Fia’s First Day of Therapy…Ever (17 years ago)

I found this in a diary entry from 17 years ago… my first session with a psychologist.  I had written it in third person and thought that was interesting, so kept it that way.  I guess it was as if everything was happening to someone else…  But this is my account dated September 1993.

She walked in and immediately the surroundings brought back the time that she most wanted to erase from her memory, the guilt ridden howls in the bathroom, the desparate calls searching for answers, the imprisoment that had controlled her very existence.  Years of solitude had passed as she watched through glass windows at those on the outside, all those who had no idea what lay beneath that pseudo smile, and the deep pools of brown, engulfed many times by rainstorms and cries of death.

“Come in,” said the doctor.  Fia sat on the couch filled with pillows, multicolored, wondering why they were there , wondering how many people had spilled their guts onto them and their tears.  She noticed the box of tissues, it was so far away, why would this doctor keep the tissues so far away? Anyway, all Fia wanted was a place to rest, to find some kind of peace, even just to sleep in the multicolored pillows as the doctor would watch over her, making sure she was safe.  I don’t want to talk she thought, I don’t want to tell you the torment that lays in my soul, I don’t want to be listened to, I don’t want to hear advice that will seem plausible for a few fleeting moments and then like a small ray of sunshine that filters throught he clouds on a dark day vanish…  I just want to sleep.  But, she knew she couldn’t ask that, after all she had asked for help and this woman, this doctor, this “Superhuman”, would give her all the answers, wouldn’t she?

So, it began.  “You know Fia, your story is not as unique as you think it is.”  ANGER filled the corpse in front of the doctor.  She knew she would not see that ray today.  In those few words, the doctor had destroyed any chance of moving the dark clouds… She opened herself up to this woman, told of the demons that haunted her in the night, told her how she couldn’t bear one more day, hour, second, but her story was NOT unique..

Doctor looked at her watch, time was up.  “Let me pencil you in for next week.” ANGER

Fia gathered every last bit of strength she had left, paid the DR., gave her one last look of DESPERATION and decided right then and there it was inevitable, nothing would save her, and walked out the door.  The color of the sky matched her thoughts.  surrounded by people, hundreds, thousands, she wondered where they were going.  Their eyes were fixed on one place, their destination, but where.  Maybe it was a place filled with laughter, and love and joy.  She quickly negated that thought and remembered the tulips, pink, yellow, long stading  tulips who proudly took their position  in the garden.  They provided what seemed like seconds colors that splashed into the souls of those who strolled by them.  But for Fia those tulips were stupid, a facade, like love regal at it’s best but always ending.  Soon, those tulips would lose thier pride, whither , the stem unable to hold any longer the beauty.  They would break bit by bit, until all that was left was a fleeting memory.  People rely too much on tulips, she thought.  Fia preferred the trees.  TRUTH.. Bare in the seasons she hated most but always standing, even in the gloomiest of days always standing, showing the reality of existence.  Stupid people, she thought…


2 Responses

  1. Oh!!! Oh!! Didn’t you just HATE that self-righteous doctor? I’ve seen my share of them and never returned…a few doctors have asked me if my daughter, (who was sexually abused,) has started “cutting” yet. As though it is a certainty, and they KNOW it’s in her future…
    I hope you have found a better doctor/counselor…
    Lindsey Petersen

  2. Oh I could write a book about stupid, stupid doctors, therapists, psych ward staff…. Ugh. I’m right with you on that one !!!

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