Gabriella
Three years ago
Knock, knock, knock.
I stop reading. “Hi, Lisa.”
She puts her clipboard against her chest and holds it tight. “Are you ready for your session?”
“Yes.” I get off my bed.
My roommate Cori rolls her eyes at me. “Good luck talking to the devil.”
“Cori, do you need to review the rules again?” Lisa rebukes her.
Cori grunts. “It was just a joke.”
“Next time, you’ll be evaluated for hallucinations,” Lisa warns her.
Please tell me I’m good enough to go home. I can’t stand another night sleeping next to crazy girl.
“Are we going to your office or outside?”
She smiles. “It’s a nice day. Would you like to take our session outside?”
“That would be nice. Thanks.”
She leads me down the sterile, white hallway brightly lit with fluorescent lights and through the exit to the back of the building. When she opens the door, the sunlight and warmth of outdoors hits me.
Now I can breathe.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Lisa asks.
“Perfect weather.” The April air isn’t humid, and there are no clouds in the sky.
We sit at the picnic table, and Lisa puts her clipboard down.
“How are you feeling since our last session, Gabriella?”
“Good. I think I’m ready to go home.”
Please let me.
Lisa peers at me through her pink eyeglasses for a moment. “Have you been doing your meditation?”
“Yes. Three times a day, like you instructed me.”
“And what are you saying in your meditation?”
“It’s not my fault Mia or Clay is dead. It is not my fault Beckett is in prison.”
She writes something down. “That’s good, Gabriella. Anything else?”
I shift in my seat. “It’s my right to set boundaries. I will not allow myself to be used or afraid to walk away. It is my choice who I am friends with. If a guy cannot stand up to my brothers, then I don’t want or need them in my life, and especially not in secret.”
She tilts her head. “How do you feel when you tell yourself that?”
“It’s getting easier to say.”
She pats my hand. “That’s a very good, honest answer. If you said anything else, I would think you were lying to me.”
I blow out a breath of air.
“You’ve been off your medications for several days now. Any bad thoughts popping up?”
“No. I feel good. I’m ready to go back to normal life. Can I please go home?”
A sympathetic expression appears. “I know you want to go home, but you were in very bad shape when you came in here. The last time we released you, within two months another incident occurred.”
Another incident.
“It isn’t going to happen ever again. I have it under control now. I promise I won’t try to hurt myself anymore. My brother’s visitation is next week, and I need to see him. It’s his birthday, and I don’t want to miss it.”
“Seeing Beckett in prison is what started your episodes. Do you think it’s a good idea to put yourself in that position again?”
Stay calm. Don’t cry or get angry, or she’ll keep you here longer.
“Lisa, I have it under control. I know hurting myself isn’t the answer. I’m doing my daily meditations, making sure I eat, exercise, and sleep. I am not scared to set boundaries or walk away from men or other relationships that are not serving me.”
“That’s good you’re doing that, and you should continue.”
“My brother is a part of my life. Part of my therapy is learning to cope with the good and the bad. I am stronger and will do my exercises as soon as I get out of the building and into the car.”
She writes some things on the paper attached to the clipboard. “What about Tyler? He visited you a few days ago?”
“I told him we’re done.”
“What does that mean to you?”
Seriously. I have to go through this again?
“No contact. No sneaking off with him behind my family’s back. Not being used by him.”
“And why have you set those boundaries?”
“If a man can’t be honest with my brothers about dating me, then they don’t deserve me.”
“That’s correct. And why is that?”
“I am worth more.”
“That’s right.” She studies the clipboard and holds up a page to read the one beneath it. “And Ryland and Hudson both visited you yesterday? You had a family counseling session?”
Just read the notes, it’s all in front of you.
“Yes.”
“How did that go?”
“Fine. They agreed to stop threatening my dates.”
Not that I believe they will.
She marks something on the paper.
Please tell me I can go home.
“What about making friends? Have you thought any more about forming some new friendships or trying to rekindle some old ones?”
Just tell her what she wants to hear.
“Yes. I will work on that.”
“And why is that important?”
“Because I am a good friend. It was not my fault Mia died. I didn’t force her to go to the bonfire, and I didn’t put the bullet in her. Sometimes bad things happen. We can’t control them, but that doesn’t make me a bad friend.”
“And what does everyone need?”
“At least a handful of good friends.”
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
“It’s part of life.”
She checks some more boxes on her sheet.
“Are you going to let me go home?” I ask her.
She taps her pen on the table. “Let’s review boyfriend boundaries again.”
“I’m good. I understand.”
“Humor me. Tell me again what the boundaries are.”
“My health comes first. If a man can’t be honest with my family about seeing me, then he isn’t worthy of being my man. I don’t owe any of them my friendship. It’s my decision whether to be friends with them before, during, or after any sort of dating relationship. I can walk away at any time and do not need to feel guilty about it. Clear communication is the key. Removing myself from uncomfortable situations where I feel my health may be compromised is allowed and essential.”
“Excellent. Now tell me, Gabriella, do you believe all that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I just told you why.”
“No, you told me the boundaries. Why are these boundaries important?”
“So I don’t get used by men or go back down the black hole.”
“And?”
“Because I am worth more.”
“Yes. Good.”
“One more thing you forgot.”
Oh no. What did I forget? Please don’t keep me here longer.
I stare at her in question.
“If a man can’t stand up for you, then?”
“He’s not a man. He’s a boy. When I’m ready for a relationship, I want a man, not a boy.”
“That’s right. Now tell me about your sleep. Have you had any more nightmares?”
Yes, almost nightly.
“No.”
She squints at me. “Not at all?”
“No,” I sternly lie.
“Hmm.”
Great. She knows I’m lying.
“I really do feel prepared to handle reality again. Can I please go home? I promise I won’t be coming back again.”
You aren’t. Get your shit together and keep it together this time, Gabriella.
She puts her pen down. I try not to squirm in my chair or break her gaze.
Minutes of silence pass.
“I really am ready,” I quietly tell her.
She nods in small bobs. My adrenaline races, thinking she’s going to let me go home.
“You’re definitely doing better. I’d like to see you continue your progress over the next few weeks since we’ve taken you off all the medications.”
No, no, no!
“A few weeks?”
“Yes.”
“Honestly, I’m all better.”
She pats my hand. “You’re only twenty-one. You have your entire life to live. A few more weeks should only be beneficial for you to continue developing your coping skills.”
Against my wishes, a tear falls down my cheek. “I’m going to miss Beckett’s birthday. Please release me. If I don’t go, I won’t be able to see him for another month.”
“Beckett will have more birthdays. Your health needs to be your priority. Now let’s review how to have conversations with men on setting boundaries.”