Despite having all the luxuries, no technology in this world has been developed to program human responding systems. That's where the problem lies. All the conflicts in human relationships, communications even the person itself is affected by this diverse phenomena of nature.
Life is by no means fair enough. Despite being in the same environment, consuming almost the same amount of oxygen, experiencing the same climate changes. Human beings are unable to develop uniformity in their behaviors. They have different coping mechanisms to handle the same situations. What would be the world, if all human beings exhibit an anticipated form of response. It would be boring, I guess.
And when this set of nerves gets exhausted by its own triggering either being over activated or exhaustion, or maybe sometimes a blend of both. He or she is said to be in need of help.
Help.
A simple word but is that easy to provide comfort to someone who is constantly on fight or flight mode. Maybe they seem normal but they are not. But it gets worse when only they know that they are in some kind of weird chaos, but can't put a finger on it to describe it verbally in words, in expressions. Like, to go to the doctor's clinic and tell them where it hurts, the intensity of pain and how they get that fracture. But the situation gets worse, when everything just – explodes. All the pieces that were holding together to form a creature that is called a human, falls apart. And you know what happens next? That person, who just wanted to talk to someone, who was just finding words to describe his state, who was just quiet because he thought no one would understand, or maybe he was too arrogant to think that he was ill and maybe he was at fault too, living all by himself. Abandoning his family and friends for his career. No matter what's the reason at that particular stage of explosion, he or she is called- just crazy. A small word, that makes all the reason behind the whole event, meaningless and irrelevant.
That's where I stand, making my living out of people who got messed in the process of living.
A therapist.
Often judged by people that I am just providing sympathy to someone and charging them for it, showing how the world has become materialistic that we can't even listen to each other without thinking about money. I usually have no comments about these types of remarks and as long as this is not meddling with my work I don't have to advocate my profession.
''How are you feeling today?''. I said, placing a glass of water in front of her.
''As crazy as I was last time '' she said, rolling her eyes.
''Catherine!'' her mother said, not in a totally yelling tone but it was loud enough that made her roll eyes once again.
I wanted to experiment with a joint session to study Catherine's relationship with her mother. Which I kind of guessed out of her annoyed look. Dressed in green T- shirt with a black wide legged jean, her sneakers were in multicolor. Her dressing was already telling me her mother was definitely not liking it. Emma was dressed in a green button up shirt with an emerald colored pencil skirt. It made sense because she is a working woman. Blonde hairs tied in a high bun, green eyes were enhanced with an eyeliner on her eyelids. They truly looked like mother and daughter.
''It's okay'' I stated, before going to my book shelf and bringing a notebook. I placed it in front of her and said:
''I have written some questions in them, you can write in this notebook whatever you want or how you are feeling. You can answer the questions if you want to or not. I will read them at our sessions.'
she wanted to scoff at this but she didn't, instead she just said '' okay''. of course in a very cold way.
There was a moment of silence, usually I give time to my clients to let them decide how they want to start it. But then I observed that her face was changing, her stern features were loosening when she said:
''Can we not do the session today?'' she said in an apologetic way.
Yes. a 180-degree twist of her personality, also she sounded like she was going to cry.
Her mother turned her head towards her daughter, as if she had two heads and was absolutely going to say something that I felt was not suitable. so I interrupted:
''It's okay, we'll reschedule it.'' And she stood up without wasting any time.
Her mother gave a resentful sigh and said ''Can I talk in private to you.''
''Of course'' I said.
she turned to me after Catherine was out of sight. " I think they are right, she is just acting up. "She lifted her head, stared at me with questioning eyes, " What's your diagnosis?"
"She is going through puberty." I declared.
she shook her head, sighed a little bit. She was exhausted. "That's what her school counselor said 'she is just going through puberty. she will be okay if we start ignoring her'."
She rephrased the most unprofessional remarks I have ever heard, she will be okay if we ignore her. I wanted to laugh.
"That's not what I said."
"But you literally just said the exact same thing. Ethan," she scoffed.
"Going through puberty is my diagnosis, but ignoring her is not my way of therapy or any therapy related to such a-delicate issue."
"Didn't you just see how she clearly changed. Her expression, everything changed. she is just creating a show"
"For God sake, Emma. She attempted suicide, more than once. you think she should be ignored." It would be a lie if I said I was not furious.
"Her father does not let her go to rehabilitation."
"That's not what she needs." I sighed in frustration.
"So what?" her eyes were more questioning than her words.
"She needs to feel normal. that she is okay, she is not sick, she is not crazy ", my voice was a bit calm now.
"She is a minor, Emma. I don't blame you. But you should have noticed when she started acting up. " I was clearly blaming her. A business lady. Running a real estate business, all by herself. Catherine's father and Emma were divorced and separated, since she was ten years old. But still Mark was fully involved in Catherine's life. He was the one who proposed this meeting and convinced her daughter. Didn't mean Emma was a careless mother. She had previously arranged many counseling sessions, support groups. But with that Catherine still tried to harm herself. Dealing with a messed up teenager is easy and difficult at the same time. They can heal themselves as fast as they hurt themselves, a theory my professor used to believe.
Her eyes were now staring at the ground.
"With her small mind, all the world she sees is hating her. Trying to give her reasons to hate herself. she doesn't need to be ignored. She doesn't need to be excluded to go to rehab. She is just a teenager and there is a life ahead for her. This would definitely not be good for her, to feel that even once in her life, she was not suitable for this society. it will haunt her for life."
No, this was not a new idea for her. somewhere in the back of her mind. She always found herself guilty. her child was drowning in front of her eyes. whole worlds telling she is crazy. This is not easy to deal with. Also being a single mother was itself a big burden on her. She was crying, silently and It made me think that she did get the point. I placed a tissue box in front of her. she started wiping her tears.
"I am the worst mother," she said in a chuckled voice.
"We will fix it, I promise." I shivered at my own words.
"What-" she sniffed, "What I have to do, specifically," she asked, she was calm now.
"Just act normal, listen to whatever she says. think like you're reading a book. And no matter how complex it is or how sad it seems it will have a happy ending. I know because I have read the book before." I was smiling, her eyebrows were wrinkled, her eyes were teary but they seemed to believe whatever I said. The weight of my own words was making me question myself.
"Thank you, Ethan." she said in a very low voice.