"Really perfection is only just impossibility."
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Sometimes I'm happy to be alone. Glad even that I'm able to enjoy me-time in peace.
Other times I feel so lonely that I can't breathe without enduring the emp...
Shortly after I'd sent the message my mind was convinced it was time to show me an image of my therapist. I tried to push it away, but it wouldn't budge. So, I let myself remember. Dr. Goodman greeted me at her office door. We shook hands and I followed her inside. I straightened my shirt after sitting down in the armchair. It was becoming significantly harder to meet with her. "So, how are you?" she asked when I just smiled at her.
"I'm good."
"Oh?"
"Yeah uhm... I struggled with something for the last few weeks though." She nodded for me to continue. "You know that most of my male friends are football player." Another nod. "Uhm, the team had a hard time getting along though and in a short moment of impulse and anger I kinda-" I cleared my throat and averted my eyes. "Well, I sorta yelled at the team, because they were fighting mid game. The coach saw all this happening and since it seemed like my words could somehow reach them was convinced that I would be good for the team. So, he offered me a position to help them out."
When I looked at her, her brows were furrowed and she looked puzzled. "Help them out how?"
"Well," I cleared my throat again, shifted in my chair. This part I knew she wouldn't like. "I'm there for them whenever they have a problem with another team mate." I settled on the one explanation that wouldn't cause her to lecture me.
Or not.
"So, you listen to their problems day in day out?" She had a disapproving look on her face.
I tried hard to keep myself from cringing. I'd never told her that I thought I was too selfish and I wouldn't ever tell her. I would never utter a single word about this to anyone on this planet.
"Well, not exactly, but sometimes." I shrugged and looked at my lap.
"And how do you feel about this? Does this not burden you? I mean, it's nice of you to do it, but I want to be sure that this is okay for you."
"It's okay. Sometimes it makes me worried, but I can handle it."
"If this is negatively influencing your mental health then you need to stop. You need to focus on what's good for you too."
I nodded, but my heart wasn't in it and she knew it too.
"Ugh!" Tyler's grunt of pain as he was tackled at the 20 yard line pulled me out of my thoughts. I was so enveloped in my mind that I hadn't noticed that they'd started practice at all. I let my gaze slip to my phone. 1 new message.
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I sighed and rested my forehead in my palm. All throughout practice my tummy was aching so bad I thought I was gonna be sick. I was a fidgety, nervous mess. My heart was its own bundle of nerves, weighing me down like a rock. My heart was pounding in my chest, because of the fact that my body told my mind that it was going to throw up any second now. My skin was alternating between hot and cold flashes. I felt perspiration on my forehead as well as on basically every other part of my body. My skin was covered in goosebumps. Any minute now I was going to faint of that I was sure. The sigh that escaped my lips sounded strangled.
