St Joseph's

ch. 5 it gets tricky in this ch.

 

 

       I couldn’t believe I was going to community college after all. Mom was serious about my not going to NYU, and I had no one to co-sign a student loan. Though working full time, I enrolled for more than 20 credits. I was incredibly determined to leave St Joseph’s within a year of being there, and nothing was going to hold her back.

       After about a month into the semester, I became depressed. It dawned on me that I wasted the last four years of her life. I was accelerated since before high school, taking more extensive courses than people my age. These advanced placement courses were supposed to enable me to get scholarships and certain acceptance into the Ivy League and tier-one universities. Getting in wasn’t the problem, money was. I’d never anticipated mom freaking out and refusing to let me go away to school. I stopped going to class. I stopped being Rhea. After about six weeks I withdrew from more than 70% of my classes. I alienated myself from everyone, including friends and family members. I hated mom for “ruining” me. Worried about my becoming victim to a psychological disorder, mom signed me up for therapy. It wasn’t the first time mother dearest had had to intervene in one of her children’s emotional battles; she had earlier practice with the oldest. Jess had attempted suicide at least five times during her adolescent years due to her long term battle with depression. I didn’t know about Jess’ condition since the family made it well and good that no one would know including immediate family members. One might wonder how such a bright eyed individual could become so depressed that a parent would have to intervene and make sure she doesn’t fall to the mercy of her mental state, but some things, though reasoned to the ends of the earth, may not make the sense an individual may attempt to get out of it.

       At first, I was skeptical about therapy, since I had no trust in people, especially mom. The first four sessions were a bust. No dialogue for the hour-long session mom forced me to attend. Dr. Gammond tried to coax me into speech, expressing the need to utilize this benefit I had.

“So Rhea, how are you feeling today?”

“I feel great actually.”

“Do you want to elaborate as to why you may feel so great today compared to other days?”

“Not really.”

“Your parents, especially your mother is worried about you; how do you feel about that?”

“Is it almost time for me to leave?”

“Rhea, these sessions are really for your own benefit. I understand your unwillingness to trust me or anyone for that matter as your confidant, however, talking does help, and anything you say here is held in the strictest confidence under the law. You see you don’t have to take my word for it. I’m actually mandated by law, to keep your private concerns strictly between these walls.”

“Do you have some legal contract I can look at to back that up?”

“Yes, I do, but why are you so unwilling to trust Rhea?”

“Can I see that contract?”

“Are you going to utilize these sessions for your benefit?”

“Look Doc, I don’t mean any disrespect but since I was seven, adults have often taken advantage of my naivety. I really just need to see that legal binding thing you say you have or all therapists have.”

Doc finally got me to open up, but I needed to solve my problems my way, without my mother’s intervention.

Author's Note

this chapter is short...but i feel like it has to be