Page 7 of Kissing Chaos
“I’m not really sure where to start,” I admit, running my thumbnail up and down the opposite arm.
“How about we start with confirming your diagnoses, and we can go from there? I glanced over your file but want to make sure we’re on the same page.”
“Inattentive ADHD. Mild depressive episodes. Anxiety attacks. Just load me up with the neuro-spiciness, am I right?” Cringing, I do my best to make eye contact to convey my apology. “Sorry, I blab when I’m nervous, and today has been a day.”
“There’s no reason to apologize.” She studies me for only a moment before asking, “Do you like dogs?”
I nod while picking at invisible lint on my jeans.
“Be right back,” she says before hopping up and nearly skipping out the door. How in the world is she this giddy in the middle of a workday when she’s listening to other people’s problems all day?
Not two minutes later, she’s back in the room with the absolute cutest red merle Australian Shepherd puppy on a leash. “This is Honor. She’s a therapy dog in training. Sometimes it’s easier for people to talk to her than it is to talk to me. Sometimes just giving your hands something to do like petting a dog can ease your anxiety as well.” She leads Honor over to me. The purple harness vest withTherapy Dog in Trainingstitched on the sides nearly swallows the pup whole. Honor hops up next to me, and I scratch behind her ears, her back leg thumping a few times.
Kristen watches us for a moment before saying, “Why don’t I hang back, and you tell her about whatever it is that’s weighing so heavily on you.” She unhooks the leash and walks over to her desk on the other side of the room before turning on some soft instrumental music.
I let the pup curl up in my lap, running my fingers through her fur. Her coat is almost down-like in texture. I feel for knots, sinking my fingers deep into the layers of hair, but find none. “You’re such a cutie pie. But I bet you know that already.”
She just looks at me expectantly, like she knows I am supposed to tell her my life’s story. She can’t be more than sixmonths old, but there’s an old soul looking out of those blue and brown eyes.
“Boys are icky. Stay away from them.” That irritating feeling of pinpricks behind my eyes and the weight in my chest are back. I try, boy, do I try to keep the tears at bay. But I let my head fall forward, resting my forehead on the pup’s side as a few tears escape. Honor curls tighter against me as if she knows I need the support.
“Relationships aren’t for me, pup. If I haven’t found a guy that can put up with all my sides by this point in life, I think it’s safe to say that I won’t. Maybe I’ll just get twelve cats and be happy that way.”
Honor tilts her head as if to call me on the lie.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll just get a couple puppies instead.”
I go back to absentmindedly running my fingers through her coat. I don’t know how much time passes, but I eventually lift my head, wiping the remaining wetness on the back of my hand. Kristen looks up from whatever she is working on at her computer, her glow still present.
“Sorry for having a breakdown in your office. I know you’d probably rather be anywhere else than in an appointment with someone who isn’t actually a client. Especially one that isn’t even talking to you.”
She stands, coming back toward the couch but sitting far enough away so as not to invade the safety of the bubble-like area I’ve created. How she can sense that barrier, I don’t know. I’m thankful, though, that she doesn’t force me.
“There’s nothing wrong with crying. If we kept it all bottled up, we’d make ourselves sick. This room is a safe space. As long as you aren’t causing harm to yourself or someone else, anything goes in here. If that means you spend it receiving puppy snuggles, so be it.”
I hum my understanding, fidgeting with my fingers after I’ve removed my hands from Honor. As soon as I recognize the nervous action, I return my hands to the red-and-white coat. My eyes stay focused on the dog, but I speak to Kristen.
“I found my boyfriend with his ding-dong in someone else’s ditch.”
I huff a laugh as I glance up in time to watch confusion flit across Dr. Flynn’s face, but the corner of her lips rise in amusement. It is probably not my best analogy.
“I’d hate to interpret that incorrectly. Do you want to clarify what you mean?”
“Exactly how it sounds. He and his friend were getting it on whenever I wasn’t around.”
“And how are you handling it?”
“Oh, I’m not. I am effectively evading any and all emotions related to Joey. He can think I’m too much to handle all he likes.” I sniffle, the slight burn in my throat and the tip of my nose giving away how close I am to tears. A little laugh escapes on a breath, although nothing about this is humorous. “Hell, if only that was the case. I’d love to be as strong as my words, but the truth is I’m barely holding it together.”
“I’m sorry your ex couldn’t recognize your attributes as the unique characteristics they are. How long ago was the breakup?” This lady truly looks interested in my sarcastic spiral. She’s either a fantastic actress, or I’ve lucked up and found an empathetic therapist who gives a damn about her patients. I’m hoping it is the latter.
“About three weeks ago.”
“And do you have a support system to help you move past it?”
“Technically I do, but I haven’t told my brother or best friend much about what happened. Just that we split. They won’t get it, why he left.” My mind drifts off to the memory of thatTuesday afternoon and everything that was said. That day lives in a small box in the back of my mind, and the emotions are only allowed out to play when I am alone.
“It just happened, Jett. Maybe those feelings have always been there. I don’t know. But one minute she was telling me about how she was hurting from her last breakup and the next we were wrapped up in each other’s arms. We were trying to find the right time to tell you.”
