Page 71 of Tameron

I nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. The anger, the bitterness, the resentment—it was like a poison, seeping into every aspect of your life until it consumed you. My whole breakdown—as I now referred to it—the week before had been about that. About that simmering anger inside me that had nowhere to go…

Except it did.

When I was first diagnosed, my therapist talked to me about the stages of grief and informed me I would be going through something very similar. She’d then recommended going to a rage room to let that anger out. I’d done it twice, and Jesus, that had been both fun and therapeutic. I’d felt so much better after.

But then I’d decided I was done with those stages and would be accepting my new life…and I stopped going to therapy andstopped working on my anger. Fuuuuuck. God, I was gonna hate every second of telling Nash that group therapy had been an excellent idea. Though, in all fairness, it had been more of an order than a suggestion, but that was Nash for ya.

I cleared my throat. “I recommend a rage room.”

“A what?” Maria asked.

“A rage room. It’s this space you can rent for, like, fifteen minutes or something, and they give you a baseball bat to beat the shit out of old furniture, TVs, glass, you name it. It sounds stupid, but it’s?—”

“That doesn’t sound stupid at all.” Maria sat up a little straighter. “That sounds amazing, actually. I need to suggest that for our next date night.”

Going to a rage room on a date with your wife? That had to be a lesbian thing ’cause I couldn’t think of anything less romantic. But hey, power to them.

“Is that something you do regularly?” Dr. Chen asked me.

I sank a little lower in my seat. “I did it twice. Felt amazing. And then I…stopped.”

“Can I ask why?”

Of course she would ask. I shrugged. “I didn’t think I needed it anymore.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

Oh, she was good. I wasn’t sure what she’d seen on my face, but she’d definitely picked up on something. I sighed, knowing there was no point in lying. “No. I don’t. I thought I was past the anger stage, but I’m not. It’s still there, simmering under the surface, waiting to explode.”

Dr. Chen’s expression was thoughtful. “That’s a great insight, Tameron. Recognizing when we need help, when we need an outlet, is a huge step. And it’s okay to need that outlet, even if you thought you were past that stage. Grief and anger aren’t linear. They come and go in waves.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Yeah. I’m starting to see that.”

“Anger is a natural response to loss and change. It’s not something you can will away or ignore. It’s something you have to work through, in your own time and in your own way.”

“And how do I do that?” I asked, hating how lost I sounded.

“By acknowledging it. By giving yourself permission to feel it. And by finding healthy outlets for it, like the rage room you mentioned.”

I chewed on my lip, considering her words. It made sense, in a way. I’d been so focused on trying to pretend everything was fine, on trying to be strong so no one would see how much of a mess I was, that I hadn’t given myself the space to actually feel what I was feeling. To process it. Shit, did that mean I’d have to start all over again?

Dr. Chen glanced at the clock. “We’re almost out of time for today, but I want to leave you all with a challenge. This week, I want you to keep a gratitude journal. Every day, write down three things you’re grateful for. They can be big things or small things. It doesn’t matter. The point is to start training your brain to look for the good, even in the midst of the bad. We’ll discuss your experiences next week. Sound good?”

Homework. Should’ve seen that one coming. Kill. Me. Now.

“Tameron, can you stay behind for a moment?” Dr. Chen asked.

Was I already in trouble? But her smile was friendly as she waited until everyone else had filed out. “Just wanted to check in with you and ask how this first session was for you.”

“It was fine.”

Fine was such a perfect word that covered a multitude of sins.

“Were you able to follow? Understand everything?”

Oh, she was asking about my hearing. “Yes, thank you.”

“If there’s anything I can do to make it easier for you, please let me know. My goal is to be inclusive and accommodate for all disabilities.”

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