Sessions

TWOSDAY: DR. Jones

I rushed to get dressed. I knew I wasn’t going to make it to the office in time. Thank God this client would wait, and though I’d already rescheduled him for midday last week, but that completely slipped my mind since Angela had never confirmed or updated my calendar as always!

I floated down the highway; Jaguar in fourth gear. I went ahead and text Angela the moment that I left the house, but she hadn’t texted me back. I was hoping she was making sure everything was OK in the office. She knew it wasn’t like me to be late, and this was the second day in a row. She knew I was beating myself up about it and she probably just didn’t want to annoy me.

I’d already chewed her out about the moody Monday comment; and she looked a little hurt initially; but I know that she understood, because she said, “I really do need to work on that.”

And I was proud of her for being accountable, and I still needed her, and I appreciated her. So even though I had to check her about that unprofessional s**t. I was glad that we talked it out.

Miles was doing much better with the new medication according to the email from his wife this morning. She usually emailed me twice a week and even though she didn’t usually email me right after my session with Miles; he HAD stayed late after his breakdown from the flashback; and I guess he told her what he been doing all that time. Hopefully he included why he’s been going through it and exactly what anniversary was coming up to explain the mood swings and standoffish behavior.

She was also proud of him and as soon as he took his old medication, he felt much better, and he slept well through the night. They even slept in the bed together, and he didn’t have any nightmares, and when his son climbed into bed while he was still asleep, it didn’t send him spiraling. He woke up. He saw his son and he hugged him tighter. She said she even thought she saw a tear trickle down his cheek. It’s been a long time since his son wanted to be held by his dad, or didn’t reject his touch altogether, and they slept there all night.

I don’t think any of them actually slept, from what she said; they just snuggled into each other, and by the morning, when they all had drifted off to sleep, they were too tired to get up at the sound of the alarm. She let her son stay home from school that day, and they all just laid in the bed and, in any other circumstance, I would’ve been concerned that maybe he’s depressed, but that email made me feel better. It reminded me that what I was doing was helping people, and that I couldn’t just get lost in my own troubles.

I had to stay the course. My reputation preceded me, and I wasn’t going to lose it because of some random one night fiasco with an X! And that’s absolutely what we’re calling it, because I don’t even want to think about the idea of what I would have to do to get rid of him if I kept this child... well, possible child.

That reminded me to stop at CVS but when I got there, they were out of Plan B, and so was the Walgreens across the street! Pissed wasn’t the word! So instead I got in my car, straightening my collar, adjusting my glasses and drove to work with my head held high, feeling like a damn fool.

My client today whose name was Sincere, was an orphan abandoned by his sexually abusive father who left the family home and never returned; when he confronted him in front of his mother, at the breakfast table when he was 7 years old then subsequently neglected by his mother until the state stepped in and removed Sincere.

His mother, never quite got over his father, leaving them. She and Sincere blamed himself. She last spoke to him at 9 years old from the state run facility he was being fostered at. He never knew why she stopped visiting him and he hadn't spoken to either of his birth parents since. He had multiple personality disorder, and so most sessions ended up being more than one. I never booked anyone on his day because I knew I was going to do at least two sessions any given Tuesday.

Hopefully I will get a chance to speak to Sincere this week. Last week. He never even came out. I spoke to one of his altars who is a sweet little boy around the age of four, but most of our sessions were incoherent. He didn't even have a name, all the other alters called him Bae’Boy. I could get valuable information from him, but he was very shy, and it took a lot of patience and coercion. I knew that he had established his self to protect Sincere’s innocence from something traumatic that had happened to him at that age or before, but we hadn’t gotten far enough in our sessions to really figure out what.

I’d already labeled Sincere a sociopath before i met any of his alters because his primary self didn’t express emotion; possibly out of fear; but nonetheless, you could not get any emotional reaction out of him. He never spoke about feelings, everything was very matter of fact and logic based; even to the degree that sometimes things were not even logic based, since logic doesn’t reject or ignore emotions, but Sincere did, emotions seemed to disgust him almost. So I knew better than to try to push for an emotional response.

His other altar that came out last week was an older woman whom I believed was modeled after his mother, before his father left. She loved and accepted all of his altars and addressed them like they were her children. She called them all; even Sincere; her babies. I spoke to her on end about the things that were going on in Sincere's life, the changes that were happening and how he wouldn’t let himself emote enough to stop some of them.

He’d lost his girlfriend and his job because he didn’t want to express emotions. He came off to others as cold or even cruel oftentimes. The job didn’t matter, Sincere was rich. Despite being an orphan, until he was adopted by a very rich, white family. Knowing he was Trinidadian, they thought it would be a good look, socially, causing more trauma to an already very traumatized little boy.

They didn’t directly mistreat him. They just misunderstood him, which can arguably be worse, if you are a black child growing up in a white household, only because you are a black child you live a micro aggression.

Your whole entire life is racism and not even direct racism. It’s all indirect, causing you to be habitually unsure of yourself and uncomfortable, even when you are sure, you’re expecting people to lie about their intentions and hide how they really feel about you. It only made things for him much more difficult.

Sincere overcompensated for all of the insecurities, rejection anxieties, and abandonment issues by never allowing himself to feel anything. I wanted to speak to him about losing his job even though I knew he wouldn’t give me an emotional response. I still wanted to hear his version of events in his own words because, of course, his alter Mary; “the mother”; only told me bits and pieces. A choice I'm sure she made to try to protect his image.

She never wanted to embarrass Sincere, especially not to me, which I thought was interesting because I am his therapist and Sincere does not have feelings, not from what he’s expressed to me anyway. But she repeatedly assured me he was taking it well and that he was just tired from arguing with his girlfriend whom Mary wasn't allowed to speak to but hated with a passion.

I pulled up to my practice and hopped out, jogging up the stairs, before my door even closed all the way. I hit the car alarm and locks on my key fob as I opened the door. Angela was not there, and she still hadn’t replied to my texts. I was hoping she would be able to find me a plan b pill while I was in session.

She had to have come to unlock the office. Her car was there, and her coffee mug had a fresh lipstick print neatly planted on one side, a little bit too neatly. I pulled my mace out from my keys and backed into her desk space. We kept a gun in the file cabinet for emergencies. I was a therapist s**t happens! But the gun was not there!!!!

Call me paranoid, hell call me hyper-vigilant, but his ass wasn’t going anywhere, until I heard Angela’s voice. I knew how dangerous my clients were. Despite them all being upstanding members of society, they were all DEEP in psychosis. And he was the only one currently in crisis. He was also in denial according to his alters, which made him a danger to himself, those outside himself; including Angela, and even me; his now ex-girlfriend, his family, and even anyone he might call a friend. He was staying right here with me for the time being, and I had already texted Woodruff Pines police. I was in an emergency with a nonviolent but possibly dangerous and possibly armed schizophrenic!

We went into my office, of which I left the door open and I began his session.