Collin
~
These past two days have gone by extremely slow.
After Margo left, group therapy became extremely unbearable; and, suddenly I realized how much I don't care to share my feelings with random people.
Without Margo, there was no one to hang out with. I saw Bell once, but she was crying in a corner and wanted to be left alone. I called Margo once, but she sounded sad and exhausted, which rubbed off on me.
Thankfully today is my last day. Unfortunately, that also means it's my therapy appointment with my family.
I packed up all my shit last night and decided to wear a pair of jeans and a cotton sweater. My mom likes when I dress "presentable," and I'd like to pick and choose my battles today.
I'm not expecting much feedback from my father. I doubt he'll say anything other than an introduction. My mother will do the talking, and probably the crying.
I throw my head in my pillow, sighing out heavily. The hot air covers my face and the feeling of suffocation is almost peaceful. I take my head out. That's not a great thought.
I pull myself up and out of my room, heading to therapy wing for my appointment.
I press the button, indicating I'm here. Dr. Indy opens the door immediately. "Collin! Good morning. How are you?"
I walk in as he steps aside, taking a seat. My parents aren't here yet, thankfully. "Okay," I mumble. "nervous."
"Nervous? For your parents to join us?" He asks.
I nod my head once. I'm embarrassed to admit the fear and anxiety my parents cause me.
"There's no need to be nervous," Dr. Indy assures me. "you control the entire session. If it's proving to not be helpful, we end it. It's all on your terms. You're the priority here."
I hear his words and try to digest them, but my paranoia is winning.
Dr. Indy and I go over the goals for the session, but I'm practically dissociating the entire time.
A knock sounds at the door and the knot in my stomach grows. I don't bother standing as Dr. Indy heads for the door.
They shake hands, reintroduce themselves, faking smiles and pleasantries.
My father walks in first. His talk, dark figure making me feel small as it always does. He's clad in his usual navy work suit, his briefcase in hand. Everyone says we look alike, but all I see is a scary man.
"Son," he nods, the smallest smile on his lips.
I raise my brows in acknowledgment, trying to prepare myself for my mothers entrance.
I hear her shout my name in her whiney high pitched voice. She pulls me into a hug and kisses my cheek. "I've missed you so much,"
I pat her back. "Missed you too, Mom,"
"So," Dr. Indy waltzes over to his chair and pulls out his journal. "todays session won't be too straining. I thought it'd be beneficial for Collin to express his feelings to you both before returning home."
My mother smiles as she sits very close to me on the couch. Her perfume stings my nostrils, but it's a scent I can admit I have missed. My mother can be a lot, but I do love her.
"I'm glad you invited us. I will do anything to help our son," she says, her voice cheery and soft.
My father doesn't say anything, he simply looks down, pulling on his fingers.
"Perfect," Dr. Indy's pitiful smile makes me want to roll my eyes. "Collin, we'll start with you. Is there anything you want to say before we start?"
I stare at him blankly. "Um, not really,"
Dr. Indy laughs. "All right, does anyone want to start the conversation or shall I?"
My mother turns to face me, her eyes soft and hesitant. I can tell she wants to say something, so I give her an encouraging look.
"I just-" she sighs, looking at her husband then to the floor. "is it something I did? As your mother, was I absent? Am I? I am trying, but I don't know what to do. How to help,"
"Um," I hesitate to respond, my thoughts suddenly leaving me. "no. Well, it's not your fault but sometimes I could use my parents and you guys aren't there, or you don't understand. That's not your fault, though, I guess."
My father looks at me, his eyes void of emotion.
Neither of them say anything. My mother's eyes are welling up with tears and my father can't stand to look at me for too long.
"Why don't we unpack that, yeah?" Dr.
Indy says. My parents nod, grateful for the disruption. 088
"Collin has dealt with a substantial amount of trauma at a very young age. It's hard for him to speak about, or even recognize, and we are working on that. Collin doesn't need someone to coach him through all his trauma and issues, that's what I'm for. He needs his parents. He needs the kind of love that you can only get from your parents. He needs presence, someone who can give him what no stranger ever could," I fight the urge to laugh at that.
Margo has given me more than my parents ever could. She's not really a stranger anymore, though.
"I'm meant to be his father, not his friend." My father's deep voice booms.
I look to him, his eyes no where near mine.
"I'm not saying you need to be his friend, I'm saying he needs his father. It's not enough to merely say you're his father. To financially support him. He needs emotional support. The security and love that family can give,"
"I understand," my mom says softly. She turns to me. "are we not present enough?"
"Is that a trick question?" I respond sarcastically.
"Collin," Dr. Indy says sternly, shaking his head once.
My mom furrows her brows. "I'm sorry. I thought I was doing good. We just- we work a lot."
Work a lot? How about the vacations they take without me? The nights they go to dinner for themselves, leaving me to fend for myself. The days I go without seeing them because they're gone when I wake for school until I fall asleep at night.
"I don't blame you, but I do resent how absent you've both been from my childhood," I say honestly. I look to Dr. Indy and he looks at me with pride. That's enough to make my heart swell.
"and," I say, swallowing to build up the courage. "that absence lead me to grandma." My father's eyes widen and fill with worry.
"You know we never wanted that to happen," my mother says quickly.
"I didn't say that," I respond. "I just said since you guys were working all the time, grandma and grandpa had to take care of me."
"We had no choice," my father says. Every time he speaks I want to jump. His deep voice stresses me out. "would you rather we put you with some random babysitter?"
"If it meant I wasn't abused, yeah." I say bluntly.
My father frowns, nodding his head. Silence falls on us until he says: "I'm sorry. I didn't know she was capable of what she did. She wasn't around for me as a kid."
"I don't blame you," I say. I don't know where this sudden confidence is coming from, but I appreciate it. "I just want my parents. I need you guys more than ever now, and it just seems like you don't know what to do with me, so you put me here."
"We don't know what to do," my mother answers. "we've never dealt with this before."
"That's what I'm here for," Dr. Indy adds. "I can provide you guys with some healthy methods for growth but it all starts with communication."
"What can we do better, sweetie?" My mom asks, her hand rubbing my arm gently.
I decide to be honest. It might suck later on when I have to be alone with them, but nothing is going to get better if I keep lying.
"It's hard for me to constantly be alone. When you guys are gone all day and busy all night, I'm basically stuck with my mind and it's hard for me to remember that I have people who love me. It just gets dark and my thoughts are too much. Sometimes it feels like you guys never loved me at all."
My father shakes his head. "We will always love you, Son. No matter what."
"You guys say that, but I don't see it. I'm dropped off here and I don't hear from you guys the entire time. I go through trauma and you guys refuse to acknowledge it. I know we're all new to this so I don't blame you, I swear I don't, but it's hard."
"When you told me about Grandma, my entire world shattered," my mom speaks quietly. "to know that the person I left you with, the person I trusted you with, hurt you, made me sick. A part of me disconnected that day, and I blame myself. I took it out on you by avoiding you because I didn't want to see the pain I caused. I'm so sorry, sweetie. I'm so so sorry," her voice cracks and I throw my arms around her, hugging her tight.
I really assumed the worst of them. I just thought they hated me, but watching my mother cry over what has happened to me... to our family, that's a different level of pain.
I hear my father walk over and wrap his arms around us, hugging us close.
"I'm sorry, too, Son," my father reiterates.
~
The rest of the session was just as painful. Dr. Indy gave us some tips and recommended another group session if needed.
Now I'm on my way home with my parents and I feel like I may be sick.
I hated the hospital, but I also don't want to go home. So much has happened in that house, so much pain, and I don't know if I'm ready to go back.
I don't have a choice, though.
My Dad pulls the car into the garage and we head inside. Dad brings my bags to my room and I take in the massive white house that feels nothing like home.
The crystal clean floors and counter tops with furniture that seems untouched feel foreign to me. Our house is always spotless, that's how my mother prefers it. Of course I love cleanliness, but something about it makes it feel like a show home instead of a place where a family lives.
I tell my parents I'm tired and to wake me up for dinner before I drag myself up our wooden stairs.
I push open the door to my room, my light grey walls and lack of decoration coming to view.
The only thing in here that seems recognizable to me are my books. Everything else feels fake. I don't feel connected to this place anymore. It's simply where I sleep.
I brush off that feeling and dig through my bags to try and find my phone. My dad said he threw it in one of the bags after they gave it back to him.
Once I find it I throw it onto the charger and go looking for the piece of paper with Margo's phone number on it.
Is it bad that all I want to do is talk to her? To tell her I'm free? To possibly finally see her again?
It's only been three days and I miss her. Pathetic.
When my phone finally lights up, I grab it and call the number. On the last ring, right when I'm about to give up, I hear her.
"Hello?" She says, her voice low and uninterested.
"It's Collin,"
"You're free?!" She shouts happily. Damn, I wish I could see her right now.
"Yeah, I'm free," we stay quiet, probably both thinking the same thing. Im about to say it when she does instead.
"So when and where are we meeting?"