My Thoughts

Three days in this place and I was finally scheduled to meet with my therapist.  My head ached from detox, and I panicked at every slight noise.  My fear about what would happen with my kids and my ex-husband guided every thought, every breath I took.  Even though this rehab looked like a cozy vacation spot, aesthetics could not quell the anxiety.  As I shuffled down the hall, I used an old mental trick - I replayed the ideal first date.  I imagined the well dressed man, slightly unshaven, waiting at the bar as I arrived a bit too late, me in a slinky black dress with red glossy pumps, the small handbag big enough only for a few condoms and gel and a small amount of cash.  I played out in my mind the music, the conversation, even the drinks I would order. All I knew about the therapist was the room number - 326.  I barely got through the first drink when I found the door and knocked lightly.  The sound broke my first date reverie, and I shift...

“My resentment flared again today - my resentment toward almost everyone, including my own children.  I am tired, and most days I just don’t know how I am going to get through all this.  I appreciate that I have housemates, seriously.  I couldn’t survive in my life right now without the physical and financial support of Sam and Ileana.  But that support comes with a price tag, and I am tired of paying it.   I am not sure what I really want in my life.  I thought once I knew.” The therapist makes a note and then slowly glances at Candace.  “Did you ever know what you wanted in your life?” “Of course,” scoffs Candace, irritated at the question. How many times have I said this before? “Then tell me what you once wanted.” Her irritation continuing to rise, Candace shifted in her seat and stared out of the window into the darkening sky.   How does she just not get it?, she thought.  As her mind began to drift to a scene created in...