"Are you mad at him?"
"You're the shrink, you tell
me. Should I be mad at him?"
Dr Conner taped his pencil in the
side of the tablet. It's plastic click spilled out in a rhythmic wave.
Tick
Tick
Tick
Tick
"Fine, yes I am angry. Wouldn't
you be? Again he shows he doesn't love me. " I twist in the love seat, my
legs hanging over one of the arm rests, my head over the other. It's as close
to laying down in the cramped off as I can come. "The whole day was planned.
We had lunch reservations and this wonderful little Italian place we both like.
I had tickets to the Mary Poppins’s musical, Shopping in between. Yet his
sister is staying up a day longer and he wants to be with her."
I looked over at the doc watching
him write. I gave up hours ago asking what notes he made about me.
"Was there anything special
about that day?" He asked with a soft voice.
"Not really, the date was
nothing special. It was our anniversary a couple of weeks ago. We couldn't
celebrate it. I was hoping today we could."
"Did he know that?"
I looked at the holes in the celling
tiles "He didn't bother asking"
"Yes, but did you tell
him?"
"I told him I had reservations
and tickets. I didn't tell him what to. He never asked. He just wanted to be
with Susan."
"She lives overseas right?
Wouldn't he want to spend as much time with her as possible before she goes
back home."
I rubbed my face, "in one day,
he spent more time with her than he did with me all last month. Is it any
wonder I feel worthless?"
Dr Conner's put the tablet done on
the desk behind him. Resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together in
front.
"Look
at me Simon," I turn my head. His eyes peer through the glasses right at
me. "Your self worth is not tied in with how he treats you. From what you
have told me he is going through a lot himself right now. You need to stop
judging yourself by how he see and treats you. Show him some compassion and be
there for him."
I sit up proper. Feet on the carpet.
Hands on face to hide the tears. "I can’t help it. He made me believe he
loved me, he told me he would be there. But where is he. Is it too much to ask
for one day?"
With a sigh he sits back in his
chair, "no, it's not to much to ask for, but just because you ask doesn't
mean it can happen. And when it doesn't you can't keep breaking down like
this."
"So what? Just smile and accept
the rejection. It doesn't matter. Right?"
Dr Conner's took my hands off my
face. He kept them in his hands, palm up. The bandages stood out on both
wrists. Blood seeping through the wrappings where the missing ring finger on my
left hand had once been.
"This is not the way to handle
it. This is an extreme reaction for what happened. No one should have this much
control over your emotions. No one, but you."
I looked down at the mutilated
hands. I don't remember much. Alcohol, razors, knives. I had been drunk and
pretty liberal with where I put them in my body. Doctors took hours to stop all
the bleeding. And now I was back here, another 5 day psych hold.
"I don't matter, all I did just
put on the outside what I felt on the inside."
"Why didn't you leave
him?"
"We were good once, it started
so good. I don't know where we went wrong. Where he lost his way with me, where
I became the needy one. I wasn't like this. I used to be strong. I used to be
able to handle rejection. When it was all I knew. He gave me hope. And I
trusted him. I jumped all in. only, when I jumped he took the ground and now I
am falling. I'm so lost and tired."
I couldn't hide the tears now,
didn't want to. The streams flowed down. It went on for a while. Dr Conner just
sat there, letting me get it all out. When I calmed down, he gave me some pills
to take. I stood and exited the room. The orderly that had brought me in still
stood there. Waiting for me. He took me back to my empty single bedroom and sat
there. Watching me. When you’re classified as High Risk for Self Abuse they
don't take their eyes off you.
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