Page 127 of Like You Want It
Because of her, my stupid ass brother has started coming to family functions again instead of assuming that we don’t want him there.
“You’re just a little miracle, aren’t you?” I whisper to her.
She responds by putting her hands back on my face and twisting my beard.
The therapist’s door opens out to the waiting room, and Susie emerges, her eyes red but her smile genuine.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
She nods and dabs under her nose with a tissue. “Yeah, and…” she glances back then steps to the side. A large man emerges, who I can only assume is her therapist. “Dr. Takahashi said he had a cancellation in his next hour if you’d still like to explore therapy.”
My whole body flushes. I glance around, though I know the waiting room is empty.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Mr. Callaghan,” the doctor says, his expression kind, his smile large on his face. “And I’m happy to do this first meeting for free. Your sister has said some amazing things about you, and I’d be honored to provide a service to a veteran.”
There’s a ripple inside of me that starts in my arms and slides through my entire body at a rapid pace.
I don’t want this. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want him looking at me. Like there’s something wrong with me that needs to be fixed. I don’t need to be fixed. I’m fine. Completely fine.
“Fin.”
Susie’s voice, soft and caring, comes from my right. I look, and find her right next to me, watching me with concern.
“I think it would be a good idea.”
Everything inside of me is protesting. But I also think back to what it was like when I was going through the Academy, or SEAL training, or any number of other things that were good for me, good for my body or mind.
It was always hard at first. Felt unnatural. Made me uncomfortable.
Maybe this was like that.
And I should just give it one shot.
I nod my head, then hand Nell to Susie.
“We’ll just be out here, okay?” she says, though I can still hear the concern in her voice.
It’s normally me that’s apprehensive about her. When did the tables turn?
Before I know it, I find myself in Dr. Takahashi’s office, sitting in a comfortable beige armchair. There’s an oil diffuser in the corner on a small table, next to a plant and a window. Bookshelves and a desk off to the side.
And then there’s us. Face-to-face.
“I’m really uncomfortable,” I say, not sure where the blunt honesty comes from. “I don’t think therapy is for me.”
Dr. Takahashi smiles. “That’s okay, you know. Therapy isn’t a good fit for everyone.”
My shoulders ease slightly, as if his confirmation that my discomfort is normal has actually made itlessuncomfortable. “Sorry if this sounds stupid but, aren’t you supposed to tell me that everyone can benefit from therapy?”
He laughs. “Well, that’s a completely different topic. Of course I think everyone can benefit from therapy. But if someone doesn’t believe in what therapy can do for them, they likely won’t choose to actively participate, which is the only way it can benefit them. It isthosepeople that aren’t a good fit for therapy. And there’s nothing wrong with them. It’s just what they’re comfortable with. Or uncomfortable with, depending on how you see it.”
I nod, feeling like I might be one of the people in that latter group. “So how does this work? You ask me about things from my childhood and I respond and you ask me how I feel about that?”
Dr. Takahashi leans down and picks up a notepad, flipping to a new page. “You know, Fin, it looks a little different for everyone. Some people come in here and have a lot to say. Others come in and don’t know why they’re here or what to talk about.” He shrugs. “It’s completely up to you. But there isn’t arightway to go about it.”
My first instinct is to tell him that I don’t think there is a right way for me. But I try to swallow that down.
I glance at the door, thinking about Susie on the other side. How peaceful she looked when she came out of here.
