therapy

to new starts

"Are you sure the therapist said four?" My mom said as she put the car into reverse and started to park it.

"Yeah, that's what the email said," I told her as I scrolled through my feed. I was too nervous to even look at her right now.

"Alexandra, you're going to be fine, you've been doing therapy for four years now. It's new, but it won't be any different than your last support group."

I know my mom was trying to be supportive, but she was kind of making things worse.

Up until last week, I had been in a group therapy program. I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say I got close with all of the people in it. Maybe even a little too close with a certain boy, but I don't particularly want to get into that right now. Anyways, with my fantastic luck, my therapist got fired for sleeping with one of his patients. I never liked him anyways. Now, I'm starting a new group, much to my dismay.

"Whatever, mom," I told her as reached into my pocket for a piece of gum. "It's just another therapy session, right?"

When the car came to a complete stop, I got out and ran to the nearest trash can to throw away my gum wrapper. My mom trailed behind me.

"Let's just signed in, okay?" She told me as she made her way towards the two doors in the front of the building. She motioned me to follow her.

Dragging my feet, I followed her into the building.

When I entered it, I was appalled by how cold it was. The AC must have been cranked on the highest setting. I already hated this place.

"Hi, how can I help you?" The woman at the front desk said.

"Hello, we're here to get signed in," My mom chirped back. I was sick of all this positivity. I just wanted to go home and go to sleep.

"Great, here are some forms for you to fill out while you're waiting," The woman said as she handed two clipboards to my mom. One for me, and one for her.

My mom and I sat down in the waiting room. My eyes scanned the clipboard on my lap.

On a scale of 1-10, how are you feeling?

I bit my lip and circled the number 4.

As I moved through the clipboard, I noticed that more people started to show up. I guess they were fashionably late. I noticed a girl with thick rimmed glasses, clutching onto a book. I also noticed a boy who was by himself in the corner, clutching onto what looked like a guitar pick?

No wonder he's in therapy.

I pulled myself out of my judgmental state and I finished filling out the invasive questions. Once my mom was done too, she brought the clipboards back up to the front desk.

She could tell I was nervous, she could always tell. One of the reasons she could tell was because I was biting my lip constantly. It's what I do when I get nervous. My mom always gets on my ass about it, but at least I don't do drugs.

"Alexandra," My mom started. "Relax, you'll be okay." She got up and grabbed her purse from the floor of the waiting room. "I have to leave because I have to pick up your brother from baseball, but I'll be back in an hour or so, okay?"

I nodded my head and she gave me a kiss on the cheek. She left the room, and I was all by myself.

Going back to my judgmental state, I looked at the boy again. He was still clutching onto a guitar pick, and he was looking at his shoes.

The girl with the thick rimmed glasses, however, was really invested into her book.

I wondered if it was only three of us, and I hoped it wasn't. Don't get me wrong, those people seem nice, just not my type.