“Annika,” I called out as I walked out of my bedroom and into the living room. I found three of the four on the couch, coveredin a blanket, faces flushed. “Oh, didn’t know we were having a party.”
“You can always join.” Annika giggled.
“Yeah, no. I don’t know how you do it. I’m sure all three of them have huge peens.”
Theo cocked a brow. “You wanna see?”
“No, thank you. Right now, I only prefer titties and pussy. And no, I don't wanna see Annika’s.” I laughed before wrapping my arms around my middle. “Uhm, do you know a good psychiatrist? One who won’t question why I don’t have an ID and will do payment plans?”
Annika leaned up, the blanket falling from her shoulders. “Uh, yeah—mine. She's pretty great and understanding. Do you want me to call her? I’m not sure about the whole ID thing, but she is really amazing.”
“Please. It’s been a week so I’ll be going back to work tonight. I need to start my healing journey. I can’t be bashing in the skulls of men because I get triggered.”
“Yeah. I’ll call her for you. I’ll see if she can see you tonight before we go in.”
“Thank you.” Annika smiled, moving the blanket off her and grabbing her phone off the side table before running into the kitchen.
My nerves were on edge, knowing I’d finally get to talk to someone. Talking about my childhood and my issues was something I rarely did. It was easier to bury them, but now, as an adult, they were festering. It was time to be an adult and take control again.
When Nathan died, I shut down. My older brother was my best friend and the light of our family; without him, we had nothing. For months, I refused to talk to anyone or hardly eat. The school made me go see the counselor, but it didn’t help. Theman said I was being dramatic at my age, and I’d get over it eventually.
Now that I was older, I knew keeping things bottled up until they exploded wouldn’t solve anything. Talking about my trauma, past and present, would help heal not only my inner child, but every aspect of me. I didn’t need to turn to liquor or other dangerous methods of coping to drown it out. I didn’t want to be like my parents because of it.
Annika walked back out. “She’ll see you today at five. Since we don't have to be at the club until eight, you can stay until seven if you want to. You’re naturally gorgeous, so you don’t need to take as long as I do to get ready.”
I looked at Theo who read my face, and he smacked her hard on her ass cheeks. “Thank you. I guess I’ll go get ready.”
I pickedat my fingernails while waiting for Dr. Natalie Williams. She was a psychiatrist who specialized in PTSD and childhood trauma, which was perfect for my fucked-up life. Annika swore she was one of the best on the West Coast, but I didn’t know much about therapy or the doctors who did it. There were certain people who had an undeniable charm and pull when it came to therapy.
When I arrived, they didn’t ask questions about my ID or insurance.
I avoided eye contact as she walked inside, her heels clicking against the tile before she sat in the chair in front of me, crossing her long legs. Her skirt bunched up against her thighs, and I couldn’t help the blush that hits my cheeks.I wasn’t fucking mytherapist. The idea was fun to spin around in my head, but it wasn’t something I’d do. Especially when I knew I needed to talk about my problems.
“How are you today, Kadence?”
I shrugged. “If I said I was okay, I’d be lying.”
She laughed gently as she grabbed her pen and opened her notepad. “And that is perfectly fine. It’s okay to not be okay, and even better when we can admit it. What emotions are you feeling right now?”
“Overwhelmed. It’s like everything that was piled on my shoulders finally collapsed, and I can’t breathe from the crushing weight.”
“Have you ever been to therapy before?”
“First time. Probably should’ve gone when I was younger or when I knew what therapy was.”
She clicked her pen, and that told me the heavy stuff was about to happen. “Why now? What made you decide to finally do it?”
I laughed bitterly. “More like what hasn’t.”
“I know the first visit can be very overwhelming. Start where you feel comfortable.”
Might as well dive right in. “My brother died in a drowning accident when I was six, causing my mom to abandon me and my father because she couldn’t deal with me. I was the devil child in her eyes. My dad buried himself in work, neglecting me and leaving me to cope on my own, but he was always quick to call me a disgrace. I started cutting to feel something other than numbness, and when I got old enough to know what sex was, I used it to cope instead of cutting myself to feel the emptiness my mother and father created.” The words flew from my mouth like word vomit.
“Did that make you feel better?”
“No. I used my body to feel something because my dad couldn’t give me an ounce of love. Nathan was the favorite. He died saving me.”
“Why do you think he was the favorite?”