"Do you hear me? Do you hear me huh? Do you hear me? If you walk out that door we are done!" Carina turns around to look at me and my heart sinks because I see nothing but pain in those eyes, I used to stare into them wishing I could steal some of their happiness and now they are empty. I did this to her, and I wish I could take it all back. Please my love, fight back! Don't let me push you away. Please just stay.
I wake up gasping for air, almost knocking myself out from how hard I grab at my ears trying to stop myself from hearing the memory play itself out as it did every morning. "I lose you either way, bella. I'd rather lose you and have you be alive." I drop my hands and they catch the first of my tears as those words echo through the lonely rooms we used to call our home.
Great. Flashbacks of my wife leaving me. Just another tick on a long list of reasons my wife made the right choice when she forced me into a looney bin.... a psychiatric hold I have to correct myself. Shaking my head in an attempt to get rid of that phrase. Just thinking of it as a looney bin makes me shiver from Diane's look of disapproval, the first time I used it. Nope, not working. I stumble to the bathroom a little lightheaded from hitting myself in the left ear harder than I meant to.
"I think it's beneath you, and I know it's beneath me" Diane's words slowly start drowning out my wife's goodbye, making it less loud, but never taking it away. Both women's tone of disappointment following me around like a song I can't get out of my head. While I wait for the water to get warm in the shower I go through the new mantras Diane taught me to keep my head out of the clouds.
I look at myself in the mirror and picture my three-year-old self. I smile when I see the cute little girl, who's been helping me heal, look back at me. "You are loved. I love you" She gives a small little smile before transforming into an older version of ourselves. Maybe twelve, I think. She's sitting next to our dad, and I can practically see the steam coming out of his ears, he's so mad. We're on an airplane on our way home from my second track meet ever. I tap the glass to get her attention. "Keep your head out of the clouds Maya, you don't have to wait to be in them before you can rest."
The teen turns her head from the window and her eyes are filled with tears when they land on me. He's going to make me walk home from the airport because I didn't break the state record like I did the previous weekend. I can feel her thoughts more than hear them, and I want to sooth her so bad that I actually hit my hand against the glass in an attempt to rub her back. "Winning isn't everything in life, bella". The term of endearment slipping out before I can catch myself. Damn, I miss my wife.
I get into the steaming shower thinking of my sixteen-year-old self being in this very same position, trying to wash away the shame she felt from her father's resentment because she fell for a girl, who became a distraction and caused her dad to stop loving her. "You don't need his love kid. You will learn to love in this lifetime, no need to push to the finish line to experience it".
You'll also experience getting your heart ripped out because of it, but we're learning to come to terms with losing too. Or so Diane is trying to teach us. I rinse out the conditioner in my hair, naively not wanting my former self to know how badly we screwed up the love we managed to receive in this stupid life. Why did I push Carina away? And I'm crying again. Great.
I'm also weirdly mad at Carina that she took her shampoo and conditioner to the hotel she's been staying at. I accidently washed my hair with it the night after my first session with Diane, and my pillow ended up smelling like her. I was planning on 'accidently' using it again the night she showed up to get some of her things. Now, a week later and I can hardly sense her in this house anymore.
I wish I could just smell her shampoo bottle... And another tick for the clipboard of crazy. Good thing I have another session with Diane scheduled this morning. She might make an exception for using that word to describe the lady sniffing her wife's shampoo bottle.
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I make my way into the gym Diane chose to use for today's session, throwing my half-eaten breakfast sandwich in the bin, near the door. You can rest in this life, indulge in this life, love in this life. This mantra was exhausting. "Don't think I didn't see that Lieutenant Bishop, I'm going to have to write you up for that" Diane likes teasing me about my eating habits.
"Hey. I'm sleeping, I'm going to therapy to earn my wife's love back, but I have never been one to indulge in food. I don't like eating so sue me, and getting half of that greased up slice of bread in my body should be noted in that little black book you have on me." I tap at her bag, trying to sound sarcastic but it coming out a bit snarky. "Sorry. I think only talking to a shrink these last three weeks have been really bad for my sarcasm."
Diane barks out a short laugh while handing me the smoothie menu at the juice bar. I raise my eyebrow. Is she serious, I get to eat, well drink, something healthy again. Not giving her the opportunity to take it back I tell the kid behind the counter I want the green smoothie, ignoring the dramatic eyeroll from my gym partner for the day. "You didn't really eat half of that sandwich, did you?" I grin at her with a small shake of my head that she may have missed if she wasn't a freaking shrink that's trained to assess every little thing I do. "I can promise you that I will drink the whole smoothie though"
Taking the straw out of my mouth after swallowing half off it on our way to the treadmills. I look at her sheepishly and smile for the first time in weeks. The muscles in my cheeks, that has been laying dormant, making themselves known.
"You are one of a kind Bishop." She shakes her head in amusement. "I gave you an assignment to eat nothing but junk food and candy for five days and yet here you are, all giddy over a kale and some fungus smoothie." Her words getting further away as I basically skip to my treadmill having finished my first meal, if you can call it that, in five days. Like I said, not a fan of putting anything in my body that's bad for it.
"How's that ankle Bishop?" She points to it as we start stretching, but I'm jumping up and down too excited to take note of the question and jump on the treadmill, stretching my arms. "I can't believe I'm finally going to be allowed to run again. This makes me way giddier than my kale, cucumber, apple and mint smoothie. No fungi in there Dr. Lew..." I shut up immediately when she grabs my arm, demanding eye contact. "My ankle is fine. I promise. Dr. Lincoln looked at it on Monday. I have a doctor's note to prove it." I lean over the handles, grabbing the note from my bag and waving it at the good therapist. "I'm not pushing through the pain, I promise. I'm just happy to run again. It's been over a month, and I miss it almost as much as I miss my wife."
Diane gets on the treadmill next to me, choosing Central Park as our route and loading it on the projector in front and syncing it to our screens. My muscles are twitching in anticipation. "Nice. I don't think I've ever run in Central Park before." I think back to all my track meets and count the New York tracks really quick. "Yeah, Icahn Stadium six times. Never went sight-seeing now that I think back."
Diane tilts her head to the side and looks at me curiously. "Okay Bishop. We are jogging. I mean it. Taking it slow. I want you to enjoy the scenery and ease back into it." She holds her hand over the buttons so I can't increase the speed she already programmed. "Let's start with two miles in thirty minutes?" Maybe I should get my hearing looked at the next time I go for a check up because it sounded like... and from the expression on her face it seems like there's no problem with my hearing after all.
"Please tell me you're kidding?" I look at her dumbfounded, my legs now tingling to run away. For a slit second today I forgot this was still therapy to fix my brain. I just got so excited to finally work out again. "Diane, with all due respect I ran the ten thousand meters in thirty minutes when I won gold in the Olympics." I hate whining, but I mean seriously!?
"Yes Maya, I know you won a gold medal in the Olympics. The whole of America was very proud of you. But have you ever run just to enjoy it and not to use it as a coping mechanism or to stomp the 'Eyes forward' mantra into yourself with every step?" The couch therapist voice finally joining the party. I roll my eyes at her and try to unclench my fists, taking a deep breath. You're doing this for Carina, I tell myself as I take a breath. "That's it Maya, deep breaths. I'm not doing this to punish you. I am asking you to take it slow so running can become your happy place again. I want you to experience the sightseeing in life, if you will, while you run and not at the - "
Clearly my face must have shown the confusion I felt because, what the hell was this woman talking about? Diane gives out that bark laugh she does before coming to stand in front of me and take my hand in both of hers. "Bishop, you just told me five seconds ago how you've been to New York six times and haven't even seen Central Park. You need to learn to enjoy life, that is what we're here to do today." I pull my hand out of hers and link them over my head while taking a deep breath. I drop them to my chest and roll my hands over each other letting her know to continue.
"I want you to use the biggest link you have to your father and make it your crutch, so when you are sad and need to comfort your three-year-old, seven-year-old or twenty-year-old self you can use this thing you love to quiet your father's words and prove to yourself that you are worthy of being loved. No finish-lines needed because you're not racing anywhere. You are enjoying your surroundings."
I have to swallow a growl as I start jogging at a snail's pace. This is torture, but if it helps Diane fix me, then I will rewire my whole body and mind if it means I can get my wife back sooner. About ten minutes in and my mind is screaming at me, my body begging me to go faster, itching to win at something. This is not torture, this is hell. I open my mouth to tell Diane exactly that while reaching for the buttons to increase my speed, when I hear her wheezing next to me.
I drop my hands before they reach the buttons and I look over at her very smugly and try to make a joke when she has to shatter my improved mood. "So, have you talked to your wife again after last week?" I crack my neck and focus on the screen in front of me clenching my jaw shut as tightly as my lips. The shame and hurt washing over me, stealing my breath away. Eyes forward. Don't let people see you cry. "No Maya, no eyes forward. Tell me what you see on the screen." I hear her voice but not the words as I start playing that night over again in my head.
"You can always come home" I say, wishing she would just look at me. I'll sleep on the couch, the kitchen floor, hell. I'll even sleep outside the front door if she'll just stay and be in our home. I just need her here, I need her presence, her warmth, her smile...
" I need more time." Her words slice through my heart. You did it Bishop. You ruined the best thing in your life. ".... another thing you did to keep your job." She says before walking out of my life for the second time in so many weeks.
"......Lieutenant Bishop, Bishop! Maya....Maya, I swear if you are pulling an eyes forward on me right now!" The hiss in Diane's voice breaks through my flashback and I have to look up to the ceiling to keep my tears from falling freely.
"Sorry. Sorry, I'm back. I....I'm back" my voice sounds thick from forcing myself not to cry. I hate that since my first snot dripping meltdown with Diane, I can't seem to push my feelings down anymore. "Tell me what you see on your screen Bishop. Right now!" She demands, now standing on the side of the belt so she can focus on me solely, bringing me back to the present.
"Trees, benches, people..." Diane interrupts me and ask me to give a more detailed description. "There is a guy in a green hoody running towards me, his smile looks kind. There is a lady with a red bow sitting down on a bench next to an older lady reading a book. It seems like they know each other. Her mom maybe. There's a little boy feeding the pigeons...." As I recite all the activity happening on the screen in front of me I can hear my voice get steadier and the tears drying up.
"See, running for fun is relaxing" Diane smirks next to me, having proven her point and starts her treadmill up again, joining me for our relaxing jog. "So, getting back to your wife?" I let out a growl low in my throat gripping the handles on the machine until my knuckles turn white. "No, I haven't talked to her since. I'm giving her more time like she asked, and I just have to believe that I'll be better by the time she wants to come home"
"Love yourself first Maya, the rest will fall into place." I roll my eyes wishing I believed her like I did the first time she said it to me. "Yeah sure" I loosen my grip and hug myself subconsciously. It's been over a month since I broke Carina's heart and I'm starting to think I might need more than some powerful mantras to help me come to terms with her never coming back.
"You begged her to let you see her and she made up some terrible excuse about hotel shampoo to come home. Don't lose hope yet Maya, I believe your wife loves you." She reaches over and hovers her hand a little from my back, silently asking for my permission to let her touch me after an emotional episode. I lean back into her hand, happily accepting her soothing touch as she rubs my back to try and comfort me. "And I think it's admirable that you have put off going back to work so we can have more session a week in order to get better for your wife." Then why does it feel like I'm not doing enough? I'm doing the right thing, aren't I? I'm getting help like she wanted me to, so why can't she come home?
"But Maya, you've been cleared for active duty for a week now, and for desk duty three weeks ago. You can't put your life on hold and expect to heal a lifetime of trauma in a month." I get off the treadmill and shake out my legs from the longest, yet shortest run ever. I take a sip from my water bottle and look at my feet when I reply. "I just want to prove to her that my job isn't as important to me as she is." I shuffle my feet over and behind each other, knowing she wants me to keep talking.
"I'm also a little embarrassed to go back to work. Having my co-workers know that I was put on leave because my wife had to commit me to a loon -" I slap my hand over my mouth and look at her. Apologizing with a small shrug "That I had a mental and physical breakdown" She raises both her eyebrows, letting me know that the slip didn't go unnoticed but to continue my rambling anyway. "I don't want to appear weak at work. Becket already made my life hell before, I don't think I can handle his smug little face right now. Putting me down or not letting me do my job because he thinks I'm unstable and crazy."
Diane slaps me with a towel at the word before handing it to me. We don't talk as we walk back to our cars, parked ironically next to each other. "That's too bad Bishop" Hearing her speak again makes me jump. Since I started talking to Diane, I've come to enjoy the little moments of silence she gives me to reflect on how far I've come in admitting my feelings and fears out loud. I open the back door to my car and throw my bag across the seat looking over my shoulder to show her I'm listening. "I wrote a letter to Chief Ross clearing you for duty before our session started. Your first shift starts tomorrow at 8am" the little therapist drops the bomb on me and then runs away before I can even come to terms with it. Seeing the lights on her car flicker as she unlocks it sets me into motion.
I slam my car door shut and run after her. "Wait wait wait. I'm not ready. I....I can't go....No! I need more time." She opens her door and I place my arm across the opening, stopping her from getting in. "I'm not...I... You haven't fix.... I'm not fixed yet" I'm out of breath from catching up to her before she could leave. She gently lowers my arm and gives me a little push away from her car.
"Bishop" Why does it sound so patronizing? "New assignment for this week." Oh no. I have to use the last of my energy to keep my eyes locked in their socket and not let them roll back in my head like they want to. The mantras don't work Dr. Lewis. My wife still won't talk to me and I've been going over each new one you give me a million time a day. Well not a million, but close enough. It's like she can hear my thoughts because she reaches out and touches my arm and I want to cry again.
"Don't worry. This one will be fun. It involves running." I perk up at the mention of the activity I've loved since I was a little girl. Finally, an assignment that's physical and doesn't require me to talk to my own imaginations. "I want you to run with Central Park in your mind and I want you to tell everyone you pass that you are not broken, that you don't need fixing. You are hurting, and you are healing." My head drops. Oh, for fuck's sake. Seriously!?
"Diane. I think you and I have very different ideas of what fun is. I don't like talking to people. Especially when I run, and I definitely don't like admitting that I'm broken or damaged or ... hurting." A shiver runs through my whole body as I say the last word. I won an Olympic Gold Medal on a sprained ankle. I sure as hell don't like admitting when I'm hurt.
"I never said it was going to be fun for you Maya. I meant this was going to be fun for me, because you and I will be having our next session on Tuesday after shift, right here and you're going to show me what you learned out loud." I can't believe Diane right now. She's a therapist. She's suppose to be helping me, yet she looks like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland with that grin. All at the expense of the pain she knows this is going to cause me. Right, that's why she's doing it. More trauma to talk about in our future sessions. Fun. Just like she said.
"Oh, and Maya. Every time I hear you using the word fix or broken, or looney bin for that matter, ever again. I will add an extra ten minutes to your jogging route. So keep it up Lieutenant, by my count you will start this little exercise with two miles in fifty minutes. And I'll know if you cheat." By the time I manage to get my jaw of the floor my therapist is speeding past me, waving as she leaves the parking lot. Leaving me no choice but to go home with my tail between my legs and prep for my shift tomorrow.