I sit here across from this lady dressed in a blue cardigan, black dress up pants and a off white blouse. She has brown glasses short hair and her name is Marie. She states "we're going to get through this" all bullshit I have heard before, but if I want out of this god dam place, I'm going to have to act like a good girl. She leans in and says, "how are you feeling?"
I want to scream at her for asking in the first place and honestly, why the fuck does she care. She doesn't know me and she sure in the hell shouldn't get to know me.
"Im fine" saying with to much enthusiasm.
"If we are fine today, how did we get here?"
She sounds to nice and trying to break down walls that I'm ready to set on fire with her and everyone else in this goddam building. I look at her with eyes narrowed. Hopefully finding her soul to scare.
"I don't know Marie, how did we get here, since you so interested in wanting to know." This may have come out as snappy and rude as fuck but I don't care. I don't fucking trust adults and honestly they shouldn't trust me!
She writes things down and I can her the pen on the paper scratching away. Which only irritates me more.
"Why the fuck are you writing this down? Aren't therapist suppose to have a good memory and remember this shit!" I'm yelling now with no regrets.
I wish I could say I'm always like this. Yelling at people who want to know me. Who wants to get to understand my pandora box, but honestly, I was really sweet or at least I tried to be. But life gets a head of you. Sometimes all you want is the nightmares to stop. You want to feel alive again but everything inside of me died. not because I wanted it to. Not because I gave up on myself.. or maybe I did, I just wanted it all to fucking stop. I wanted time to slow and someone just take me out of this world. To make the pain and aches I can't describe go away.
I didn't express my feelings to "Marie." The rest of our 45 minutes were silence. I tried to formulate whether or not I could tell her things. I decided to keep it safe and not say a goddam word. At the end of the session she gave me a book and a weird pencil that didn't feel like a pencil at all and more like paper. I took them didn't say a word and walked back to my room with an uneasy feeling, that I just fucked myself over and I'm not getting out anytime soon.