“Then…” Dr. Todd prompted. I blew out a breath, and pushed my hair out of my face. I forced myself to make eye contact with the man who waited expectantly for my answer. There was no judgment there, no disappointment that I had relapsed. Only patience and understanding. Damn this guy was good.
“And then I felt horrible about it. Mad at myself, you know?” I started to bounce my knees up and down. I was agitated and edgy. I had already gnawed the skin off around my fingers and had begun to pick at the hole in my jeans.
“Good,” Dr. Todd said forcefully. I blinked at him in surprise. Huh? Had he just said it was good that I felt like shit? That didn’t seem right.
“Excuse me?” I said a little angrily. Dr. Todd leaned forward, his eyes intense as he looked at me.
“I said good. I’m glad you felt like crap. That you were mad at yourself.” I opened my mouth to say something that would have definitely been dickish but Dr. Todd kept going. “Because if you’re feeling horrible about it, then you’re not feeling good because you did it. Yes, you felt the euphoria at first, but the fact that you started to feel the shame and guilt afterward proves that you are starting to rework the way your brain responds to the pain. That it’s not the escape it used to be. You’ve reframed your feelings about cutting and that’s a huge step, Clay.” Dr. Todd smiled and I sat there sort of dumb struck.
“But it doesn’t change the fact that I cut. That I felt like cutting after talking to…” I stopped, realizing that I had yet to come clean about my late night phone call last night.
Dr. Todd narrowed his eyes. “You called Maggie,” he stated. I nodded. No sense in denying it. So I waited for the expected chastising. The millions of reasons why it was a bad idea to contact her. If she drives me to cut, I wasn’t ready to communicate with her yet. Blah, blah, blah.
But damned if the good doc didn’t surprise me once again.
“I’m glad.” My mouth dropped open. I was extremely confused by this turn in things. Dr. Todd chuckled at my reaction. “I’m not going to berate you, Clay. I think you need to learn to face obstacles, not avoid them. You’ve been dealing with a lot of complicated emotions when it comes to Maggie. And for the first time, I feel like you’re really taking charge of your life. You’re finding your control.”
“Uh, but I cut myself afterwards. Isn’t that…I don’t know, counterproductive or something?” I was looking for the punch line. The “Just kidding, you’re a royal screw up.” But it didn’t come.
Dr. Todd picked up his notepad and pen and started writing. “Yes, you did. And you had a right to feel the anger, the hurt, the pain. Those emotions are okay because they’re yours. You don’t have to explain to anyone, let alone me, why you feel the way you do. And you met those feelings head on, Clay. In the past you attempted to avoid any and all situations that elicited a strong emotional response from you. But you went head first into something that you knew would be hard for you. That takes courage. And you should be proud of the fact that you fought hard to not let your fear stop you from doing something you knew that you needed to do.” Dr. Todd put the pen down and looked at me again. “It’s important for you to try and not focus on the act of cutting, instead look at the way you were feeling. Identify the triggers and figure out an alternate response. Let’s review your self-harm plan and see if there’s anything you could change or add.”
We spent the next ten minutes going over the plan we had devised together in my first week of treatment. It outlined ways for me to cope that didn’t involve self-harming behaviors. Okay, so I had been a bit of a shit when I had first written it. Because there was no way in hell I’d “pick flowers” or “hum a Mamas and Papas song.” I was also pretty sure that Dr. Todd knew I had been mocking the whole process when we had compiled the list. Because he wouldn’t let me take things away, only add to it. It was damn embarrassing to see some of the crap I had put down because I was being an oppositional jack ass. But I guess that was the reason I couldn’t remove them. Touché Dr. Todd. Touché.
“Thanks, Doc,” I said sincerely, realizing we were at the end of our session. I picked up my journal and headed for the door. Dr. Todd followed me out. He clasped my shoulder, a first for him.
“I’m proud of you, Clay.” And the validation was something I needed so desperately that I could have cried with the relief of it. I nodded my head and tucked my journal under my arm as I headed back to my room, feeling like things were clicking into place. Just the way they should be.
Chapter Seven
-Maggie-
I sat on the cold ground stretching out my legs, bending low over my knees until I could touch my skin with my nose. Maybe I was weird but I loved to feel the burn in the back of my calves and thighs as my muscles were pulled taut. The late March afternoon was uncharacteristically cold. I could see my air puffing out in front of my lips as I tried to loosen up my body for track practice.
“Hey, Mags!” I looked up to see Daniel and the rest of the soccer team heading into the gym for their conditioning. I gave my friend a distracted wave as I got to my feet. I leaned down between my legs, resting my palms flat on the track surface and counted to ten before raising my arms up over my head.
“Need any help?” Jake stopped in front of me, giving his signature flirty grin. I cocked an eyebrow but didn’t respond. “I can get you to stretch muscles you didn’t even know you had,” he teased and I snorted.
“Please save your witty charm for someone it will actually work on.” I shot him a pointed look and reached down to get my water bottle. Jake laughed. He was never put off by my abrasive attitude. I wasn’t sure if that was comforting or just really obnoxious.
Jake came up beside me and took the bottle out of my hand and put it to his lips, taking a drink. He really had a problem with personal boundaries. Eating my food, drinking from my bottle, it was a habit I needed to break. Before I started breaking other things. Like his knee caps. “You wound me, Maggie,” Jake teased, clutching his shirt over his heart.
I didn’t bother to say anything, knowing that if I encouraged him he’d never stop and I had to start my training. There were some days I enjoyed the playful banter but today wasn’t one of them. I’d been in a horrible mood since last week.
Well, since Clay’s out of the blue phone call to be exact. I still couldn’t believe he had actually called me after all this time. Though wasn’t that what I was hoping would happen when I gave Ruby the present? Didn’t I want that to illicit a response from him in some way?