Start on each other
Kategori: Stories about those who mattered
Berättelsen nedanför var något som jag började skriva på men som jag sedan bestämde mig för att inte fortsätta på. Tanken var att det skulle bli ett komplicerat patient-terapeut förhållande och det i slutet visade sig att både hon och han behövdes räddas. Cue the 'aaawwwsss'. Väldigt ostig romantik och massa sassy dialog! Tråkigt nog så blev det inget.. Kände ändå att jag ville publicera den dock, kanske ni själva kan fortsätta den i fantasin. Ge dem ett slut som jag inte kunde ge.
His assistant showed me into his office but the room was empty. There was no one here and it felt so bare and strange. I got instructions to sit on a sofa and wait for the doctor to enter, even this felt strange. I had been to a therapist before and I still didn't think I needed one. My mothers friend had recommended this particular practice and my mother fell for it quickly. She thought that what I was "suffering" from was something that could be fixed by talking, but she didn't want to listen. So she sent me to a therapist, well to several actually. I knew very little about who I was meeting that day but I knew he was young, for a therapist at least, and that he had a strange way of curing his patients. When I had been sitting in the room for about a minute the door opened once more and a young man stepped in. Well, I say young but he was at least five years older than me. He sat down by the desk and looked through some papers before slowly looking up at me.
"Good morning." He nodded and I mumbled a reply. Not really feeling like giving this therapy thing a change I simply leaned back and waited for this to be over. "So your mother sent you here?"
"She forced me here. There is no other way of saying that." My eyes rested within his gaze and he simply nodded.
"What does she think you will achieve by coming here?" I shrugged my shoulders and took a deep breath.
"She thinks I need curing. So by all means..." I lifted my hand and gestured towards my body. "Cure me." He nodded once more and it started to annoy me.
"Do you think you need to be cured?" I shook my head and averted my eyes from his.
"I might be fucked up but I ain't sick." He scribbled something down on his paper and then looked back at me.
"Then what do you want our time to give you?" His tone was so annoyingly calm and his gaze so firm.
"I want the world to love me as I am. Instead of trying to fix something that isn't broken." When my mother had told me she had booked an appointment for me I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd go. But here I was, actually talking to someone, not for the first time I might add, about some kind of problem that I kind of had.
"You don't seem broken to me." His statement caught me by surprise but then I realized this might be his special treatment.
"Well first of all, I'm not broken I'm just weird. And second of all you are paid to say that. I don't mean broken on the inside either. People nowadays think that because you don't look like the norm then you must be broken, and what's broken must be fixed." I think I saw some surprise behind his eyes but it quickly disappeared and his blank stare was back. He nodded as if he was thinking about what I said and then scribbled something down on his paper.
"What is it about you that doesn't look like the norm?" I accidentally let out a snort laugh and stared at him.
"You're kidding me right?" He kept his gaze steady but didn't respond. I lost my patience. "I'm fat, mister know it all. Society doesn't want people to be confident about your 40 extra kilograms." I motioned to my body as I spoke and his gaze followed my hands. I think this was the first time he had actually looked at my body. This entire time he had been focusing on my eyes. It seemed like he couldn't take his eyes away from it now that he had seen it.
"Do you think no one finds you attractive?" I snorted once more and crossed my arms as I stared back at him.
"Can I ask you a question?" His eyes found mine and he looked a little weary. "Oh come on doc. Satisfy your clients needs."
"Alright." His voice sounded unsure but he smiled towards me. "One question." I smiled back and tried to think of a thin girl in his office. I remembered his secretary was rather good looking and fit so I used her as an example.
"If you saw me and you secretary out in a bar, let say for fun that you don't know her. Would you come up to me and flirt, or would you flirt with her or someone like her?" He was about to speak when he stopped himself. His words wouldn't come out and I knew why. "I'm guessing you trying to think of a way out of that question. Maybe something in the sorts of 'I would flirt with you because I know you' or some bullshit like that."
"Don't put words in my mouth."
"Why not doc? You do it so well." I paused and looked at him with an angry gaze. "Well then, what would you do in that situation?" I gave him a fighting chance.
"I don't know. You can't just ask that. I would act differently if I had alcohol in my system. I can't answer a question like that."
"Thank you." He looked at me confused and as I stood up I explained my thank you. "You practically told me exactly what everyone else tells me, that I am ugly and fat. So thanks for that." I began walking towards the door and stopped just as my hand met the door handle. "Oh and one more thing. Will you tell my mother that you cured me the best way you could? That way I won't have to embarrass you again and you don't have to deal with me again. Win win for everyone." I nodded towards him, lifted off my fake hat and walked out of the office. No one could quite figure out how I worked fast enough. Seven therapists later and I wasn't a single step closer to being 'cured'. No wonder my mother was tired of me.
"Good morning." He nodded and I mumbled a reply. Not really feeling like giving this therapy thing a change I simply leaned back and waited for this to be over. "So your mother sent you here?"
"She forced me here. There is no other way of saying that." My eyes rested within his gaze and he simply nodded.
"What does she think you will achieve by coming here?" I shrugged my shoulders and took a deep breath.
"She thinks I need curing. So by all means..." I lifted my hand and gestured towards my body. "Cure me." He nodded once more and it started to annoy me.
"Do you think you need to be cured?" I shook my head and averted my eyes from his.
"I might be fucked up but I ain't sick." He scribbled something down on his paper and then looked back at me.
"Then what do you want our time to give you?" His tone was so annoyingly calm and his gaze so firm.
"I want the world to love me as I am. Instead of trying to fix something that isn't broken." When my mother had told me she had booked an appointment for me I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd go. But here I was, actually talking to someone, not for the first time I might add, about some kind of problem that I kind of had.
"You don't seem broken to me." His statement caught me by surprise but then I realized this might be his special treatment.
"Well first of all, I'm not broken I'm just weird. And second of all you are paid to say that. I don't mean broken on the inside either. People nowadays think that because you don't look like the norm then you must be broken, and what's broken must be fixed." I think I saw some surprise behind his eyes but it quickly disappeared and his blank stare was back. He nodded as if he was thinking about what I said and then scribbled something down on his paper.
"What is it about you that doesn't look like the norm?" I accidentally let out a snort laugh and stared at him.
"You're kidding me right?" He kept his gaze steady but didn't respond. I lost my patience. "I'm fat, mister know it all. Society doesn't want people to be confident about your 40 extra kilograms." I motioned to my body as I spoke and his gaze followed my hands. I think this was the first time he had actually looked at my body. This entire time he had been focusing on my eyes. It seemed like he couldn't take his eyes away from it now that he had seen it.
"Do you think no one finds you attractive?" I snorted once more and crossed my arms as I stared back at him.
"Can I ask you a question?" His eyes found mine and he looked a little weary. "Oh come on doc. Satisfy your clients needs."
"Alright." His voice sounded unsure but he smiled towards me. "One question." I smiled back and tried to think of a thin girl in his office. I remembered his secretary was rather good looking and fit so I used her as an example.
"If you saw me and you secretary out in a bar, let say for fun that you don't know her. Would you come up to me and flirt, or would you flirt with her or someone like her?" He was about to speak when he stopped himself. His words wouldn't come out and I knew why. "I'm guessing you trying to think of a way out of that question. Maybe something in the sorts of 'I would flirt with you because I know you' or some bullshit like that."
"Don't put words in my mouth."
"Why not doc? You do it so well." I paused and looked at him with an angry gaze. "Well then, what would you do in that situation?" I gave him a fighting chance.
"I don't know. You can't just ask that. I would act differently if I had alcohol in my system. I can't answer a question like that."
"Thank you." He looked at me confused and as I stood up I explained my thank you. "You practically told me exactly what everyone else tells me, that I am ugly and fat. So thanks for that." I began walking towards the door and stopped just as my hand met the door handle. "Oh and one more thing. Will you tell my mother that you cured me the best way you could? That way I won't have to embarrass you again and you don't have to deal with me again. Win win for everyone." I nodded towards him, lifted off my fake hat and walked out of the office. No one could quite figure out how I worked fast enough. Seven therapists later and I wasn't a single step closer to being 'cured'. No wonder my mother was tired of me.
