Chapter three: therapy
Dear Dumb book that has grown on me
Sadly I am starting to see the therapudic feelings that I get as I write, I think the best part is due to my goth nature I learned Latin so all your words are in Latin. When my therapest asked to see if I wrote anything I told him I had, And like I though he asked to see my book. To his horror he couldnt understand why I wrote in Latin, So I told him.
"I had understood that you had wanted to see what I wrote. You figured that I would tell a peice of paper what I havent told you." I said with my hands crossed against my chest. This was the most I have sponken in the past year I have gone to therapy, maybe eventually I will get around to why I got locked up and put in therapy, but that's a long story for a rainy day.
"I had assumed it would allow more conversation than we have been having. Your parents are quite upset that they spend so much money on therapy and we do nothing but stair at each other, frankly I had spent twelve yearsin college and I have used every note of how to make someone open-up. I dont want to give up on you. But I am running out of options." ran his neatly trimed fingers through his slick hair, It reminded me of Danny'sand how he acted when he couldnt find an answer, and the connection made me have to shake my head to loss the image.
"Fine, if it is a matter of your job I will talk. But dont believe it's a friendship here. Just pitty." I said in a huff. I may not like but I do not wish him to loss his job. I am an activist after all.
"Thank god." He said in an exasperated breath.
"So what do you need me to say?" I said as I looked at my nails, the polish was chipping at the tips I shouldthink of wearing another color.
"How about we get to know each other so we can at least pretend to be friends?" He said with a strained smile.
"I have an idea how about we tell our impressions of one another. I dont like talking about myself, I am not superfiscial." I said knowing that he was about to question my motives as to why, I dont want those notes to talkabout me. It freaks me out that I can be summed up so simply on a scrap of paper and given a pill to fix me because I am human and have flaws.
"I'm not your friend and I know that when you get home you talk about your most dificult case even though there was a paper called patient-confiendiality. Which read in small print you can see that if you dont mention my fist and last name together you will never violate it. I have a brain on my shoulders and I know that every word I am saying is being recorded by that plastic duck." I rolled my eyes.
"If your so smart why didnt you finish that early graduation program that would allow you leave highschool and embark on college a year and a half early." He asked patiens worn to the bone.
"You know damn well. I was going out with the oh-so-wonderful-savior-of-the-world Danny Phantom. That everyone knows is Danny Fenton. It was in your case file about my history my parents made for you. You know all about mefrom reading my case study from the hospital and my crazy moment while I was in battle, how I still despitemany profesttionals oppions help save this damn town that I hate cause my family lives here and as much as theyare never really there and how much pedle out money for me to talk to other people instead of them I do actuallylove them although their attemps that work. And my impression is some brown noser that just wants me to say what you want to hear, cry and say how rotten I have been. Well I know how rotten I've been and I'm not sorry. Is that enough talking for you mr. hidden recorder?" I asked the duck as I chucked it across the room and it slid under his desk as I stormed out.
I do feel bad for stoming out of the room like that and as I sped through town to that damn hill that I go to when I am upset, I thought about my actions being so rash and harsh. I dont want people to think of me as some kind of bitch but I dont want to be so easily summed up. And I know that this tempertantrum of mine that had the maturiety level of a five year old made me ashamed and I know I will have a thousand answers asked. Here I sit under the fall turned true with yellow and orange leaves that have littered the ground. I shall place you to the side my annoying book I felt so impulsed to write in. I hear someone coming.
not your friend either
Sam