Eye of The Tiger

Chapter One

“Hello! Before we get started, I would like you to know that I am a mandated reporter. If at anytime you tell me anything that indicates suicide, harming yourself, or others, I will have to report it. Okay?” I tell my new client, Ashley.
“Okay,” she replies, adjusting the camera on her laptop. I slyly adjust my pajama bottoms.
     One of the benefits of being a telehealth counselor is that I get to work from home part-time. I actually have two jobs. My other part-time job is being a behavior technician for kids who have autism. That job sends me to the homes of clients. 
“I’m so glad you could make it. What brings you in for counseling today?” I ask with a smile. It’s important that clients feel welcomed and comfortable during each session.
     Ashley tells me about how bad her depression has been lately and how much it has damaged her current relationship. I nod my head and listen intently as she speaks.
“Okay, and how has that been making you feel?” I ask her.
“Like a failure,” she says, adjusting the headband on her long dark brown hair. “My boyfriend tells me things that make me feel bad about myself sometimes,” she confides in me. A single tear slides down her face and in that moment, I see a sad and vulnerable 16 year old girl.
“What type of things does he say to you?” I ask her patiently. It’s important to make the client divulge as much information as possible. This helps the counselor get a better understanding of what is going on with their clients.
“Anytime I miss cheer-leading practice because of my depression, he tells me to just suck it up and stop being negative. He’s a jock so he wouldn’t understand. He comes from a family who doesn’t talk about their feelings or mope around, so it’s hard for me to get him to understand,” she says, wiping her eyes with a tissue.
“How does that make you feel?” I ask.
“Stupid... Like maybe I’m overreacting or something,” she tells me. I make note of that in my notebook.
I paraphrase Ashley’s feelings and ask her several more questions.
“Okay, Ashley.... In order for us to work together, I would like to know what goal or outcome would you want to get out of therapy?”
“Hmm... I guess I’d say, to be more happy or at least learn how to deal with my depression when it gets really bad. Plus, I don’t wanna get kicked off the cheer-leading team,” she responds.
“Okay, it seems like you’ve given this some thought. What you are experiencing right now is completely understandable, especially for someone your age. Thank you for sharing this with me, Ashley. I hope that you feel like we’re gonna be able to work together and get you what you need. Okay?” I tell her.
“Okay,” she agrees, smiling at me slightly. She looks a little relieved. Teenagers nowadays deal with a lot more compared to back when I was in high school.
“Okay. I would like for us to come up with coping strategies that will help improve your depression when it gets really bad. Ashley, I want you to know and remember that you are free and full of so many possibilities. How does that sound to you?”
“Good... I hope it helps,” she says.
“Try not to worry. We’ll get through this together. Let’s get you scheduled and we’ll pick it up from here next week,” I tell her and end the video call after we say goodbye.
***
“What up, sis. Long time, no see,” CJ says with that mesmerizing smile of his he probably uses to get women.
“Fresh edge up,” I say, referring to his newly cut curly hair.
“Thanks! You know I gotta look nice for the ladies, ya feel me,” he says and smooths his facial hair down. I roll my eyes.
“ANYWAYS! Let’s go to Carl’s Jr.  “ I say and I see CJ roll his eyes out of the corner of my eyes. “What?” I ask innocently, even though I know whats coming next.
“Of all the delicious non-healthy fast food places to die from, you pick crusty ol Carl’s?!!” He says and we both start crackin up.
“Well, what were you gonna pick?” I ask him and his hazel eyes look down guiltily. 
“I......umm.. was gonna pick Carl’s,” he says and looks at me. We laugh all the way to Carl’s.
     After we snag a table and sit across from each other, I get a good look at my little brother. Although our father has dark brown eyes and skin, CJ has his wide smile and exciting eyes.  He gets his hazel eye color and curly hair from our mother. I get my milk chocolate skin and dark brown eyes from daddy and long curly hair from mom. Dad is African American and mom is half African American and Puerto Rican. CJ is 6’1 and I’m 5’3, talk about opposites.
“Have you met any new people out here yet?” He asks me, stuffing his mouth full of fries. I bite into a freshly made zucchini and watch the steam rise up above my eyes.
“Not really... No wait, actually there’s this neighbor I met and she seemed really nice and funny. I think her name is Emma,” I try to recall.  “I was busy moving boxes from the moving truck into my place and she offered to help me, which was really sweet,” I tell CJ.
“Ooh, I remember her. She was the tall lady with the sandy blonde, long curly hair,” he recalled, with a distant look in his eyes.
“Could you BE any more specific,” I say, referencing Chandler from the tv show Friends.
“Well, she was cute. And she said hi to me,” he said, biting into his famous star burger.
“Anyways, yeah she was nice. And I think she’s a behavior technician like me because I saw her in the same building I work at,” I say.
     After we finish eating, we head out and CJ drops me off at home. Just as I’m about to get my key out of my purse, I see Emma and she waves me over. CJ honks his horn and drives off.
“Hey! It’s Paige, right?” She asks, putting down the book she was reading and taking her sunglasses off. She was dressed in a pretty light green sundress that brought out her eyes.
“Yes, Paige Harris. And you’re Emma?....” I stall, waiting for her to fill in the rest.
“Jones, Emma Jones. You were so busy the other day, we didn’t get to properly introduce ourselves. I’m so glad we’ve got a new face around here. And young too. These apartments are full of nice people, but most of them are so...” she stalls.
“Old,” I finish for her and we both laugh.
“I was gonna say mature,  but that works too. You seem to be around my age. I’m 31. How old are you?” She asks me.
“I just turned 33. Thank goodness! And I saw you at the Maxim Healthcare office, so I’m assuming you’re either a behavior technician or  something else?” I ask, sitting down on the other chair beside her.
“Yup, I’m a behavior technician too. Who’s your supervisor? Sheri?” she asks me and I nod my head yes. “That’s awesome. Neighbors and co-workers! I’ve lived over here for about 5 years now. I’m originally from Philly. What about you?” She asks, tucking a strand of her curly hair behind one ear.
“I’m from Puerto Rico. My mom is half black and Puerto Rican. My father is black. My younger brother and I were born and raised there. We lived there for 8 years after CJ was born. I’m fluent in Spanish, but CJ only knows some. He’s 8 years younger than me,” I tell her.
“No way! Yo también! Mis padres son de Cuba. I’m so glad I won’t lose my Spanish, girl!” she says and I smile at her. She’s very lively and outgoing.
“¿Tienes hermanos o hermanas?” I ask her and she shakes her head no.
“No. Soy hija única. And yes, I’m still spoiled at the age of 31,” she says and we both giggle.
“So, what brings you out here?” She asks, but just as I’m about to answer, her phone goes off. Thank goodness. I almost told her why.
“Aww man, I gotta get ready for work. I have a client in an hour. But put your number in my phone,” she says and hands me her phone.
I quickly type my number in and save it. Then I get up out of the chair and start heading back to my place.
“I’ll hit you up after work. Nice talking to you!” She yells from her porch, even though I literally live right next door.
“Okay,” I say and head inside.