I breathe out a shaky breath, my legs bounce, and my eyes flicker away from hers.
“Josie…” Her voice wavers. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“It’s fine. I’m trying to be open about how I feel.” But what I really want to do is hide. My skin prickles because there’s morethan one person who knows I’m a mess. That I don’t have my life together and I’m in shambles.
Monica stands and circles her desk, taking the seat next to me. I look at her, feeling perplexed. “I hate that you’ve been going through this, and that I might have made you uncomfortable by pushing this onto you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.”
“It’s fine, really. I just thought you should know.”
A tinge of sadness flares on her face. “I appreciate you opening up to me and letting me know. But you know, it’s not okay to think that’s okay. Don’t be afraid to open up because you’re worried about how people will perceive you. Your mental health is your priority; don’t let anyone else make you think otherwise. What can I do to help you?”
I stay quiet, unsure how to reply. I’ve never had this many people want to help me and be genuine about it. It’s both unnerving and a relief. I kind of feel like throwing up.
“There’s a therapist on campus, Jarvis,” she starts. “I know therapy sounds like a lot and may be overwhelming, but I promise she’s amazing. I understand how difficult it is to express yourself when maybe you’re unsure how, but if there’s anyone you’ll want to speak to, it’ll be her.”
“I looked. She’s pretty booked,” I admit.
“Do you want to talk to her?” There’s a look of determination in her eyes.
My heart rattles anxiously. “Yeah, I’d like to.”
“Okay, don’t worry about anything. I will get you an appointment with her.”
“No, you really don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.” She smiles at me, placing her hand over mine. “It’s no problem at all.”
It’s okay to accept help. Stop being so stubborn.“Okay, thank you.”
April 28th
“I don’t like Jarvis. I don’t like therapy. I don’t want to do it anymore.”
Pen’s lips twitch. “Don’t be like that. It’s good for you.”
“I know. It’s just…”
“I get it,” she says to fill the void of silence as we stand in front of the jellyfish. “It’s exhausting.”
It’s been a week since I spoke to Monica. She didn’t waste a second to get in contact with the therapist because that very same day, I spoke with Jarvis. She said she wanted to see me twice a week. Today’s the third time I’ve spoken to her, and just like last week, I’ve left feeling drained but also like a tiny rock—one of the millions—on my chest, has been taken off.
I don’t like her because she’s horrible but she asks questions, the kind that provokes me to feel so deeply. She’s all about identifying the cause, and to do that, we have to find the root. Meaning, I have to dig so fucking deep, it makes me want to rip my hair out. Not only do I have to talk about Mom and our relationship, but I also have to talk about Daniel, and just the mere thought of him makes me want to cry.
Then she pointed out what I didn’t understand or wanted to acknowledge. I’m depressed, struggling with depersonalization, understanding grief, have self-sabotaging tendencies, and what love means and is.
Needless to say, therapy is going…okay. I just don’t like the aftermath of it because I’m left thinking, feeling, wondering, and then I spiral a little. Which is why I’m at the aquarium.
I didn’t want to come. All I wanted to do was lay around and sleep off the exhaustion and not be with Pen. I appreciate her company, but being around her makes me think of Daniel. It’s not her fault she’s related to him, but it makes my chest ache.
I’m sure she knows how I feel, but she never addresses the elephant in the room and I’m thankful for that.
Despite my feelings, I needed to decompress and she knew that. That’s why she forced me out of my house and brought me to the aquarium to have dinner with Vienna. She’s working, not as a mermaid, but she’s doing something else. Her break won’t be for another hour, but we came now because I really needed it.
“Hey, I forgot my ChapStick in the car. I’ll be back. I won’t be long.”
“Okay. I’ll be here.”
I watch the jellyfish rhythmically and gracefully drift back and forth. I stare hard and long enough until my vision clouds and the colors inside the tank mesh together. But my brain doesn’t feel as muddled as my vision because my thoughts of Daniel come alive.
