Friday, April 3, 2009

explosion III

my therapist is nice. she's been my therapist for almost two years already. she comes to my house to pick me up, and takes me to someone else's office. it's different than hers. in her office, there are games and art supplies. this is not a kid friendly office at all. in some ways, i don't care. i'm not a kid anymore.

i sit down in the swivel chair. spinning, spinning, spinning. faster, faster, faster. answering questions while i spin. aren't you dizzy, she askes? i don't care, i answer. spinning, spinning, spinning. faster, faster, faster. when i walk out, i don't remember what we talked about.

she drops me off at home. i pack a bag, and go back to my cousin's house. i'm going to sleep there. i can't sleep in the same house as jack. i bring along my stuffed gorilla. no one my age sleeps with a stuffed animal anymore, and i'm embarrassed. but i bring it anyway. i need it to sleep. i don't even know why i like gorilla. its fur is scratchy. plus, once someone put him on top of a lamp, so some of his fur is burnt off. i'm happy when no one notices that i brought him along. i leave my stuff on the extra bed. my cousin's little daughter has to sleep on the floor because of me. it's not really so extra. if this was a regular sleepover, we wouldn't care. like this, i'm embarrassed, and she's a little resentful. she's only seven, why wouldn't she be?

in the morning, i go back home. i need to help get ready for the seder like everyone else. but i go back to my cousin every time i need a break. one time that i come over, i hear a shriek, and see something black and furry fly out the window. one of the kids saw black fur on the bed, and out of fear that it was a real animal, picked it up and threw it. it lands outside in a mud puddle. now, i don't have a stuffed animal anymore.

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