She asked, again with the therapy voice. 'Why do you make suggestions?'
'Because...' I couldn't think of a reason really. I searched my brain for the reason behind it. 'Maybe I hate the idea of letting people down, or maybe I hate being a party pooper, maybe to fulfill my predestined task to make everyone around me smile?'
'Do you think that is why you were born into the earth?' She leaned forward. I looked at her then shrugged
'Do you?' I returned the question.
'I don't know,' she said honestly, 'How would i know when I am YOU?'
