She sits outside her psychiatrist’s office while he’s on the phone. He didn’t close his door and she can hear him speaking.
He’s talking about you. He’s saying you don’t have the resilience, that you might never get over the self-esteem issue. They think you’re hopeless. They’re right.
She starts panicking. She wants to leave; to say the hell with it and never come back. Instead she goes inside. He barely lets her speak.
“You’ve been seeing therapists, counselors, doctors and you’ve been in treatment for 5 months, but it doesn’t seem to be helping you. Nothing is getting much better. You are on this emotional roller coaster and you never seem to be able to be okay for any significant stretch of time. You’re either not eating or bingeing and you have these really low lows.”
Thoughts start rushing through her head, “I knew he didn’t want to treat me anymore. He is giving up on me. No one wants to help me. I don’t listen to them. I’m not getting better like they want me to. I want to just go away.”
“It’s like you’re not getting the support you need. You need something more along the lines of a crisis intervention team, or a day program. In addition, your counselor and I will be away most of the summer. You’re going to need something more concrete. I would like to call your counselor, talk to my colleagues here and speak with your therapist at the treatment center within the next two days and figure out what will happen as we move forward … if that’s okay with you.”
She doesn’t even know if he’s asking a question. It seems as though he’s made up his mind for the both of them. He decided what she’s going to do without even asking her. She sits there confused, anxious and sad. She is back to where she was. Not eating and being bossed around. No one asking what she wanted, how she felt, or what was wrong. She didn’t even get the chance to say anything. How could they just keep taking things from her? Making plans and assuming they knew what was best for her?
“I guess I can’t even make my own decisions anymore,” she whispers.
this is my picturee! i took it in photography earlier this year! wth!
Sometimes they’re too much.
— John Boyne, The Absolutist (via daylight-dreams)