Therapy part 2

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I grabbed a cigarette. Thinking this was one cool old guy. 

We started therapy at that little brown shack. 
'Emergency' it said on the door. 
'Crisis'. 
Yep. I fit it. 
I was ready to drive into a brick wall. Something, inside...a block to this end. 

I think he suspected then. Disassociative. No word. He would ask "Are you in there?" as I often fogged out. 
Sometimes..." That is odd..." "That doesn't sound like you..." 
Odd times I would find him staring at me looking shocked.

It was long ago now. 
I needed help and this man did what he could. 

He was good with me. 
No one knew about DID then. 
We didn't know we were multiple. 
I really didn't feel it unless I panicked and felt like I had a blackout. 

I was young. 
University was a huge step that had set me off. 

Working 3 jobs and saving to go had been the  pressure. 
I would also have been the first in my family to go. I felt that. 

We worked therapy for about 8 weeks when he passed me to a day treatment programme thru our hospital. 

I was terrified. 
I liked the brown shack. 
I liked the old guy. 
Yes, I still can see him and remember his name and details very well. 
He had become safe. 
I'd even given in to a hug. 
I thought we were good. 
Not great, but I really wasn't into an out patient thing. 

I just finished high school I didn't want to be going to 'class' at the hospital. 
I also had decided to work and take my university at night school. 

Again. I was overloading. He suggested as much. That first therapist. 


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