Julia's Therapy Session

I explained to Dr.Von Brandt that I don't remember my mother very well. That I was so little when she died that by the time I was old enough to ask questions, all I knew of her smile came from the pictures that we carried from house to house.

"I see, and you have older siblings, right? How old were they when your mother died?"

"Calista would've been 11, Jacob was fully grown already, but I didn't grow up with him...to be honest, I'm still kinda figuring out how much damage she really did on him during his childhood."

"Interesting..." Dr.Von Brandt quickly scribbled something in the little notepad she held in her lap "So, while it's not necessarily my to draw conclusions as to how your sister was affected by your mother's upbringing, I am quite interested in hearing how you feel Calista was affected by your mother's death."

"Ah, we've only got half an hour left in this session. I'm positive we don't have time for that whole mess."

"Try me," she said with a smirk.

I told her how Mother's death really did a number on Calista. And how I can't really blame her for the vast majority of the insane bullshit, she pulled during her teen years (Ran away with a circus, successfully robbed a bank, got secretly married to a mystery woman in Rome, etc.)

"Knowing my father, whatever house we were in at the time was likely a place riddled with trauma-inducing behaviors." I explained, "Now, when you pile that mess on top of the mess created by our mother's death, you get what many of us would recognize as"

"A lot of weight for two children to carry on their own." She nodded understandingly, and I could see her really absorbing all the information I threw at her.

In all honesty, the whole idea of therapy always made me pretty uncomfortable (thanks, dad), but Dr. Von Brandt was seriously warping my mindset about the whole institution. Also, I would've finished that sentence with "a big fucking mess," but her thing felt more sincere than mine, so I chose not to stop the conversation to comment on that.

"If I'm being honest...she carried a lot more of that weight than I did, especially during the first few years after mom died."

"And why do you say that?"

"Well, I was born with an extremely rare degenerative disease that landed me a semi-permanent spot at Mary's Grace hospital on Empire Island." I paused for a second. In that moment, the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall became uncomfortably similar to the mechanical rhythmic clicks and beeps of the various machines that I found myself constantly surrounded by during my time in the hospital.

I steadied myself and continued, "So while Calista was bearing the brunt force of my father's manic descent into supervillain territory, I was mostly unconscious and sometimes dying."

Dr. Von Brandt scribbled furiously, unsuccessfully attempting to conceal the surprised look on her face as I nonchalantly mentioned the life-threatening, ultra-rare medical condition that hospitalized me for the majority of my childhood.

"Looking back on it, I'm sure that didn't help with my father's stress levels at the time," I paused once more, this time due to the several heartbreaking realizations I had as I spoke, "Which may have had a ripple effect of sorts that directly impacted my older sister..."

Unfortunately, this was my first time connecting those particular dots, and I, unlike Dr. Von Brandt, was severely caught off guard.

"Hmm…fascinating," I muttered as I pressed my steepled fingers to my pursed lips and gazed intensely at the floor. The carpets were horrendous, just in case you were wondering.

"Agreed." She added, taking note of my apparently visible internal spiral. "Well, that's certainly a lot to unpack, and we have very little time left in this session, so I'm thinking we start with that next week, and we close off today on a lighter note..."

She smirked mischievously, "Tell me about that concert you went to with Kyro."

God, it is curveball after curveball with this woman. I nervously cackled harder than I had in weeks (entirely involuntarily, I'd like to add) and then quickly leaned in towards Dr. Von Brandt. I've been entirely prepared to rip this boy apart with my therapist for 5 and a half days; my time had finally come.

"Okay, first of all," Her answer to this question had the potential to shatter my entire worldview, so I had to choose my words carefully if I wished to maintain my grip on this reality, "Is it or is it not inappropriate, and low-key disrespectful, to wear crocs to a Hozier concert?!"

THE END