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A shrug was all I could manage, unable to think of a verbal answer.
“What has you so jumpy today? Jumpier than usual?”
There was no way I could talk about the guy in the waiting room. It was silly. He wasn’t the same person, plus, what if he was one of her patients? That would be weird and uncomfortable. Instead of talking about him, I opened with what had freaked me out earlier.
“I was running late,” I said. “Or, well, you know we had to change the appointment time. There was this whole festival downtown. It made it hard to get here. It’s thrown everything off.”
“Your patterns,” she said knowingly.
A quick nod of my head told her everything she needed to know. Tracing the outline of the infinity symbol on my watch, I counted to ten. The symbol helped ground me. My heart rate slowed a bit.
“It’s okay for things to not always go as planned. You use routine as a form of control. It’s something that you can have power over. Does that sound accurate?”
“I guess so,” I said, even though that was exactly what it was. Power was something I’d never had in my life. The idea of holding sway over something, even if it was as silly as what time I got to the grocery store, comforted me.
“What else? I feel like there’s more to it. You’re a bit more distant than usual. Surely a Memorial Day parade and festival can’t be all that upsetting?”
A tiny piece of flesh came off as I chewed at the inside of my cheek, filling my mouth with the coppery tang of blood. “My landlord is raising my rent. It’ll be almost three-hundred dollars more a month. I have no idea how I’ll pay for that. I’ll probably have to work doubles all the time. Maybe live on ramen and bologna and cheese sandwiches.”
Dr. Pope picked up her notepad and scribbled. “That doesn’t sound like a great situation. Have you thought of finding a cheaper apartment?”
A humorless chuckle burst from my mouth. “It’s literally the least expensive place in town. I keep an eye on the rentals for cheaper, but they don’t exist.”
“Okay, what about advertising for a roommate? Split the rent and utilities evenly. That way you’d actually end up saving money in the long run. Plus,” she raised an eyebrow, “you might make a new friend. Increase your circle.”
My nails dug into the faux leather of the armrests. Was she insane? Maybe she was the one who needed a therapist. My circle was plenty big enough: me, a few acquaintance coworkers, and Marie and Clint, the owners of the diner where I worked. The thought of it growing bigger was almost too much to face. My life was nothing but a series of new people who ended up doing terrible things to me. What if I got a roommate and she was a psycho? Wake up one night and she’s standing over my bed with a butcher knife? It would be par for the course. Maybe she was only acting like she wanted a roommate, but in reality, she and her mysterious boyfriend wanted to kidnap me and sell me into human trafficking. No. Absolutely not.
All of those thoughts should’ve been discussed with a therapist. Instead of voicing them like a good patient, I shrugged. “I guess I’ll think about it. It’s only a one bedroom, one bathroom though. Not a lot of room for anyone else.” Thank goodness. To calm myself after that fiasco of a suggestion, I traced an infinity symbol on my knee.
“Okay, fair enough.” She checked her notes. “The last time we spoke, you’d just broken up with your boyfriend. How are you coping with that? I know you hate change, and I want to make sure that situation isn’t causing some of this anxiety I’m seeing.”
Carlos? No. I didn’t want to talk about Carlos. That had been a mistake from the start. At first, it had been nice to have someone around. To feel protected, but as I should’ve predicted, things had soured fast. It had been like a self-fulfilling prophecy. No matter what I did, I tended to attract evil people. It’d been my curse since birth. Before birth, if I counted the sick fucks who had been my parents.
“It’s fine. Like any other break up, I guess.” I’d had very few romantic relationships and didn’t have much experience to go off of, but it seemed like a safe answer.
She looked at me over her glasses for several seconds. I knew this was a waste of money if I refused to talk about the things that festered deep in my mind, but for some reason, I couldn’t. Every now and then I was able to get something out, but it was hard. There were barriers that had been built over the years that were too hard to tear down. The look she gave me told me that she knew I wasn’t opening up fully.
On the other hand, it was her job to help me open up. I wasn’t the only failure here.
Dr. Pope folded her hands over her notepad. “A few weeks ago, we made a bit of a breakthrough. I’d like to discuss that a little more. See if we can dig into some healing. Would you like to talk about your little sister again?”
I looked at my watch. “Look. I’m glad you were able to fit me in, but I’ll be late for work. I’m going to need to cut this short.” I stood and wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans in case she wanted to shake. Hopefully not.
Dr. Pope raised her eyebrows, her expression worried. She tended to look that way around me. She stood too. “Dahlia, wait. We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. I’m only trying to help.”
Plastering a fake smile on my lips, I did my best to hide my true feelings. “No, no, it’s fine. I do need to get to work. Like I said, I need the money, especially if I’m going to keep paying for these sessions and my rent increase.”
“I get it, Dahlia, I really do. Hopefully, we can try to work through this a little more at our next session.”
“Sure. Yeah. Whatever.” I had my hand on the doorknob, so close to freedom.
“It’s like what my partners and I all say here. Tomorrow is a new day.”
That mantra, printed on their business cards and hung on a sign out in the waiting room, was trite and too vague to mean anything. At least not to me. A weary sadness filled me as I gave her a wan smile before striding out her door and down the hall. When I stepped out into the waiting room, I kept my gaze on the floor as I headed for the exit. Even though I stared at the carpet as I went, I couldn’t help but imagine that guy with the tattoos still sitting there. His eyes hungrily roving over my body as I went.
Once I got outside on the street, I bent over, gripped my knees, and took a few deep breaths. It helped. The warm summer air was thick with humidity, and a nice contrast to the cold, dry air inside. The office felt like a funeral home or hospital. Clinical, professional. It was all I could afford, state care on a sliding scale based on my income. It’d taken me over a year to get in. Cozy, comfy therapists with pillows and pastel walls were expensive.
Without looking back at the office, I walked toward the bus stop to get back to my place. I only had a few ride credits left on my account. Enough for three or four more bus rides. I’d have to save those. I didn’t know when I’d be able to afford more. Maybe I’d keep them until winter. In the summer, I could walk anywhere, but once it got cold, it was miserable to go more than a few blocks. If I could save any money at all, I’d move to a city in a warmer climate. Miami, maybe, or somewhere with low crime, if that place even existed.
