Chapter six: I did not expect that

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𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩

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𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩

I spend all of the first period at our school guidance counsellor's office.

Personally, I didn't want to go, but the school forces you to every couple of months as they're trying to prevent mental health issues in the students or something. Today was my go, and it was a complete waste of time. We didn't talk about anything important, like anxiety and stress. Instead, the counsellor focussed on having a conversation with me about my favourite subjects and what my plans were for after high school.

I wanted to stop her and start discussing things that I did need to talk about. Although I was aching to do so, and I had that urge for the whole forty-five minutes I was sat opposite her, I couldn't do it. The words 'I have a problem and I need to talk about it' seemed impossible to form and often got stuck in my throat.

In the end, I said nothing of the sort and simply sat there as she went on about how I should become a professional artist as it's something that I'm evidently passionate about. The fact that I couldn't ask for help made me realise how difficult it is.

That's what makes what Alex said at the end of our tutoring session cut deeper. He threatened to make fun of my anxiety like it's something to be ashamed about, and it's exactly that shame that prevents people from getting help.

I used to see a therapist until the beginning of junior year. I stopped going because I got a car, and it was either therapy or that for financial reasons. My parents bought my older siblings a car the previous year, which they do have to share, so they couldn't afford both a car for me and the therapy sessions that I was going to. I did argue that I could just share Luca and Sofia's car, but three teenagers sharing one vehicle was destined to be a fail.

I chose the car, not because I wanted it more than I wanted the help, but because I wanted a reason to stop going to therapy. The shame I felt was the reason I wanted to stop. I liked the help, I was definitely grateful for it. I didn't like the embarrassment that came with it.

As I beat myself up about not speaking up about my important issues to the counsellor, I enter my English class.

I know there's no point going to the lesson as I've only got ten minutes left of it, but I know that if I were to get caught loitering the hallways, I'd get detention and then Alex would probably be at that detention. I don't have the energy for another of those confrontations.

"Look who it is!" Luke Maddison exclaims as soon as I'm through the door. "The walking talking pride parade!"

I want to roll my eyes at him, though I don't. I know he'd say something about it and start a whole thing that I'd be desperate to get out of, but would never get the chance to the whole time I'm in the class as he doesn't stop talking.

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