Do you want me to stop?

I blinked away the tears that seared the corners of my eyes.

No, let’s keep going.

Are you sure, we have a whole hour, you know. You can stop, collect yourself…

No, I don’t want to stop.

Okay, we’ll keep going, just remember to breath.

In inhaled sharply, letting the air conditioned oxygen burn my lungs, and gripped the sides of the chaise. The light was muted, with pale blue walls and hints of mint and aqua in the abstract artwork.

I think it was meant to disguise the clinicalness of the whole thing with calculated and  thoughtfully placed tranquility, but I knew better. I glanced at the coral on the mahogany shelves. I was in a pretend ocean, and there was no peace in that for me. Oceans were frightening, with unimaginable depth and horrible monsters. When I think of being lost and powerless, I think of being in an ocean.

Her hand touched my arm again, reminding me to exhale, and I did.

I forced the air from my lungs as I told her about my week. My week of feeling nothing but crying over everything. How I looked at people I loved as if they were strangers, and I walked around my house like a confused rhino, bumping into things with my awkward cumbersome horn. As I spoke, tears spilled over the brims of my eyes as layer by layer was torn free from me.


She met my eyes for the first time and smiled warmly.

Not so bad, right?

Gets easier every time.

I told you. Now get on your knees, spread your cheeks apart, we’ll wax your butt and then you’re done.

And I’m back.

Therapy. Get’s easier every time.

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