Prologue
“Why don’t you start with the events leading up to the accident. What happened? What were you thinking?” The lady across from me has her notebook out, her legs crossed, a pen ready. It’s not my first time talking to a therapist, but it is the first I can be fully honest with one. Nothing I say in here will ever get back to my mom. I look down at my hand that’s in a cast, a year apart from the last break I had. This time, my leg was injured as well, and it rests in a boot.
“I was told I would go to England, immediately. I didn’t have a choice.”
“Why not?”
“Because she controls me, body and soul.”
“Why didn’t you want to come to England?”
“It finalized my life. Sealed my fate. Ended my hope.”
“Hope for what?”
“Seeing them again.”
“Who?”
“The people I love most in this world. People, I would do anything to protect, even if it’s protecting them from me.”
“You say that as if you’re the bad guy.”
“I thought I was better than her. But at the end of the day, I’m just like my mother. I left my friends without telling them.”
“Why didn’t you tell them?”
“Because they would convince me to stay, but I wouldn’t be able to. My mom can ruin their lives.”
“No one is that powerful.”
“My mother is.”
“Let’s get back to the jump. What were you thinking at that moment?”
“I wanted to end her control. End the pain I didn’t know how to handle. End everything so I didn’t have to deal with it anymore.”
“But you regret jumping?”
“Because of Min.”
“Who is Min?”
“My best friend. We were roommates and best friends all year. She found me. Covered in mud, broken hand, and leg. I remember her sobbing. Screaming for someone to call 9-1-1. The look of terror on her face… I knew what I did was stupid. The pain wouldn’t end with me. I would have given it to Min to deal with.”
"You're not wrong. Pain may end for us, but it continues for other people. We have a lot to work out, Alia. I don't believe the jump was anything more than a dumb alcoholic decision. But you are fighting depression. So I want you to keep a journal. We’ll meet twice a week. The journal is not for my eyes, but I want you to write in it. If there is something you end up wanting to talk about, write it down. Next session, let’s delve deeper into the mother issue. I want to know about your relationship with her. And Alia, know that anything you say to me is confidential. Don’t feel like you have to close up. Okay?” I nod my head, feeling a little better than I did when I came in, but still just as broken as I have always been.
