First Therapy Session

Dear Mom and Dad,

I love you. No matter what it looks like, no matter what else you think of me, I love you and I always will.

School is going well. My roommate's name is Susie, and despite her appearance and general attitude, she's actually really kind. We get along pretty well, I think. There was a bit of a rough patch while I was settling in, but we've sorted it out. Even though she's seventeen, I think we could be friends.

The school has been very good to me. I like the extra attention from the teachers, and the other students have been friendly and respectful when I've talked to them. Menus are even adapted to include familiar foods too. Even in a place full of strangers, I feel safe and seen here.

This brings me to the hard part of this letter. I want you to understand that you mean a lot to me, but I don't want to continue talking to you right now. Here, I can be myself. There's even a word for it. It's called nonbinary.

I'm not a girl, and I'm not a boy. Those are categories that can describe people, but I don't fit in to either. That's why it's called nonbinary. I tried to tell you before, but you told me I was wrong. Just because I'm twelve, it doesn't mean that I can't think for myself. I don't know everything about everything, but I can at least tell you whether I am a boy, a girl, or neither. Knowing the difference is something we learn as toddlers. By now, I'm sure. If I wasn't sure, I'd let you keep telling me that I'm a girl and go along with it, but I can't do that anymore.

If you can't accept me for who I am, then I don't want to hear from you. Any letters addressed to my old name will be ignored. I'll receive them, then recycle them without reading them. If you call me your daughter, no matter how well meaning you are, I will not reply. Until you can call me by my name, and try to use neutral pronouns and titles, you won't hear back from me.

This isn't brainwashing or whatever other theory you will come up with. I am the one who told Miss West my name and pronouns when she was still using the name you told her. It was my idea, and she was the first person here to accept it unconditionally. She even offered to change my room assignment if having a female roommate was uncomfortable.

I can't begin to describe how it felt to not have to argue that I know who I am.

You love me, and I know that, but you don't see me as me. You see me as who you want me to be, and I'm never going to fit that image. You sent along girly clothes that you know I don't like. I intend to trade them for more suitable ones. There's a clothing specialist here who alters clothes and manages exchanges between students, so your money won't be wasted.

You also called me a shell of a child after I returned from the Underground. You're wrong. The shell was the kid who ran away. When I ran away, I got to be me. There were no expectations about who I was or who I was supposed to be. When I came back, that's when I realized how tired I was of pretending to be someone I'm not. If you can't accept that, then that's on you.

I love you, I really do, but I can't talk to you when you insist that I need to keep pretending to be someone that I never was.

Don't withdraw me from school because you're angry. I like it here and will do my best to make sure that Eleanor is allowed to let me stay. Please try to understand. Look at me and see me. Hear me when I talk to you. Read these words and know me.

I'm not afraid to stand up for myself anymore. If something bothers me, I need to say it. That's something I learned from Susie. If you don't respect me for who I am, I don't want to listen to what you have to say.

I want to have a good relationship with you. I want you to be my parents and I want to see you smile when you see me. I want to talk to you about the good times I have with the friends I make here. I want to listen to you tell me about your days and complain about the people down the street with the dogs who bark all night. I want to be able to laugh with you and celebrate birthdays and Christmas and holidays together without being afraid of hearing words that hurt.

I really want to see you again. I want you to be proud of who I am and what I've accomplished, even if you don't like how I got there.

Right now, we need time apart, and that's okay. No matter what, I love you and I know that you love me. I just want you to know that and see me.

With love, your child

-Frisk

Reading their parents' letter hurt. It confirmed everything they knew. Their parents hadn't changed at all. After everything that happened, they held on to a small amount of hope that maybe their parents would have to accept that they weren't the little girl they were expected to be. Even though their mother had listened to them briefly when they were looking at the schools. Even though their father seemed to be understanding when they were crying on him.

In the end, they refused to see that their kid had changed. Rather, they saw but they didn't like it.

Frisk knew they were different, and their parents saw the change. It was too bad that the two of them interpreted it wrong.

They desperately wanted to believe that writing this letter would change help their parents to understand what they needed to do. It seemed pretty clear, in their opinion. The two of them could use google to learn about being nonbinary if they wanted to. Frisk didn't know exactly what the internet had to say about it, having never looked for themselves, but their parents were smart people. They knew how to sort through information and find what was true and what was propaganda.

At least, they hoped so. There was every chance that the internet was so full of conspiracies that aligned with their current beliefs that they'd only look at that. Their mom for sure would try that. Their dad seemed more reasonable, at least. He's a yellow soul. They thought justice would be a good fit for him, even if soul colours don't necessarily mean anything. Any yellow soul should try to seek the truth, even if it's hard at first. That's what they hoped.

Their mom was another issue entirely. She always had to be right, no matter what. But for once, she had no ground to stand on. Instead of trying to learn, Frisk was afraid that she'd double down. All they could do was write a letter and hope for the best.

When Susie got back from her axe practice, Frisk decided to ask her opinion.

"I'm writing my parents a letter. It's everything that I tried to tell them before, and I don't know if they're going to listen this time. Can you read it and tell me if it's clear? I just want to know if I made it clear that I don't hate them or anything but that I just want them to see me as me, you know? So can you just…" Frisk waved their arms in circles, trying to get their meaning across, "Just tell me if it makes sense, please?"

"You sure man? I don't know anything about your parents. And are you sure you want me reading something personal?" Susie asked.

Frisk nodded, "I just need someone to tell me than it makes sense."

"Fine, fine. Hand it over." Susie held out her hand.

Frisk handed it over and waited with anticipation while Susie read through it. Their heart was pounding.

Susie started chuckling and handed it back. "I'd say you've got nothing to worry about. If they wanna stick their heads in the sand, that's on them. This letter is kinda savage, but it's definitely clear." Susie clapped them on the back, "And yeah, you can call us friends. Anyone who can say something like that earns my respect. Tell them like it is, and don't take no for an answer."

"Th-thanks." Frisk mumbled. It was a relief to hear from someone else. They hadn't totally messed up with what they wrote. But savage? Was it too much? Susie just said that she respects it, but how can they be sure it's the right thing?

"What's that look mean?"

Frisk shrugged, "Maybe I worded it too strong. I want them to see me as me, but what if this is too much?"

Susie shrugged back, "Like you said in the letter, that's a them problem. You are you, and no one can change that."

Frisk took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If it was good enough, they could give it to Eleanor on Monday. It wouldn't hurt to take a couple of nights to sleep on it.

"You could also ask Lundy to look it over for you." Susie suggested, "You've got a session with her soon, right? You've been here for almost a week, so she probably gave you a time this weekend."

"Yeah, tomorrow morning." Frisk nodded, "Saturday morning, 10:30 am. I don't know what we're gonna talk about for an hour though."

"Anything you want. She's there to listen and offer advice. She can help you work through stuff if you want, but it's up to you."

"Okay. I think I can handle that." Frisk took a few more deep breaths. For some reason, they felt nervous about the session. They had no idea what to expect from therapy or counselling or whatever this was, other than talking about themselves. Other than the interview with Eleanor, they couldn't think of the last time someone had let them talk about themselves for more than a few minutes at a time. The arguments with their parents obviously didn't count.

"You might also wanna talk to her about that spacing out thing you do. Or when your words get stuck. I was… I mean, it's something that might freak people out you know? Make them worried if they don't know how to help you and stuff so like…yeah." Susie was taking great care in positioning her axe just right at the end of her bed.

That was fine. Frisk didn't feel comfortable with eye contact either. Not when they were talking about something like this. They swallowed the lump in their throat and agreed. "Yeah, maybe."

"Cool." Susie paused for a moment, "Talking about stuff, it can be kinda rough. How about I take you to Kade's room after? You can trade in those frilly things for something more your style."

"That sounds good. Thanks." Frisk turned to the folded clothes beside their bed. They were still folded from when they were thinking about what to do back on Monday. Re-folding them and straightening them out couldn't hurt. It would keep them busy so they didn't have to think about anything else. It was better than an awkward silence, in any case.

One thing was clear after this. Susie was definitely going to get a letter. If she didn't find her Dark Fountain before they found their hole, then they'd write one for her. They considered writing one for her anyways, to give to her (and not open) unless she finds her Dark Fountain first. There was probably still time before either of them found their way back, so they could afford to think about what they wanted to do for a bit longer.

Frisk kept themselves busy for a bit longer before preparing for bed. Tomorrow would mark the last day of their first week at the school and would be their first therapy appointment. The butterflies in their stomach never fully settled, but they were eventually able to get some sleep.

Susie showed them to Lundy's office the next morning, telling them that they could meet up at lunch, after their appointment. Frisk nodded and focused on the feeling of the paper in their hands. They didn't know what to expect from therapy, so they tried to pay attention to anything that could distract them.

Standing in front of the door, it was hard to find anything that would take their attention away from the inevitable. They took a few deep breaths before knocking on the door. Maybe they should just stick to what Susie suggested. Talk about the letter, then maybe bring up the spacing out thing.

"Come in Frisk!" Lundy called.

Frisk wasn't sure what they expected her office to look like, but it was just a plain room with a few chairs, a couch, a drawing board, and a desk. They closed the door behind them and carefully walked towards Lundy.

Her arms were kept by her sides and her hands stayed low. There was nothing in her appearance or stance that gave off any sort of threat, but they were still uneasy. They knew that they were expected to talk, but would that accomplish anything? Nothing they had ever said before had mattered. No one had listened to them except Susie, but Susie isn't an adult. Adults only listen to what they want to hear, and since Lundy is an adult, that means that she could just talk over them and not listen like she was supposed to. But that wouldn't be different from before, so why did they feel so scared? Their feelings didn't matter. They just had to push them down and get through it. Shove down the feelings and focus on the end. After this, they'll get lunch with Susie, then give their clothes to Kade. This appointment is going to be shorter than one period of class. They could do it.

"Welcome. Feel free to sit down wherever you like. If you prefer standing or pacing, that's fine too. In this space, anything you say or do is kept strictly confidential unless you are an immediate risk to yourself or others. At that point, I would have to inform Eleanor so that we can work out some treatment and accommodations. Do you understand?" Lundy asked. She kept still and appeared relaxed. Frisk could tell that she was watching them closely.

They nodded. It felt like their words were getting stuck again. They weren't spacing out this time, but they felt like if they tried to speak, nothing would come out.

"Great! This is our first session, so we can take it slow. If there's anything you would like to talk about, we can. If not, I'd like to spend some time getting to know you and your experiences in the Underground. I know the basics about the Underground, but your experiences there are uniquely yours, so no assumptions can be made about what happened." Lundy explained. She chose a small wooden chair for herself and got comfortable. There was a clipboard and pen just off to the side, but she hadn't picked them up yet.

Frisk wondered if she was supposed to be taking notes about them. Weren't therapists supposed to record their every word and movement to dissect and break down into logical parts later? Or was that just a TV thing?

As the silence continued, Frisk squashed down their fear and walked over to where Lundy was sitting. They handed her the letter, pulled the cushion off of a thick, padded chair, and flopped onto it face first.

"Did you want me to read this?" Lundy asked.

Frisk nodded into the cushion.

"Is it a list of things you want to discuss with me? Or is it something you want my opinion on?"

Frisk held up two fingers. They kept their face in the pillow. If they couldn't see anything, it was easier to pretend that they weren't being judged. The rough texture of the cushion on their face also helped keep them from spacing out.

"Alright then. Let's see." Lundy took a few minutes to read the letter, "This is for your parents then? What is it you would like my opinion on?"

This question couldn't be answered with simple gestures. Frisk slowly pushed themselves onto their knees and squinted to find the drawing board. They rolled over a couple of times and sat themselves in front of it. Picking up a dry erase marker, they wrote a response.

Is it clear enough? Are the words too strong? Will they believe me? Did I do it right? Are they going to hate me? Is this the right thing to do? What if they-

"One question at a time!" Lundy interrupted, "You seem to have a lot of feelings regarding this. I can deduce from the contents that your parents don't respect your nonbinary identity. What you have written is perfectly clear in expressing your thoughts, what you want from them, and what reactions their actions will prompt going forward. I see no problems there."

Lundy paused for a moment and considered the other questions on the board. "I think that your words are mature beyond your age. I do not think that they are too strong, and I think that your parents' belief is not relevant in the immediate future. You laid out the rules for them, and the consequences will teach them if they decide not to believe you. Asking for space from them is a good thing. It will allow you and them to sort out your thoughts and feelings without affecting each other. Once you and your parents are ready and able, you will be able to talk to them again. You did a good job."

Frisk took a shaky breath and managed a small smile. It was good to hear from an adult that they did something good. Even if Lundy looked like a little kid, she gave off the impression of an adult in all of her actions.

Thanks.

"Is there anything else you'd like to talk about? Or would you like to discuss your time in the Underground?" She asked.

Susie said I should talk to you about how I space out sometimes.

"Is that something you would like to talk about?"

Frisk shrugged. They knew they probably should talk about it, but it felt uncomfortable. It was worse when they knew that their words weren't working either.

Lundy relaxed her posture, "If you don't want to talk about it, then we don't have to. These sessions are for you. Sometimes, I might ask you questions that make you uncomfortable or force you to think about something you'd rather ignore. You are always free to not answer or change the subject. Just keep in mind that there are no judgements here."

Frisk considered her words for a moment. Spacing out normally wasn't a bad thing, but when they were super spaced out with Susie, that was taking it too far. If Lundy could help them figure out how to not go too far, then they should probably try.

They took a deep breath to focus their thoughts and began writing.

Sometimes when I feel too many things, I space out. Most of the time, it's good. I push the feelings away for a while until I'm alone and can sort them out. But earlier, it was really strong and sudden so when I tried to push my feelings away, I pushed everything away by accident. Words stopped making sense and the things I saw didn't have names anymore. I could feel some things, but not everything. Susie dropped some ice down my shirt to make me stop.

Lundy hummed to herself and started swinging her legs. "Sounds like it could be dissociation. Do you push your feelings away often?"

Frisk shrugged again.

Depends where I am. Underground, not much. Here, not much. Before I ran away, I was spaced out for three weeks. I stayed spaced out until I fell into the hole.

"That's a long time," Lundy commented, "Is it related to how much you speak?"

I don't know.

"Are you spaced out right now?"

No.

"Are you pushing down your feelings right now?"

Yes. Not as much as normal though.

Lundy hummed again, "Do you prefer to communicate through writing? Or are you having a hard time talking right now?"

My words are stuck.

"I see. Does this happen a lot?"

Frisk shook their head.

"Does it happen during certain situations? Or does it seem random?"

Random.

"Do your words get stuck when you push your feelings down, when you don't push them down, or both?"

Frisk had to think about it for a moment.

Only when I push them down, I think. I don't try to talk when I'm not pushing them down so I don't know.

"Interesting. If you can, try to pay attention to whether you're pushing down your feelings or not if it happens again. If you aren't pushing them down, try to think about what you're feeling when your words get stuck. I'd like to ask about that next time, okay?"

It was a strange question, but it seemed easy enough. Frisk nodded.

"Good. Now, normally I'd ask you to tell me about the Underground, but I think that can wait for a bit. There's too much to talk about and writing is slow. Instead, we can try to see if we can figure out how to get your words unstuck." Lundy said. She stopped swinging her legs, "Is there something you normally do to make them come back? Or do you just wait it out?"

Wait.

"Okay then. Now we get to have some fun." Lundy smiled and walked over to her desk. She took a small box out of a drawer.

She brought the box over and let Frisk examine the contents. There were brightly coloured markers, a blindfold made of soft materials, a few colourful feathers, some pipecleaners, three colourful balls, and a tiny jokebook.

"Any of these suit your fancy?" Lundy asked.

What are they for?

"You'll find out. Leave the blindfold, but pick anything else. It doesn't matter what."

Frisk picked up one of the balls. It was bright orange.

"Do you know how to juggle?"

Frisk shook their head.

"That's okay. Can you bounce the ball and catch it with just one hand?"

Frisk did just that.

"Very good. Can you do it with two balls?"

Frisk picked up the purple ball and bounced it at the same time as the orange one. It wasn't too hard.

"Okay. Do you think you can add a third one?"

Frisk picked up the green ball and tried bouncing the three of them by passing them between their hands, but it was really hard. It was a bit frustrating.

"No worries. If that's really hard, you can switch back to two balls."

That's what they did. The green ball went back in the box. They started bouncing the orange and purple balls again. After ten bounces or so, they got into a rhythm. It was a bit entrancing to focus on something as simple as bouncing a couple of balls.

"While you do that, I'm going to try distracting you." Lundy said. She picked up the jokebook and flipped wo a random page. "What did the fish say when it swam into a wall? Dam."

Frisk snorted and smiled. They kept bouncing the balls though. Dumb jokes wouldn't break their focus.

"I sold my vacuum the other day. All it was doing was collecting dust. Did you hear about the guy who invented the knock-knock joke? He won the no-bell prize. Two muffins were sitting in an oven. One said 'wow, it's getting hot in here.' The other shouted, "wow! A talking muffin!'"

Frisk started giggling a bit. They were still bouncing the balls. They were getting close to a 100-bounce streak. Nothing could stop them.

"I like elephants. Everything else is irrelephant. Two guys walk into a bar. The third guy ducks. What do you call a fake noodle? An impasta."

Frisk let out a proper laugh at those ones. Bad puns were a bit of a weak point for them most of the time. They were still focused on the balls though. They weren't going to drop them.

"Knock knock." Lundy asked.

"Who's there?" Frisk replied.

"Interrupting cow."

"Interrupting cow wh-"

"MOO."

Frisk startled and laughed. They finally missed a ball.

Lundy snapped the book closed. "How many times did you bounce the balls? I'm sure you got to fifty, at least."

"I think it was over a hundred, actually."

"Great! We can set one hundred as a starting point and try to do more next time." Lundy said, "So tell me about the Underground. Not everything. We don't have time for that today. Just tell me about someone you spent a lot of time with. A friend, guardian, whoever you want."

There was only one good option. Frisk spent the rest of the time talking about their time with Toriel. They talked about how kind she was, and how nice it was to live with her. She made them feel welcome and safe in a place that was so new and unfamiliar, and grew to love her as a parental figure. She was amazing and meant a lot to them while they stayed with her.

Talking about Toriel naturally branched into discussing her house and the Ruins. They spoke about the monsters who lived there, the "traps" to supposedly keep humans away, and the nonsense of all the things that shouldn't make sense but worked because of magic. Bullets, souls, ghosts, spider pastries, and stars hidden in lead piles. It really was a magical place.

Frisk decided to not talk about how they were forced to leave. It was nice to just remember the good things about their time with in the Ruins and share it with someone else.

Eventually, Lundy had to end the session. "Our time's up for today. It was lovely to hear about your goat mom today. I hope to hear more about your Underground adventures in our next session. I can schedule you one month from now, but if you'd prefer sooner, we can do that too."

"One month is fine."

"Alright then. Four weeks from now, Saturday, same time?" She suggested.

"Sure." Frisk shrugged.

"Okay. Until our next session, I'd like two things from you. First, try to think about what happens when your words get stuck. Just as we talked about earlier. We can talk more about strategies to unstick them when we figure out if there's a pattern behind it." Lundy explained, "Secondly, I'd like you to speak in group at least once before the next session. You can say anything, but I'd like you to try to talk a little bit about the Underground with the other students. Just one or two minutes is enough. Do you think you can try to do that?"

Frisk closed their eyes and considered it for a moment. They talked to Lundy about the Ruins for half the session. One or two minutes shouldn't be a big deal. They nodded their assent.

"Glad to hear it. I'll let you head off to lunch now. I'll see you at group on Monday."

Frisk took their letter back and let themselves out of her office. They started making their way to the dining area for lunch. It was a bit early, but they could wait the twenty minutes or whatever for lunch to start.

It was only on their walk over that they took the time to reflect on the therapy session. At some point, their voice came back and it didn't really register until now. They were playing with the balls and at some point they could talk again. Weird.

Maybe this therapy thing wouldn't be so bad after all.