A Clinet
The psychologist threw himself into bed after another tiring day. The excitement of tomorrow, which comes from the love of work, did not fade in him again.
He woke up with a new day, and with a never-ending smile on his face, he went to the office again. He looks at the new consultants.
On the phone call from his secretary, a woman with a wonderful smile came in. He bowed respectfully and sat down, both facing each other. The woman warmed to each other, probably due to the blood-warming approach of the psychologist.
"How are you?"
The woman, without telling the lie that everyone often tells:
"I'm here to be good," she said.
"You can introduce yourself to me."
" I'm Melody. I'm 26 years old. I'm a doctor who lives alone. Today I wanted to take a step for myself, doctor. Years later, I'm in the same place again. - The psychologist continued to listen respectfully, thinking that it was a good opportunity to get to know him that he had received support before- I myself my life I felt incomplete all along. For an unknown reason, I was constantly surrounded by urge. I'm here today with the intention that maybe I'll understand what's going on after years. The psychologist listened to the woman's speech with admiration - she couldn't wait to meet a person who could express herself so well.
"Why did you choose to live alone?"
"Actually, it was a necessity rather than a choice for me, Doctor. My mother has not been with me since I was little. My father never had a daughter.
Sometimes I used to think doctor
'I wonder if the source of my impulse is my family'. But the questions always remained unanswered for me."
As the female psychologist looked, she felt a tender attraction.
"I'm sorry about that. I was even a little surprised at how she has a wonderful smile that never fades." They both laughed sweetly.
"The first step you take for yourself is halfway to success."
Maybe it's really because of these Melody. I'm sure we'll figure it out together. Tell me a little bit about the tension inside you. What is it, how long has she been there?"
The woman thought for a long time, looking at the psychologist's face. Because as she looked at him, she felt like she was getting strength from him.
" I don't know." She said. It was as if there was much more than the absence of her parents. What was the reason? Was it a lot or just one thing? Both the psychologist and the woman were silent. Neither the psychologist could ask questions to the woman, nor the woman was able to combine and describe the storm inside her.
"How have you survived to this day? Did you tell anyone what was inside, or was it just yourself?"
The psychologist suddenly shuddered at the question he had asked, thinking that it had allowed the woman to become more confused.
But the woman fearlessly replied:
"I have been writing since my childhood. I used to write myself, my father and sometimes my mother. Most of all, I used to combine the three of us and write like that. When I was at school, I went to primary school four. It was the painting lesson, I loved the painting lesson the most. I was excited like every lesson. The teacher came in, each time again. she used to look at me when she first entered the class, as usual. -The woman's eyes were slowly starting to water-She sat down at her desk, I immediately asked:
"Sir, what are we going to draw today?"
He asked us to draw a picture of our family and describe the family members. Everyone seemed to be flying in the air with excitement. rose said:
'I will draw my mother picking flowers in the plain, and my father and me flying kites with my mother. My mother has blue eyes and brown hair. My father plays the guitar for me every day..." The more he told me, the more I listened to him, I dreamed of my absent mother and father, As he said it, I would put myself in his place. Finally, he asked me:
"Well you Melody, how are you going to do it?
I will draw my picture with my mother. Who will you draw with? “I stopped for a moment. I didn't think about anything.
It was as if I was trembling. A place in my heart was missing. I didn't understand at that moment. Class is over and I'm back home. My father was not there as usual, this time I put my bag on the floor where I always put it, next to the seat, as soon as I unlocked the door, I threw it on the floor. I sat on the chair. I was thinking what to draw. Would my father be with me in the picture, or would my mother be with me? That day, that day, I was only thinking about the picture I would draw and who I would tell. I - the woman's first tear shed - had never seen my mother. I didn't know I had blue eyes. I didn't know what color my mother's hair was. What did my father like besides drink? Would he have played the guitar? Or would we ever have a home on the plain? I shed my first tears because of them that day, my doctor father would come to dinner until 7:00pm every evening and then leave. That day, I cried until 7 am, doctor. Non-stop until 7. 00 pmFor the first time that day, my eyes were swollen from crying. My father, who is a little over 7.00 pm, came back with a ready-made pasta with fish in his hand. Every time my father came with a bag in his hand, I would run and hug my father. I didn't hug that day, doctor, for the first time that day, my father didn't hug me. While we were at dinner, I asked my father:
"Dad, today the teacher asked us to draw you and my mom. What color are my mother's eyes, is my mother's hair brown, father ...- I couldn't stand it, I was crying, I continued forcefully-. - the woman was crying with great pain - what do you like, father? For example, do you play the guitar?' My father was crying, it was the first time I saw him cry. first time . He got up quickly, opened the door and ran quickly, he ran, he ran as he ran, I said, 'Dad, don't go, daddy, please tell me. Please don't go, dad..." I sat on the chair again and cried until morning. I watched the sun rise from the window for the first time that day. After that day, I didn't like the painting class, doctor.
loneliness surrounds me again
Dreams burned me again tonight. the stars made me cry again. Your memories took me to the sky, father. Everything forgotten will surely be remembered one day. You reminded me of yourself again today with your anger. You did what my mother did, you made me live for the first time. You always left me. You left me every day. When he's with me, he thinks he's happy..but until I understand your grief, that is, me. don't be sad dad, you used to say "this too shall pass", I understood that it is not over anymore. maybe it's your turn." . The woman suddenly thought of a doctor, "or if he or she let me down, he believes that I can't do it too. If he finishes me and throws me into the void..." And he was afraid again with many crazy questions. .as if he couldn't do it, he was afraid he wouldn't succeed. The doctor thought for a long time after the woman left. He didn't want to lose her. He didn't want to lose her. He also wanted to send her to another place. As if he was going to find something in her. As if he would find what he gave. Endless thoughts while on the way home after workload he was again united with the love of work.He thought of the woman:
' People overflow as they take their burdens in life . Sometimes they don't have either his mother or father who can share these burdens, nor friends with whom they can understand him. While telling, the woman cannot get out of that mess. Who knows what that woman wrote, who knows what burdens she was compelled to share in her notebook.
"It is not possible to live without sadness, Oric ... How could you have known that the first wound will not be healed again ... The first storm will never end again ... Oric, who knew that what was always the first can suddenly change anything ..."
Oguz Atay
After finishing the first session, it was now the turn of the second session. The woman entered that room again with the same wonderful smile and attractive beauty. As if nothing ever happened. Memories like never before. He sat down slowly. The psychologist asked:
" How are you today?"
"I don't know, doctor. I don't know." She said helplessly. The psychologist did not push any further.
"How did you feel after the session?"
"For the first time, I trusted someone and told parts of my life. I don't regret it. But there is still a gap, doctor, it doesn't close."
Doctor:
"It's perfectly normal, we can't expect immediate results with the first therapy, Melody, give it some time. Don't worry, everything will be okay." the doctor was saying various reassuring words to her. As the doctor said, Melody was starting to warm up, feeling safe.
"How does it make you feel to be a doctor?" ' the Doctor asked unexpectedly.
"I am happy where I am. I used to study all the time. It was like a kind of therapy for me, as if you forgot a lot of things as you study.
" How beautiful . Look , you grow good things for yourself in life . It's a proud thing Melody . you should be proud of yourself . "
"Thank you." It was as if Melody was waiting to open. The doctor chose not to speak for a while. She gave him time. After a little more silence, the woman spoke:
"You know, you ask me 'how are you?', doctor, I haven't heard from anyone else. Sometimes I say why did I start and what will change. Sometimes it seems like nothing. But doing something for myself reconnects me to you. Being able to explain and be understood makes me more happy as I grow more happiness. And I feel ready for this world."
The woman made the doctor so proud that she sometimes thought of someone when she looked at him.
The doctor said:
"How was your school life?" - Meody's smiling face disappeared again in an instant
He shuddered , but what could he have done , it was the first time in his life that these questions were asked to him . It frightened him when he was asked what he could not tell even if he lived. She was so scared that nothing seemed to change for her, no matter how hard she tried to sort out her attitude. After a long silence the woman spoke:
"The first day of school. I was in a new school with my face that couldn't smile. You were so tired that I couldn't take a step to make a new start that day, doctor, my eyes were swollen, my inside was sore, exhaustion surrounded me to put out the unquenchable fire inside me, and it scared me every time. "We entered the first lesson. Everyone was going to introduce themselves one by one. It was my turn. I got up with my trembling voice and legs. The teacher asked:
-What is your name ?
- Melody, Melody Brown.
The first question he asked me was:
- Are you ok ?
What a silly question. Why does everyone ask how it is when they know they will get a false answer? Why does the doctor do this? Why or why? - the woman was squeezing herself again.His eyes were starting to fill up again. - I was meaningless again and again, whatever they saw on my face, they sent me home. I sat on the same seat again, which seat would I sit on that there was no other seat at home, if I told him my father wouldn't buy it, he wasn't buying me a buckle, would he buy a seat? Even if we bought it, what other memories would I save in it other than loneliness? It was a different chair, but it was the same inside, what would it matter - tears poured from the woman's eyes, she was hitting herself, thinking the psychologist hadn't noticed-
At that age, I wished to die every hour, every minute, every second, doctor. When I was 10 years old, I was telling my grief to my pillow with my tears. A person or a person did not say " why are you like this girl " . One person - the woman had a seizure, the doctor was holding her so much that her wrists were numb, the woman was still squeezing herself, she was crying and also with a pain that never goes away, with the wounds inside her, she was hurting so much that she couldn't explain her troubles. - The woman said one last thing, piercing the doctor's heart.
"It's all because of my mom"
Isn't it enough to drown?
Isn't my pain enough?
Isn't it enough, the mother you hurt?
