By the time I got back home I was completely fagged out. I fell on my orthopedic bed with a loud thud and drifted to sleep. Was I asleep or was I awake? I don’t know anymore.
I saw Richard while sleeping. He told me he was afraid to live. He said I should have allowed him drown. He had lost his wife and kids in a car accident and he was recently laid off from his job and couldn’t even pay his bills. He’s the only child of ‘only-child ‘ parents who had passed away a couple of years back. His wife was also orphaned and literally, he had no other family.
Amidst my tossing and turning, I opened an eyelid to notice my grandfather’s massive antique clock on the purple wall striking 3 AM. I must have slept because I closed my eyes at 11 PM or was it 12? I don’t know anymore. Turns out, I dream of things I’ve seen through the day. It’s no wonder I’ve been having insomnia for some years now. Who would sleep after hearing the horrendous stories shared everyday by clients?
Richard had been through a lot and death was pretty much his best option. Definitely not the only option. He complained that life had lost its meaning and he didn’t even know where to start from.
I think about death a lot lately. Sometimes I welcome it with open arms, other times I just ponder upon the power death wields. It takes anyone without a second thought. It turns its cold back to the ceaseless tears flowing upon the plain faces of loved ones.
When my spell began some few years back and I had an episode on my wedding day, I was pretty much ready to die. His parents didn’t allow him go ahead with the marriage. Heck! His face was as white as though he had seen a ghost. Maybe that’s when I cut all attachments and became a lone ranger. A loner at night but an ever listening, ever patient therapist at day.
You know how we often think we are the only ones experiencing the worst of situations? Every therapy session reveals otherwise. There’s always a worst story. Day after day, client after client, I’ve learned the untold evil that plagues the inhabitants of this planet. As selfish humans though, we get stuck up in our pool of despair that we fail to see the other person falling off the cliff.
I’ve been on medications for as long as I can remember but the best medication for me has been listening to other people’s pains and helping them get out of their heads. In the end, most of what we feel or experience is all in our heads. I get them out of their heads and do the job for them. Excessive thinking.
Maybe I make up for my pain by ensuring no one lives through it. I think I’m addicted to the pain. My pain has numbed me. No one should go through that.
Richard has to live. Even though I know suicide is an illusion of escape from the known world, I know the unknown world is not where Richard would like to be right now. It’s worse than this place. He won’t even be able to handle it. He blames me for not allowing him die that day and put an end to his misery. If only he knew, he would thank me for saving him from the afterlife.
Sometimes I wonder how something as cold as death emerges from a world as hot as hell. The known and unknown worlds. I wish I could completely figure those out. Turns out the books I’ve been reading on them leave me more confused.
It’s another sleepless night, I didn’t get the rest that was required of me. But I’ve got to get back to work. I’ve missed it. Maybe that’s because the work is all I’ve got to keep me sane.
©Mfon Etuk, 2016.
2 thoughts on “The Therapist- Sleepless Nights”
Great story! Love how you’re really getting inside of her head!
Thanks for following Courtney!