Page 56 of Only the Small Bones
I spent some time reviewing the foundation’s quarterly reports, and signing important documents. Next, I scheduled some time to meet with my team to get caught up on the things I’d neglected. I then did a little journaling before calling it a night.
My therapist suggested it as a tool for stress reduction and symptom control. Journaling helped with self-awareness, and dissecting and avoiding triggers. It was the biggest game changer for me so far.
I also slept better when I wrote down everything pent up inside of me before bed, instead of carrying it into my dreams. It also helped to see how far I’d come after revisiting prior entries.
My mornings were dedicated to meditation, affirmations, and exercise. She’d suggested that too.
A text alert woke me up. I felt around the nightstand for my phone, knocking a few things over in the process before grabbing it.
The bright backlight stung my eyes as the screen lit up. I extended my arm as far away as possible, squinting until my eyes adjusted.
Ryan:Are you there?
I shot up, fumbling the phone and tangling it in the sheets for a second before replying.
Me:I’m here.
I checked the time and sent another text.
Me:What are you still doing awake? Are you okay?
Ryan:It wasn’t late when I picked up the phone to text you.
I huffed a short laugh, the sound sleep heavy. How long had it taken him to figure out the mechanics?
Me:Didn’t Dr. Shwartz show you how to use it?
Ryan:Yeah, it wasn’t that. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to talk to you yet.
Ryan:I thought I needed to be all better first.
There’d been a brief interlude before he added that.
Me:Are you all better?
Ryan:No. I’m still just getting better. But I think I always will be.
Me: I think I’ll always just be getting better too.
Life was a journey not a destination. We would always be a work in progress. Dr. Stein told me that.
Ryan:I miss you.
I hadn’t expected that so soon, if at all. It was a welcome surprise, one I didn’t realize my heart needed.
Me:I miss you too.
I gripped the phone, watching the screen for his reply.
Ryan:I like it here. Dr. Shwartz says I’m making great progress.
I wanted to know what their sessions were about, if they were anything like mine were years ago. How deep into his life had they gotten so far? How far back did her questions go? Fromthe moment he was sold? Before he was taken? Or all that must have transpired in between? Had he forgotten anything that happened to him? Sometimes trauma victims block the most painful memories from their mind. I wished that were true in my case. But if it was true for him, would he ever get those memories back? The urge to ask ate away at me.
Ryan:My literacy tutor says I’m a fast learner.
I could see the proof of it through our exchange. His spelling had improved a great deal, and his responses were quick too. I wanted to ask if he’d spoken yet, but the question felt too insensitive. And I didn’t want him to feel like the strides he’d made so far weren’t more than enough.
Me:I can tell. I hear the excitement through your responses, and you text faster than I do. My fingers are too big for the keys.
