Her (35 page)

Read Her Online

Authors: Felicia Johnson

BOOK: Her
10.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 35

 

 

 

I knew that there was something inside of me that I wanted to let go of and let die, so that I could move on with my life. I wanted my mother to see that I was not going to cause any more problems, and that I was going to be a good example for Nick and Alison.  I had my mind set to do everything I had to do to get out of Bent Creek and not let my family down.

During Morning Group the next day, I volunteered to speak first.

“My name is Kristen. I am in Group Two. Ms. Mosley is our group leader. Our group goal for the day is to respect our peers’ opinions in Groups today. And my personal goal for today is to talk more in my Groups.”

Dr. Finch looked amazed. He smiled and thanked me for volunteering to speak first.

“It seems like you are doing very well so far with your personal goal.”

I smiled, proud of myself. I knew I was doing what I had to do.

Daniel spoke next. “I’m Daniel. I’m in the same group as Kristen, so we have the same group goal. We have to respect each other’s opinions. My personal goal is to try to have a good family session today. This is the second try, so I really hope it goes well.”

 

I smiled at him, silently wishing him good luck. He smiled and winked at me before looking down at his shoelaces, but not touching them like he used to. I wished I knew how to wink back. But, if I had tried, Daniel probably would have thought I had gotten something caught in my eye.

I looked over at Janine. Dr. Finch wanted her to speak next. She was in our group, too, so she stated our group goal. Her personal goal was to find out what had happened to Dr. Cuvo. No one commented on that.  Dr. Finch seemed as if he wanted to say something to her, but he saw that she was angry and not like her usual self. He moved on to a more interesting piece of work.

“What do I have to say again?” Mena slouched back in her seat with her arms folded across her chest.

Her camouflage, hooded sweater was zipped up, and the hood was pulled over her head.

“Tell us your name, your group goal, and your personal goal for the day,” Dr. Finch told her patiently.

She sighed heavily. She seemed sad. “I’m Mena.” She looked up at Dr. Finch.

“Now, tell us your goals please, Mena,” he requested.

“Daniel already said our group goal, and I don’t have a personal goal.”

She rolled her eyes away from us. We were all staring at her because she was talking. She must not have liked everyone looking at her so intently.

“That is unacceptable,” Dr. Finch said. “Why don’t you sit there and think about how you can help improve your situation here. While you think about it, try to figure out what you need to do to accomplish it. Then you will have yourself a personal goal. Just remember, you don’t have to try to do it all in one day. You can take it step by step, and day by day. That is why we have personal goals every single day. This is to build us up and get us closer to accomplishing that bigger goal.”

“Yeah, the bigger goal. Getting the hell out of here,” Tai commented.

 

Everyone laughed, including Dr. Finch. Mena sat still with no expression on her face. She didn’t even look annoyed.

When we were finished laughing, Dr. Finch said, “We will come back to you, Mena.”

“Whatever,” she said.

Dr. Finch’s patience had apparently run out with Mena. He pointed towards the door and said, “Go to Ms. Mosley, right now.”

“For what?”

“Mena, get out!” he yelled at her.

Mena got up angrily. She shoved her chair back and made it hit the wall behind her. This caused a loud bang that made my ears ring. Janine and I shuddered. Dr. Finch seemed like a calm man, but Mena seemed to have pushed his buttons. She stormed out of the room, muttering curses at Dr. Finch.

I already didn’t like her.

After breakfast, Dr. Pelchat called me to his office. I sat down with a smile on my face. I was going to keep this up for as long as I could until I got out of here. I could lay it on as thick as believing could make it. He smiled back at me. He was buying it. His cherry, Santa-like cheeks squished under his tiny, blue eyes.

“Are you feeling better today?” he asked me.

I nodded. “Yes. Yesterday was kind of weird. But after that talk we had with my mother, I really feel like things are going to be okay.”

“I'm glad you feel that way,” he said. “You did very well.”

“I did? How?”

“When I left you and your mother alone, you took the time to open up to her, which is what I was hoping you would do,” he admitted.

I was dismayed. “Is that why you asked if my mother knew why I hurt myself?”

             

He sighed. “Yes. I wanted to open the communication up between you and your mother. You did very well, Kristen. I know it was hard, but you were very brave throughout the entire time.”

“I don't feel very brave.”

“I know, but you are. You'll see.”

I felt a pain go through my chest. “It helped, knowing that you were near the whole time. Even though it hurt to talk that much about what had happened, I feel like it helped. You were the first person I ever got a chance to talk to about it. It was hard, and I couldn’t stop crying, but if you and Mom hadn’t pushed, I may have never had a chance to talk to anyone.”

That much honesty hurt me inside.  It was hard to let out, but Dr. Pelchat didn't seem to mind.

Dr. Pelchat replied, “That’s what we need to do. We need you to open up more and talk about it.”

I nodded at him. Still nervous and feeling strange, I said, “It hurts, but I’m going to try.”

“Good. So, Kristen, did you get a chance to look at the book I loaned you?”

I thought back to the day he’d told me about Borderline Personality Disorder. I was too afraid. I did want to know about it. But…

“No,” I admitted, “not yet.”

“I recommend that you do. When you have time to yourself, you should read it.”

“I haven’t even taken the test yet,” I argued. My heart began to beat fast. “How do we even know if this is my diagnosis?” I tried to smile so that I wouldn’t seem too scared.

Dr. Pelchat sighed. He shook his head. “We don’t know for sure. Not yet. But I have seen a lot of warning signs for disorders dealing with psychosis. You, Kristen, have major signs of Borderline Personality Disorder.”

“What
exactly
am I doing?”

 

Almost yelling, I was giving away how scared I was. I couldn’t have this disorder. Not if I was supposed to be a good example for Nicky and Alison.

“Read the book, Kristen. Please.” He was sincere, and his eyes were very gentle.

I nodded, and promised to read the book. I had to read the book because I wanted to know what it was that I was doing that made me such an obvious candidate for this Borderline Personality Disorder. I needed to know so that I could fix it and not cause any more problems for my family.

“How are you sleeping at night?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I get to sleep, and I wake up sometimes. I guess it’s okay.”

“Do you feel different since we stopped the medication?”

“I feel...” I didn’t know how to answer these questions. Everything was mixed up, and I felt confused. I should have known how I was sleeping. I should have known if I felt different without the medicine. I just shook my head. I started to feel hopeless.

Dr. Pelchat looked up from my chart towards me. He stopped writing and put my chart on top of his desk.

“I know how hard this is for you,” he said. “You know, I had a pretty weird day yesterday. After your mother left, I went into the lunchroom to grab a bite to eat with Geoffrey. Well, he told me something that just completely blew my mind.”

“What did he say?” I asked.

“He said that he wanted to be a doctor, just like me. He wanted to go to medical school and really go all the way. He told me that he admired me, and that he looked up to me, like I was his father or something.”

Dr. Pelchat seemed amused and relaxed. He was smiling and happy.

             

I felt calm, and I smiled back at him. “He really does look up to you, Dr. Pelchat. He told me that one day when we were talking.”

“Really?” He seemed surprised. “I wouldn’t have known it if he hadn’t said it.”

I looked around and realized the sudden change of mood. The sun was shining through the blinds that hung over the wide, glass windows. The room was warm, and the tension lifted.

“I like this,” I admitted.

“What?” Dr. Pelchat asked.

“I like us having a conversation, instead of you asking me a million questions. It feels normal,” I said.

“What’s normal?” Dr. Pelchat asked.

I thought about that question before answering. I couldn’t come up with a single response that made sense.

“I don’t know,” I said with a giggle.

“Exactly. That’s why I don’t like normal,” Dr. Pelchat responded. “There’s no explanation for it.”

I laughed. “Well, that’s obvious, Dr. Pelchat. Look at where you work.”

He looked around as though shocked. And he put his hand to his chest, like I had offended him.

“What do you mean, Kristen? There is absolutely nothing wrong with anyone here. We are
all
normal in here. ”

We both laughed. I hadn’t laughed that hard in a while. When that moment between us had passed, Dr. Pelchat kept a calming smile on his face.

“Let’s try something, Kristen. Let’s try to have a ‘normal’ conversation.”

“What’s a normal conversation?”
             

“We will talk to each other. I ask a question, and you answer, and then you’ll ask me a question, and I’ll answer. We will just talk. What do you think?”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. It seemed different from my other sessions with him and from ones I’d had with Dr. Cuvo. I nodded at him.

“Why do you do what you do?” I asked first.

“Do you mean, why am I a psychiatrist?”

“Yes.”

“For the money,” he said.

Shocked, and in partial disbelief, I laughed.

“What’s so funny?” He looked so serious.

“Aren’t you supposed to say something like you had always wanted to help people since you were a child, or since you went through this when you were younger, you wanted to help people who are going through this, too? It just doesn’t seem...”

“It doesn’t seem like a ‘normal’ thing for a doctor to say, does it?” Dr. Pelchat asked.

“No,” I said. “It doesn’t.”

His smile appeared again. “I do want to help. That’s why I’m here,” he laughed.

“But the money isn’t bad, either.”

We laughed together.

“Where are you from?” Dr. Pelchat asked.

“I was born in California,” I told him. I suddenly started to miss California and our little apartment. I started to miss microwave-cooked hot dogs and cold cuts sandwiches.

“How did you get here?”

“My mom decided to get married, and Jack moved us here. Now we’re stuck in Atlanta.” Realizing that he had asked me two questions, and afraid that he was going to ask me more questions that would lead to something, I caught him before he could ask another question. “Where are
you
from?”

“I’m from here,” he said. “I was born and raised here. I went to college in New York, and I worked at Bellevue for about ten years.  Then I moved back here some years ago.”

“Why did you come back?” I asked.

“I came back to take care of my mother,” he told me. “I started working here at Bent Creek under Dr. Bent, who I’ve known since we were teenagers. She took a chance on a young kid like me.” He laughed at himself. “I can appreciate being here so much more than when I was working in New York. I’m home. I am passionate about our work here. Besides, I used to work with Alzheimer’s patients. Trust me, you kids are so much easier.”

He made a face that was supposed to be funny.

I wanted to laugh, but it made me uncomfortable. Was it okay to laugh about that?

His large hands moved across the desk, making me nervous. “Your mother said that you will be graduating high school soon.”

“Right,” I said with a sigh.

“Do you have any plans for what you would like to do after graduation?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I like to write. I don’t know. I’m not that good. I just write what I feel. I am passionate about writing. It’s the only thing I can’t stop doing, no matter how bad I am at it.”

“Then don’t stop,” he said.

I saw in his eyes that he really meant it. Perhaps he was feeling something at that moment. Maybe it was for Rocky. I didn’t know what to say next. Talking about the future made me feel sick inside. What could I ever do? What was I useful for? Dr. Pelchat was a good doctor. I’d just talked to him, we had a normal conversation, and he hadn’t even yelled or been frustrated. Not once.

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