I've decided to end this with the divorce of my parents, and what the court decides for child time. Believe it or not, it isn't over yet. After all this time. Anyway.
Mom got a therapist. For all of us. The whole family.
As I sat there, trying to look normal, put together, I realized that this was the most normal thing in the world to be doing on a Monday afternoon. But that's when our therapist's came in. There was a man, Craig, and a lady, Erin. Craig took my brothers to a room, while Erin took my Mom and I to another. She said she wanted to talk to both of us, then just me. We sat awkwardly in the chairs. I was waiting for that first dreaded question. That horrible......"So why are you here today?"
Mom hurriedly started talking about Dad, and she started from the beginning. I interjected only when I felt there was something that needed to be said or that I would refer to in the future. Erin's eyes darted from my Mom to me, even when my Mom was talking. I knew she was reading my expression. I kept my mask on. I was getting a little anxious this part was taking so long.......
Oh. I must say something. I had been dealing with anxiety for about a couple of weeks straight now. I would be sick in the morning, sometimes during the day.....pretty much all the time. If I ate to much I would throw up. I couldn't sleep. Sometimes I was able to pinpoint the cause of the anxiety and calm myself down, other times I was unable to. It was just there.
Then there was a knock on the door, the boys coming to join us with Craig. I panicked. I didn't want to leave thinking about the past without even talking about the present. I had prepared myself to talk about a lot. Craig started asking us all questions. He asked me which sibling I was closest too. Well. I wanted to say I was a fake, therefore my relationships were pretty fake. But I answered his questions, I could tell he was reading me.
As we were getting ready to rap up, Erin asked if we could go over, to talk to me alone. *relief* When the door closed, I thanked her, telling her I didn't like thinking about the past. She nodded, smiled. I told her about a lot of the present. My promise to my best friend. The self-harm. The pain. My trust issues. The guilt I felt for my parent's separation because I felt I had taken my Mom's place. She stopped writing, looked at me and said "This wasn't your fault." I nodded, hesitant. She said we would work on it later.
She was the only person who didn't give a wink when I told her everything. She listened, but she didn't treat me like a........a case. A nut case. Or with kid gloves. I told her I had researched anxiety, that I dealt with it a lot. She raised her eyebrow, sometime surprised at the fact I had researched. She told me it was common anxiety more than likely. I told her I had tried to find the root problem. *nod* I told her......about my struggles with perfection. I told her I felt I had to be perfect because of everything. She told me as she wrote that no one was perfect. I told her I wanted to heal. She smiled and said "I'm excited to start working with you." I smiled.
Excited. Not many people show enthusiasm for helping someone like me. For wanting to help me, even after she had heard a peek of my past, what I dealt with. I think I wanted to throw some of the big things at her......just to see if she still wanted to help me after all she had heard. If she would drop me. Give up on me. Nope.
I woke up the next morning, stomach-ache free. I didn't have nightmares. The nightmares where I dreamed Tavie relapsed, or my Dad kidnapped all us kids, or worse........I slept in.
I ate that day. More than I had eaten in a while.