Short Story: I saw a therapist once. I made her cry.
I saw a therapist once. I made her cry.
I wasn’t quite sure what line it was exactly, but the typical 5 minute rage-filled monologue I just vomited up sent her straight in to tears. She was stone-faced, stoic with a stare that blows right past everything in the room and settles on something, someone, somewhere in another world. It is the loneliest stare I have ever seen.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
She sat silent.
I fell silent, staring back at her in anticipation that her gaze would eventually break and she would simply wipe her tears and apologize like they do in the movies. But she just kept staring as a second tear careened down her left cheek and fell on her notepad causing the paper to wrinkle.
I glance at the clock and there’s still twenty-five minutes left in our session. I had some things I needed to get off my chest, but her trance was haunting. I started to study her for some kind of clue that she was ready to continue the conversation.
Her breathing was slow and purposeful, but for some reason she looked weighed down. Like she sat in the bottom of an hourglass that had already covered her shoulders.
I started thinking back to my opening rant but I wasn’t paying attention to her reactions while I continued to hammer on every little thing that pissed me off that week. I started to think back why I even started seeing a therapist. I couldn’t put my finger on it.
After a while I, too, got lost in the ethereal stare. My thinking became so fast that each thought ran together, one after another, after another until I found myself surrounded by a big dark cloud of all the memories and bullshit that’s stuck in my head every single day.
I was stuck, but instinctively knew the way out. I summoned up the courage and took the deepest breath my lungs could hold. I breathed in so hard I though my lungs were going to pop right out of my chest like a balloon exploding because someone forgot to stretch it out before putting air in it. I held it right there at maximum capacity and when I let go the cloud just floated away.
A few seconds later, the cloud clears and I’m standing on a breathtaking mountain top surrounded by the most spectacular scene I’ve ever laid eyes on. In that moment I felt at peace. I stared at that horizon, soaking up every last drop of this unimaginable beauty. Nothing else mattered. I hear a knock on a door.
I break my stare, gathered myself and began to wipe the tears from that had now soaked my cheek on my shirt sleeve. The doctor, still as poised as the moment I walked in, uncrossed her legs and took a tissue from the box on the table.
“Ah. Time flies… Is there something that we didn’t cover that you’d like me to follow up with?” she asked.
“No. Thanks, Doc. I will see you next month,” I replied, feeling more at peace than I had at another other point in my life. “Thanks for everything,” I said as I looked at her and felt a connection that flooded light on the deepest part of my soul that had never had a chance to see sunshine.
She smiled and replied with a knowing spark in her eye, “See you next month.”