Present Day
You’reabadbitch.You’regonna kick mental illness’ ass.You’re a bad bitch.You’re gonna kick mental illness’ ass.
I repeat Jay’s words of affirmation from today as I walk up to my new therapist’s office. I took the last hour of the day off to do this.
I’m nervous. I know a lot of my issues come down to control, and just admitting it in a professional sense scares me. It feels so… real. Official, if I say it aloud. And if I don’t say it, it’s not real, right? Jeez, how long will I keep telling myself this?
I push the door open and notice my hand shaking. I grip the door handle to the townhouse situated in the northern part of the city.I take the opportunity to shift my thoughts to the classic architectural details of this home. Classic Georgian architecture done well. Kept well. Wide, original trim and casings, white columns flanking the wide open entry way into the living room on my right.
“You must be Cora.”
The soft voice pulls me away from my design critique and I turn my head to look down the elegant hall to where the voice is coming from. A tall bohemian woman walks towards me, her long mustard yellow skirt flits between her legs. She might be wearing three or four necklaces and a white cotton blouse. Her long black hair has a white streak in the front that’s so striking, I have to wonder if it’s natural or not. She’s beautiful, looks to be in her mid-forties, and I already feel comfortable in her presence as she smiles and reaches out her hand.
“Yes. Hi. Cora Dalton.”
“Welcome, Cora. I’m Dr. Zenner. Would you like to follow me to my office?”
I nod. “Please. I’m sorry I just barged in here. I didn’t realize it was a home until just now.” I chuckle with a little embarrassment. “I just walked in.”
She turns to look at me as we walk, “Oh, don’t worry. It’s designed to look like a home. It’s all offices. There are a few other therapists that work out of here as well.” We come to a pair of ornate, double, wood doors and she leads me in. “Have a seat wherever you’d like.”
The room is essentially a large study. Tall, white wood shelves cover most of the walls except for the enormous marble fireplace at the center of the room. The walls are painted a lovely pale yellow and heavy mauve curtains are pushed open with flowing sheers between. I hang my coat on the rack near the door and take a seat in a soft green armchair with matching tassels that hang to the floor. Dr. Zenner takes a seat across from me and sets her notepad on a small side table next to her.
“Thank you for coming. The fact that you’re here today is no small feat. Whether I am your first therapist or not, you being here is a big step, and you should be proud.”
I’m a little taken aback. I think I expected her to start with something like, “Tell me about your childhood.” Not this. I feel seen already. How is that possible?
“Thank you. I am nervous. You’re my first therapist. I have some… cheerleaders in my corner that urged me to come.”
“And do you agree with them?”
“Yes. I’m here for me. For a better version of me that I hope exists.”
“Where would you like to start, Cora?”
For the next fifty minutes, I explain Violet. Theo. My dad and mom. How each one of them shaped me. The good and the bad. The joy and sorrow. How I can’t seem to shake what my miscarriage caused me. How it’s affecting my life.
When our time is up, I realize I haven’t even talked about Marco and Jay. Or the lawsuit. I find talking to Dr. Zenner to be easy and freeing. The words like a river, flowing over the occasional boulder, causing some errant tears.
What I explain barely scratches the surface of the festering wound that is my life, but it’s all I can manage at this point. Though I feel comfortable in her presence, Dr. Z is still mostly a stranger. I’ll have time to dig deeper later. I already booked her twice a week, hoping she and I would have a connection. I clearly placed a good bet because I’m happy with her thus far. When we walk to the front door together, I pull on my long, camel-colored dress coat. “I’ll see you Thursday, Doctor. Thank you.”
She holds the door open for me as I step out. “Thankyoufor coming, Cora,” and gives me a wave, her many rings reflecting the lights from the foyer.
When I turn to look down the stoop, Marco and Jay are walking up the sidewalk to meet me. Jay beams me that signature smile and gives a little shimmy shake to his shoulders. “Hey, baby.” He embraces me in the cold winter air and I feel his chest inflate beneath me.
Feeling Marco come from the side, I look up at him as he hugs the both of us. His big hand gently cups the back of my head as he leans in and kisses my forehead. “Everything go okay?” he murmurs. “Or at least, as good as can be expected?”
I sigh. “Yeah. As good as can be expected.”
Jay rubs his hands up and down my back. “How do you feel?”
“Drained.”
They slowly release me and we start heading towards the car parked a little ways down the road, each of them holding my hands. There are people passing us but I don’t feel even the tiniest bit worried about what the three of us look like. I’m proud of my little polycule. I’m simply relieved they’re here. They didn’t have to be, and I told them as much, but neither of them wanted to miss this. I’m glad because I needed this immediate connection. I feel supported and prioritized.
How did I swing this? How did my life go from that of being alone to having not one, but two partners who want to see me succeed, not just in my business, but my life? And in my journey to better mental health? Any second now I’m going to wake up and find this was all a dream, I just know it.
Come to think of it, I haven’t had one of those teeth-falling-out nightmares in a while now.
