To Perceive an Image

Three: Images of My Dream in A Strange Land

Maryanland, September 06, 2040 12:40 AM

My legs are rocks. I don't remember the difference between igneous, metamorphic, or sedimentary rocks. It doesn't matter because I am a combination of all three.

My feet take slow steps on the way home because I feel too exhausted to walk using a regular pace. The neighborhood coyote could come at me right now, and I'd let it attack me, putting no effort into fighting it away.

For someone whose job consists of sitting on a chair listening to a licensed therapist talk to their client all day, I sure do get tired in a snap.

On another note, for someone whose doctor advised limiting long walks, I walk a fucking lot. I need a car. I know that will solve one of my many problems. I can use it for transportation to help Lyaly and Sapphire, too. They have their own cars but choose to walk to work with me so I won't feel alone. At least, if I get one, they won't have to walk home after a long day of their exhausting jobs.

I don't know how they have the patience to work in an elementary school. But I understand they chose to do so because they love to help people, children especially. There are no other people more suitable for this job than they are. Kind, helpful, intelligent, and empathetic. I could go on forever, and it still won't be enough to describe those two.

Sapphie wants to teach fifth grade, while Lyly first grade. I applaud them for that; getting a kid to understand division and reading takes the patience of a saint.

Although I can't speak with a client much due to the lack of a therapist license, sitting at the side and listening taught me a lot. In addition, I take notes whenever I hear something my professor told us to focus on, answer questions when asked, and so on.

I thank my lucky stars-

I thank my luck for having my internship under the wing of a sweet doctor. He could teach me all the concepts of psychology, and I would make notes of everything with a smile donning my face. His soft voice, with a slight Egyptian accent, could make anyone feel better when speaking with him.

He isn't like the other assholes who work at the hospital who think they're all that. Grown people spend ample time insulting the interns, and even nurses, as a side job because they're doctors. I've seen it with my own eyes, and it's disgusting. Okay, you diagnosed one person with Depersonalization-Derealization Disorder. Calm down, Einstein. Someone else did the same thing and went along with their day. They didn't work overtime downgrading other people's achievements.

Let me brag about doctor Mohammad for a second. This man has patients recommending him to generations worth of family members. Yet, how does he acknowledge his great work? Simple, he shakes his head while patting himself on the back.

He's the first person in and the last person out of the hospital. He does this to greet everyone on their way in or out. I've told him to stop doing so when some people ignore him, acting like they own the place. His kind heart doesn't let him do that. He brushes away the fact that it disheartens him when people walk past him as if he isn't standing right in front of them.

Believe it or not, psychologists can be insufferable pricks too. All that teaching goes to waste for people as wise as them too. Sad.

I will protect that man with my life. As for everyone else at the hospital? They can do it themselves.

Okay, let's not get too carried away. A few of the nurses aren't that bad. Highlight the word few. I appreciate their kindness towards me, knowing my inexperience.

I also appreciate the patients that allow me to stay there during their sessions. I know that pouring out your feelings in front of one person is exhausting enough, so imagine two.