"Her again?" - you when this hits your inbox, probably. Kidding. I hope. This one wrote itself and on the off chance that someone is dying for an update after one day, here you go.

Chapter 37

Ana

From the outside, it probably looks like my life is going great right now. Both of my singles debuted at #1, I dethroned myself when the second came out and I'm on track to do that again with the third, my album is being described as highly anticipated, and I just made my SNL debut.

But it doesn't feel like that. It feels like I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, and I'm trying to fill some hole in me by throwing myself into all of this. At this point, I'm exhausted by it, and I'm not even sure if I'm enjoying it. The creative process of making music was wonderful, but all the showmanship, the cameras, the outside chatter? I'm starting to feel overexposed. I miss my kids. I miss… simplicity.

I can't deny that music has helped me. I wanted to try something new, and I did. In its own way, it was beautiful. But it's starting to come with all sorts of new pressures. Back then, it kept me afloat… but is this really what I want my life to be from now on? When is it enough?

Yes, I miss my old life. Time to admit it. I think about it far more than I would like to. I think about him, us, far more than I probably should. I was shocked to get his call on Saturday night after the show, and even more shocked at how easy it was to talk to him about everything. He indeed brought the kids to meet me at the airport yesterday, drove all of us home, and then stayed and entertained them at the house while I got myself settled. It was his agreed upon day with them and he could have done anything he wanted, but I think that maybe he knew I missed them. In the end, he stayed until their bedtime, and we spent most of the day watching movies while my jetlagged self napped on and off on the couch. I don't know if it can count as real family time, since I was only partially conscious, but it was certainly a treat.

Maybe I made a snap judgement in not even asking him to come to New York. I know I would have been overwhelmed having the kids there with me by myself and trying to rehearse, but maybe being together, all four of us again, wouldn't have been so bad?

But deep down, I know what's stopping me. I don't want to get too comfortable. I don't want to get hurt again. I don't know if I'd survive having my old life returned to me, only to have it snatched away again. I just don't trust Christian. It's obvious that he's trying, and so am I, but I can't let him in… at least not yet.

Jesus. Just stop thinking for one second please, we're dying in here. Unfortunately, my journey into self-analysis is far from over. I'm already emotionally exhausted, and I'm not sure what Dr. Hughes is going to get today in our individual session. On a Monday morning, no less.

I tap my foot anxiously in the waiting room. He doesn't keep me waiting long. I choose the same spot I sat in the last time, my eyes traveling over to Christian's old spot of their own accord.

"Good morning, Ana. I hear you had a quite a weekend." I tilt my head in confusion. "Ah. I apologize, my wife is a bit of a fan of yours. I caught your performance on Saturday night. You're very talented. It must have been quite an honor to be booked on a show like that so quickly?"

I nod halfheartedly. "Yes, an honor." And I wish I cared about it.

"And yet your mind seems elsewhere?" I shrug. "Well, let's begin with where we left off last time. Christian's absence. Can you tell me what you made of it at the time? Just take your time, and do your best," he says patiently.

I sigh and settle further into the couch. "At the time… I started off thinking he was just distracted, and he'd snap out of it, for about the first month or so. Then the visits and phone calls became fewer and further between. I couldn't even get a text back. I tried asking what was going on, when he'd be home, I tried telling him the kids missed him, I missed him, things couldn't go on like this, but… he always find a way to dodge giving me a straight answer or just blow me off. It was to the point that I was scared if something happened to me or the kids, he might not even hear about it. He might not want to hear about it. His avoidance seemed so… targeted, so purposeful."

"And how long did this go on?"

"About six months in, we had a phone call that just felt so… final. I had badgered him enough. I stopped trying to communicate after that. It hurt too much."

"And how did you explain this to yourself? Did you have theories for why he would be so distant?"

"I just thought that he wanted to be away. It almost… made sense. From the beginning, I had doubts that I'd be enough for him. I was completely confused and outraged for the way he was treating the kids, but for me… it just seemed bound to happen. After a point, I couldn't beg him to care about me anymore."

"That's a very saddening statement, Ana. What makes you believe you'd be so difficult to love?"

I can feel myself start to squirm in my seat. I really don't want to go here again. "I thought you had a file on me."

"Yes, Dr. Hall wrote up a very thorough outline of your work together over the few weeks you've been seeing one another, but I want to hear your thoughts from you rather than secondhand through a piece of paper."

Goddamn. That makes sense. "I'm not… special. I mean, there's nothing particularly remarkable about me."

His brow furrows. "I know that Christian mentioned last time that his main purpose for attending this therapy is to explain that time away to you. Has he told you anything about his motivations so far?"

"Not much. Just that he felt like he didn't deserve me. I've never asked for more details... we just recently started being somewhat friendly again."

"So, what do you make of it now?"

I shake my head. "I really don't know," I admit. "His self-esteem has always had issues... but still, it wouldn't surprise me if part of it was that he didn't want me." The nightmares about that are certainly still a thing.

He nods and takes a few moments to update his notes. "Do you mind if I share a thought?" I shake my head. "In front of me, I see an accomplished, interesting young woman, and yet your self-talk seems very self-deprecating. Dr. Hall noted that you've briefly discussed your parents, but that you are generally avoidant when they come up. Since this is our only solo session, I won't mince words. May I ask you about your relationship with them?"

I'm beginning to feel like what I imagine an animal in a zoo or a cell under a microscope feels like. Just cut me open and look inside, why don't you? I recount the usual facts. "My father died when I was a baby. I never knew him. I was raised by my stepfather, he's wonderful. My mother… isn't great at monogamy. I was naïve to it at the time, but she wasn't exactly faithful to him. She's on her fourth husband, but I get the feeling that she's always viewed marriages as… seasonal."

"Which husband was the one you consider your father?"

"Her second. Ray."

"What happened when she married her third?"

I suppress a shudder at the memory of that time. "We moved with him for a while, but I… didn't feel comfortable with him, so I opted to go live with my stepfather again. That union was very short-lived, and she's never mentioned it again."

"I'm interested to hear more about your discomfort from the third husband."

My stomach rolls. "Why that?"

"Our self-talk affects how we carry ourselves in relationships. I'm trying to understand where yours came from. You are welcome to tell me to mind my own beeswax and decline to answer any of my questions. I'm just trying to understand you."

He speaks very sincerely, and even with a hint of humor. Something about him puts me at ease. His purpose here is to help you. Maybe you can't avoid everything forever. It'll be over sooner if you just give him what he wants. I sigh and stare into my lap. "I was a teenager. High school is already hard enough, but… nothing was ever enough for him. My clothes weren't right, I was weird, I read too much, I ate too much… the body comments were the worst. They were almost constant. I had already started to feel self-conscious before we moved in with him because I was a young girl in the 2000s. Size zero was all the rage, and I wasn't that. Even after I left, his voice was in my head for so long. It took me years before I could eat normal meals again. Honestly, not until I was pregnant, and then it was only for the baby."

"So, he constantly nagged you, no matter what you did, and the effects of that stayed with you for a long time, including the disordered eating. Did you speak to your mother about it?"

I suppress a snort. "She was there for a lot of them. It wasn't a secret. She either ignored it, or she joined in."

He nods, his expression sympathetic. "You described Ray as 'wonderful.' How is your relationship with your mother now?"

"It's… difficult. I don't understand her. Since having my own, I just… I can't comprehend the way she talks to me, and I see the way she treated me when I was younger in a different light. I think about my kids before anyone else, their well-being is a part of every decision I make. She thinks about her before anyone else. My well-being was an afterthought. I'm not saying that mothers need to only be mothers and have no other priorities. I do other things besides being a mother. But… was I even on the list?"

He nods slowly. "Ana… I think I'm beginning to understand why you feel difficult to love. Why you stepped away willingly when Christian became distant. Something that you said stuck out to me. You said you didn't want to beg him to care about you. I wonder… is that because you've already spent so much of your life doing that?"

I feel as though the hole I've been trying to fill these past few months tears open a little more at his words. He pushes the tissue box on the table between us a little closer to me, and it's then that I realize that tears are flowing freely. I pick one up and quickly cover my face. "Please don't feel the need to hide, Ana. Mother wounds can affect us deeply, but your vulnerability in trying to process and understand it today is a strength. Carrying it alone can be backbreaking. Thank you for your honesty and trust in me."

I sniffle. I feel anything but strong in this moment. "It feels so stupid. She wasn't abusive, she wasn't neglectful. I was fed, I had what I needed. What right do I have to feel this way?"

"She may have met your physical needs, but it's possible that there were huge gaps in your emotional ones. Your self-talk here is reminiscent to how Dr. Hall described your experience with postpartum depression… feeling no right to feel the way you did."

I freeze at his words. God, let's just spill all my guts today. "We don't know that it was… that." I can't even say the words. They feel too real.

"No, we can't make a firm diagnosis in hindsight. But between the two of us, we can make a fairly strong inference. That's another very heavy thing to carry around, Ana. Did you have any support?"

"You mean did I tell anyone that I couldn't stop crying and could barely keep food down even though I had a brand new baby who I adored and I wanted for nothing in life? No. There are people with real problems. I wasn't one of them, and I got through it."

"I see. So, you feel that none of your husband's problems are real then?"

Huh? "What do you mean? How can you say that? You know his history. He's been through so much." Suddenly, I'm not so sure I like this guy.

"Sure, but he's a billionaire. He wants for nothing. Those aren't real problems." I blink in shock at his blunt words, unsure how to respond. "The point I'm trying to illustrate, Ana, is that you seem to have a tremendous double standard for yourself. You seem to be under the impression that just because your physical needs are met, your emotional ones don't matter or somehow don't count. I doubt you'd feel that way about someone else's mental well-being. Why are you martyring yours?" His words are almost infuriatingly logical, and I feel my own narrative start to unravel. "Depression does not discriminate, Ana, and it is not a choice. Your feelings are as valid as anyone else's."

I take in a trembling breath. This session has gone so deep, I feel like I'm underwater. "You have to understand… I couldn't tell anyone. I didn't want to be a burden, and I was ashamed that I felt that way. And Christian, he wouldn't want to know. He would have blamed himself, even though he did nothing wrong."

"So, you didn't tell him to protect him?" I nod. "Nothing to do with the fact that when you told him you were going to become parents, he called you stupid and left."

I sigh heavily. "You're starting to sound like Catherine."

He smiles. "So, I'm not the only one who thinks that your behavior isn't purely altruistic? Maybe self-protective as well? No one wants to be blamed for their feelings, especially those who have felt that way many times before. It would be completely normal and even expected for you to go to lengths to avoid that feeling again."

"I thought this was couples therapy," I mutter mostly to myself. This gets a laugh out of him.

"Believe it or not, Ana, I think everything we've discussed today has had an impact on your relationship, and that's what I'm here to examine. Our time is just about up for today, but I encourage you to continue these discussions with Catherine. Your tendency towards self-isolation will affect your relationships, but as you grow stronger and more sure of yourself, you'll be able to advocate for yourself, be confident in your truth, and have healthier, more honest and open relationships. So, you see, in the end, it all comes back around."

"Are you going to share all this with Catherine?"

"I would like to, if you will allow me. Is that okay?"

I nod. It would be nice not to have to start completely from scratch, and I admit, even I can see that this conversation shouldn't end here. I've bottled all this up for years and I don't want it to keep holding me back. If I had a friend that talked to me like I talk to me, I'd kick her to the curb.

"Wonderful. I'll see you later this week with Christian?"

I nod again and he stands up to see me out. We shake hands at the door. "Have a nice rest of your day, Ana. I wish you all the best in your individual therapy," he adds sincerely.

I find Sawyer in the waiting room, where I instructed him to sit to appease Christian's worries about me being quote, unquote unattended. The whole ride home, I try to work through the chaos in my brain muddling through everything we just discussed. All this time, I've believed that Christian's absence must have somehow been my fault, but that it must have been some deficiency in me, who I am as a person, doomed to never hold his attention forever. For the first time, I start to question that voice that's told me all these years that I'm inherently not enough. Maybe I wasn't born with that voice. Maybe it was put there.

Maybe some of the cracks in our relationship were related to my… actions. My lack of participation, communication, the things I withheld. You should be able to tell your husband that you're depressed, shouldn't you? It's not that I felt like I couldn't tell him… but admittedly, I did fear his reaction. I was afraid he would blame himself, but… yes, I was also afraid he would blame me. I felt so wrong and so stupid for how I felt. I couldn't bear hearing that from him, too. Still, he'd come so far since that first reaction to the news of Teddy's impending arrival. Was it wrong of me to take away his chance for redemption?

Wrong or not, it was self-protective, to an extent.

As we pull through the gates to the house, my thoughts are interrupted as my phone starts to ring. It's my agent, Beth. Oh, hell. "Hi, Beth."

"Hello, my starlet!" she sings. "I have tour venues hounding me for you. Everyone is calling and wants to know if you're planning one. I've already got enough interest for a North American and a European! So, let's talk about dates."

She continues to talk shop, and I immediately feel my mood sink. The question that was nagging at me this morning returns to the forefront. Does there always have to be more? When is it enough?

I close the car door, give Sawyer a wave, and walk into the house, heading straight for the couch and flopping down on it. I know that this isn't how you're supposed to feel when your dreams are coming true. And I realize that that's what this is for someone… but it doesn't feel like me.

"Beth," I cut in. "I know this is your job, and I have to say, you're tremendous at it. But… I have no interest in doing a tour. Especially a long, international tour. Maybe I've misled you, and if I did, I'm sorry. But I have a family, I have two little kids, and I want to be present in their lives, not dragging them all around the world and always thinking about the next gig. I never expected my music to blow up like this. I just wanted to try something new, something that helped me through a dark chapter. I'm not… I'm not trying to be the biggest or the best. All this time, I've just been following my heart. And my heart is telling me that this is enough."

I think I make out a sniffle on the other end of the line. "Oh, Ana… that's beautiful!" she sobs dramatically. I bite my lip to keep from laughing. I wonder if her theatrics help her with the bookings? "Of course, I understand. I'm here to do what you want, sweetie. If you change your mind and you want to do a show here and there, you let me know, okay?"

"You'll be the first," I promise.

We say goodbye and I lean back, struck by how much lighter I feel compared to this morning. There's so much work to do going forward, but I have to acknowledge, it feels good right now to have made a start.

A/N: I think/hope this will alleviate some concerns about this being all about Ana or all about Ana's music. I really don't see her character longing for fame.

Phew! Ana finally got some things off her chest. Dr. Hughes had a hunch and he dug for it. From their individuals, they've both realized some things: Christian, that he's not entirely to blame for everything (even if he is mostly, since he's the one who left) and that Ana made mistakes too, and Ana, that the way she isolates herself didn't exactly help her relationship with Christian, and she needs to further process why she feels the need to do that. Any surprises? Theories? Thoughts?

Thanks for reading. Might take a breather now. My fingers are tired. xo