rack of clothing at LOFT anymore. I can’t up and leave a Panera because a tall, muscular man gets in line behind me. I can’t wake up in a pool of my sweat, the image of a gun between my eyes burned into my brain.
“I just feel like being here, addressing this … I feel like I’m cheating on Tucker somehow.”
The blonde doctor shakes her head. “You’re not. You’re getting healthy, getting ready for his release so you can be one hundred percent focused on getting your relationship back on track instead of working on getting past this. But, if you feel guilty, then tell him. I think it would be good to get this out in the open.”
I doubted that. “I don’t think I can tell him about this yet. I don’t want to freak him out.”
She frowns, crossing her slim leg over her other equally slim leg. While I know that therapy isn’t supposed to be easy, I’m not sure I’ve found the right shrink. I picked her because she’s on the outskirts of Lancaster, but she can be harsh at times. There are other times I feel looks of judgment from her, and that is the last thing I was coming here for. But I was a wishful person; each time I came I thought it might get better. So far, it hadn’t.
“Well then, you need to work harder to work through this then. How did this week go for you?”
I adjust the fringe on my pants and look up. She always likes it when I engage as I tell her what’s been going on.
“It hasn’t been bad. Work has been good, I am working on a new project for this hair care client. They’re an all natural brand, and I’ve been getting to test the products out. My hair is super smooth. And um, I’ve been hanging out with Jackie, my coworker, more lately, we’ve gotten close and she really understands my situation. She doesn’t judge, and like I’ve said before, that’s been hard with me and friends in the past. Since I was a child even.
She nods and scribbles. “Good. But I want to know more about how you’ve handled your anxiety this week.”
I cringe, because it hasn’t been a smooth week. And even though I don’t feel totally trusting of her, I know I’m here to open myself up.
“It’s been … all right. On Monday, I got home and a cabinet or two were open. I couldn’t remember if I’d left them open or not, so I had to sit down and take deep breathes for twenty minutes until I got the anxiety under control. And I talked myself through it, then remembered I had gotten an allergy pill and that’s why I left the cabinets open.”
She nods again. “Anything else?”
I was trying to keep this one under wraps, but it will probably feel better to talk about it. “I was in the grocery store, in the condiments aisle on Thursday, when a toddler was walking around with his mother. My back was turned, he must have knocked some pickle jars off the shelves … the noise was so loud, I shrieked and ran. I had to leave the store and sat in my car for forty minutes before I could drive home.”
“Did you practice the breathing and soothing words we talked about?”
“I did.”
“Well, I think we’ve made some good progress today. But our time is up.”
What? This is what I meant. I didn’t feel any better. Didn’t feel like I had worked through anything. The doctor starts to get up, and I know that I won’t be coming back. I’m going to face this on my own, get better so that I can fully be with Tucker once he gets out.
As I walk out of her office, disappointed in her but hopeful in myself, my phone starts to buzz in my coat pocket.
SCI Mahoney flashes across the screen.
“Hello? Tucker?”
An unfamiliar voice speaks from the other end. “Hello, Mrs. Lynch. This is Dr. Varger, I’m with the prison’s medical staff. Your husband had an incident today—“
“And incident!?” My blood level spikes as I cut him off. “What kind of incident?”
“Ma’am, unfortunately I can’t disclose the details, but I wanted to let you know of your husband’s condition. He
“I just feel like being here, addressing this … I feel like I’m cheating on Tucker somehow.”
The blonde doctor shakes her head. “You’re not. You’re getting healthy, getting ready for his release so you can be one hundred percent focused on getting your relationship back on track instead of working on getting past this. But, if you feel guilty, then tell him. I think it would be good to get this out in the open.”
I doubted that. “I don’t think I can tell him about this yet. I don’t want to freak him out.”
She frowns, crossing her slim leg over her other equally slim leg. While I know that therapy isn’t supposed to be easy, I’m not sure I’ve found the right shrink. I picked her because she’s on the outskirts of Lancaster, but she can be harsh at times. There are other times I feel looks of judgment from her, and that is the last thing I was coming here for. But I was a wishful person; each time I came I thought it might get better. So far, it hadn’t.
“Well then, you need to work harder to work through this then. How did this week go for you?”
I adjust the fringe on my pants and look up. She always likes it when I engage as I tell her what’s been going on.
“It hasn’t been bad. Work has been good, I am working on a new project for this hair care client. They’re an all natural brand, and I’ve been getting to test the products out. My hair is super smooth. And um, I’ve been hanging out with Jackie, my coworker, more lately, we’ve gotten close and she really understands my situation. She doesn’t judge, and like I’ve said before, that’s been hard with me and friends in the past. Since I was a child even.
She nods and scribbles. “Good. But I want to know more about how you’ve handled your anxiety this week.”
I cringe, because it hasn’t been a smooth week. And even though I don’t feel totally trusting of her, I know I’m here to open myself up.
“It’s been … all right. On Monday, I got home and a cabinet or two were open. I couldn’t remember if I’d left them open or not, so I had to sit down and take deep breathes for twenty minutes until I got the anxiety under control. And I talked myself through it, then remembered I had gotten an allergy pill and that’s why I left the cabinets open.”
She nods again. “Anything else?”
I was trying to keep this one under wraps, but it will probably feel better to talk about it. “I was in the grocery store, in the condiments aisle on Thursday, when a toddler was walking around with his mother. My back was turned, he must have knocked some pickle jars off the shelves … the noise was so loud, I shrieked and ran. I had to leave the store and sat in my car for forty minutes before I could drive home.”
“Did you practice the breathing and soothing words we talked about?”
“I did.”
“Well, I think we’ve made some good progress today. But our time is up.”
What? This is what I meant. I didn’t feel any better. Didn’t feel like I had worked through anything. The doctor starts to get up, and I know that I won’t be coming back. I’m going to face this on my own, get better so that I can fully be with Tucker once he gets out.
As I walk out of her office, disappointed in her but hopeful in myself, my phone starts to buzz in my coat pocket.
SCI Mahoney flashes across the screen.
“Hello? Tucker?”
An unfamiliar voice speaks from the other end. “Hello, Mrs. Lynch. This is Dr. Varger, I’m with the prison’s medical staff. Your husband had an incident today—“
“And incident!?” My blood level spikes as I cut him off. “What kind of incident?”
“Ma’am, unfortunately I can’t disclose the details, but I wanted to let you know of your husband’s condition. He
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