Thats Life

Chapter Thirty-Four

The week went by, uneventful and calm which was weird, usually it meant there was a shit load coming. The calm before the storm, or whatever. Tuesday was my second therapy session, it was good. We continued talking about me and who I was and what I wanted and stuff. Today's session, I was not prepared for how my therapist could change the direction so fast in just two days.

I walk out of my therapy session after discussing the last year of my life, my addiction, relapse, suicide attempt, and my current situation with my secret job, therapy sessions and self-help mission. It seems Dr. Jewell doesn't agree with my choice to keep everything to myself and not confiding in my support system. She says that by holding onto everything like this, I'm going to inevitably build a wall to keep people out of every aspect of my life.

Besides that, she makes me think about things I don't want to think about, making me embrace the situations and feelings rather than hide from them. I leave her office feeling angry, and on edge.

The run to work helps cool off my brain a little, but not enough. I get there and pull the door open to find josh waiting for me in his usual spot behind the desk. "Do you have a lighter?" I ended up giving the one I had back to Tyson, even though he didn't ask for it. I'm not sure why I did it, but I did.

"Good afternoon, I'm doing great thanks for asking!" He jokes. He catches the look on my face and concern spreads across his face, "You aren't going to light yourself on fire, are you?" He pulls the drawer near him open and digs around.

I huff out my nose and shake my head. "No, not this time." My fingers graze his as I grab the lighter from his hands. The contact makes me sigh, I wish I had the energy to fanboy right now, or even maybe flirt a little. Especially because he's wearing a black unbuttoned short sleeve shirt, with a white tank top under that's hugging his muscles very nicely, everything. Every aspect of it compliments him. I groan out loud while briefly turning my head towards the window. He had to look that fucking good today, of all days?

"You alright?" He asks.

I don't even try to hide the fact that I was just checking him out when I look back up to his eyes. "I'll survive." I hold up the lighter in a 'thank you' gesture and turn towards the door. "I always do." I whisper to myself before walking back out the door and lighting a cigarette.

By the time I get the cigarette lit I hear the door behind me open again. I don't turn around, Instead I take another deep drag of the cig. I know therapy is supposed to do this, supposed to make you feel and question and realize but who the fuck is paying for this type of stuff? 'Here, here is 7 million dollars, please make me hate myself more than I already do.' I shake my head at the thought. She wants me to open up to everyone about everything, she wants me on anti-depressants, she wants me to remove half the stuff on my plate and told me that maybe I should ask for part time work because working to avoid my emotions and thoughts is unhealthy and in the long run will make everything worse for me not to mention, I should probably tell Katie about my interaction and intention with Ian. Yeah, yeah, sure fine. But the worst part is, she wants me to forgive my dad. Forgive him. Like walk up to him and tell him that everything he has done in the past, everything he is doing now is no big deal. 'Confront, do not deflect' her voice rings through my head.

Whatever good the nicotine was doing for me is immediately erased and I feel my body heat up again. It just makes me so mad I hate being so vulnerable and then having the person I'm trusting with my thoughts and feelings tell me some dumb shit like that.

Leaning my elbows onto the railing Infront of me, I take two more drags back-to-back and blow out slowly, closing my eyes and imagining that the smoke leaving my body has encased all my rage as they fly away together.