I'm Fine

Prologue: Save Me

The meeting room was always more cramped than Namjoon remembered. Twelve chairs lined three of the four walls, with a computer desk and a chair on the remaining wall. Above the computer desk, was a mounted TV screen.

Namjoon sat at the desk finalizing his lesson plan for the evening. He felt anxious, but he always felt this way when a new intensive outpatient program began. Fresh faces were always welcomed, because it meant reaching out to help more individuals. However, it was always bittersweet, because the people who came to these meetings generally struggled with depression, anxiety, addiction and other complex situations.

This groups sessions lasted for three hours in the evening, three days a week, for eight weeks. It wasn't called an "intensive" outpatient program without reason. Namjoon looked at the roster and noted all six group members were men. He sighed. This was going to make things tricky. After leading numerous group sessions, all men groups tended to be more challenging in the beginning. Group therapy was all about talking and men, on average, didn't want to talk about their problems. He hoped there was at least one talkative person among them. If one talked, it made it easier for the others to open up as well.

A soft knock made Namjoon jump and pulled him from his thoughts.

A young man was standing at the door. He wore a beanie pulled a little too far down on his head, making his ears stick out and forward. His body was engulfed in a large brown coat, making his thin appearance seem even slimmer. The man saw Namjoon and the smile that spread across his face made the whole room feel ten degrees warmer.

"Hello! I'm here for the IOP group. Do I have the right room?" The young man looked around the tiny meeting room curiously before locking his eyes back on Namjoon.

Namjoon stood up and offered his hand in greeting. "Yes! I'm Namjoon. I'll be leading the group sessions."

"I'm Hoseok," the man said brightly as he turned and sat against the wall opposite the desk, completely ignoring Namjoon's outstretched hand.

Namjoon wasn't sure if Hoseok just didn't see his hand or didn't like handshakes. He tried to brush it off by running his hand through his hair and straightening his glasses. He sat back down at the desk and clicked print on the completed lesson plan before locking his computer screen.

"I'll be back in a moment. I have to grab something from the printer. There are some binders on the shelf there. Please grab one. You'll need it to store your group materials." Namjoon pointed towards a neat stack of white binders on a small shelf perpendicular to the desk before leaving the room.

Hoseok grabbed an empty binder and sat back down. Now that Namjoon was gone, the bright smile faded from his face. He had never been in a group therapy session before and didn't know what to expect from the session. Hoseok did fine with one on one therapy in the quiet and comfort of confidentiality. Sharing his feelings and fears and intimate details about one of the worst days of his life didn't feel like help. However, being here wasn't voluntary.

Namjoon reentered the room with another young man. He had dark hair that was grown out long enough to cover his eyebrows and brush against his eyelids. His face looked sullen and pale, which was exaggerated by the all black ensemble of pea coat and skinny jeans.

"Hoseok, this is Yoongi. Yoongi, this is Hoseok." Namjoon introduced them cheerily.

Yoongi nodded towards Hoseok in acknowledgement, but said nothing as he sat in the left corner of the room. Namjoon handed Yoongi a binder and a couple sheets of paper. He handed these same papers to Hoseok before sitting back down at his desk.

Yoongi looked over the papers carefully. One sheet was a set of guidelines for the group, another was phone numbers to a crisis hotline and the direct line to the IOP room. The remaining papers were a packet for the first session containing print outs of PowerPoint slides, worksheets, and homework. He sighed and relaxed his body as much as he could into the uncomfortable chair. He thought this program was a waste of his time, staving off the inevitable. Eight weeks wouldn't change his situation, his feelings, or his mind.