Page 24 of True Sight
“Seems that way,” I grumble and reposition myself on the oversized couch pushed against the back wall of her office. Looking around, I scowl at the weird artwork she has hanging from the walls as if they’ve personally offended me.
“So.” Her voice perks up as she leans over her knees, arms crossed in front of her. “How’s your week been so far? How was game night?”
She and I have talked about my friends plenty enough and our weekly ritual of Wednesday night games. In a past session, I shared with her my friend’s reactions to me starting therapy and she was thrilled to hear they were so supportive. She was even more thrilled when I told her I’d followed her advice and gotten a dog.
“It was fine.”
She sighs at my indifference and lack of detail sharing.
“Fine meaning…” she probes.
“Fine, meaning I went, my friends asked me if I was seeing anyone, Bailey and Ophelia offered to set me up with some of their friends, and Malcolm told me he would take me out one night and be my wingman.” I roll my eyes at the memory. The last thing I want is to be pimped out by my friends, especially Malcolm.
“You sound like that type of questioning bothers you,” she comments, scribbling more words down and looking at me over her glasses. I clench my jaw together and avoid her glance.
“I mean, yeah, wouldn’t you be bothered by your friends butting into your personal life?”
“Not if I consider my friends to be like my family, as you do. Family is supposed to butt in, that’s what families do, even when we don’t want them to.” She smirks at me when I cross my arms and fail to respond.
“So, howisyour personal life?” she asks and Iharumphat the inquisition. I wish people would stop asking me about my personal life.
“What? Am I not allowed to ask about it either?” she continues. “It’s either your personal life or we can talk about your nightmares. Oh, or your childhood trauma, you pick. But we will fill the next forty minutes with something other than uncomfortable silence.” Now it’s her turn to cross her arms at me except when she does, she adds an eyebrow raise to really get her point across.Why do I pay for this type of harassment every week? Oh yeah, because my friends are tired of me being a pain in the ass.
“My personal life is f?—”
“If you use the word ‘fine’ one more time today, I’mthrowing my pen at you,” she threatens, holding up the ballpoint pen she’s been using to take notes. When I squint at her, she continues, “I’m so serious right now. Pick a different word.”
“Who gave you your licenses? A five year old?” I sneer in disbelief. I can’t believe my highly rated psychiatrist just threatened to impale me with her pen.
“Pick a different word.” She raises the pen higher and while I have the urge to see if she’ll actually go through with the throw, I decide to follow her demands.
“My personal life is…the same,” I start, nearly saying the forbidden word again. “I see my friends, I do my work, and I hangout with my dog,” I explain and as I do, I realize how sad my life sounds. Hanna takes notes that I’m sure read,‘Has no life, I feel bad for this loser.’
“Is that all?”
I stare at her for a second, considering if I should tell her about my plans.
“Well, tomorrow?—”
“Tomorrow?” she repeats, looking at me with an expression that toes the line of expectant and surprised.
“Tomorrow,” I stress, trying not to get annoyed by her constant interruptions. For someone who’s supposed to listen to me talk, she’s not letting me do a lot of that today.
“Tomorrow I’m having someone over to watch a movie,” I say as casually as I can muster.
“Margaret?”
“No, not Margaret. Why does everyone think I spend all my time with Margaret? His name is Henry.” Her eyes widen when I share his name. “But he’s just like Margaret in the sense that he pretty much invited himself over.”
“Henry…” I can see the cogs moving in her head as I speak.
“He’s a client, a new client. The one I told you about with the fitness studio?” She nods her head. “Yeah, he’s, like, my age or whatever and asked me if I wanted to hangout.”
“And do you want to hangout with him?”
“I mean, no, not really.”Then why did you tell him yes so quickly?
“But yet, you guys have plans for Friday night? To…watch a movie?” I don’t like how she’s giving me the side eye and neglecting her notepad. Why isn’t she writing anything down?
