gabe/Molly at beach house

I stumbled to the living room, still half asleep and fighting off the numbness of depression. My eyes were basically closed as I plopped onto the sofa next to gabe, only widening when I saw on the table in front of me a disposable vape pen I’d smuggled in, and the otk wooden paddle right next to it. Gulping, I glanced up at him trying to find an excuse.

“You get one opportunity to explain yourself, so make it good,” he warned, less playful than normal. He gave me an izaak vibe, too serious for so early in the morning. Normally gabe would’ve asked questions so I’d dig myself into a hole, but today he seemed too disappointed to do even that.

His eye contact was too fierce… I couldn’t downplay what I’d done. “I don’t have an explanation.”

“During our talk with Toby, you agreed that you needed a week or two at the beach house away from weed.”

I hung my head, nodding.

“You hid this anyway and have been smoking since we arrived, haven’t you?” He lifted my chin so that I looked into his worried eyes. “Did you smoke every night? When you said you were journaling?”

“…yes… but I journaled too!”

“That’s not the point. This week is supposed to be about taking the best care of yourself so you can start figuring out your future. You were even the one to suggest you needed a tolerance break. Then you packed a vape pen. Why?”

“I dunno….”

“I bet the doc would have some theories…” he said, reaching for his phone.

“Nooo don’t call him! I just wanted to have it… in case I wanted to smoke.”

He shook his head at me. “You know what’s going to happen now, don’t you?”

I glanced over at the paddle then looked up at him with puppy eyes.

“This isn’t a joke, Molly.” He paused and it looked like he was getting all teary eyed?? Which just made me feel worse. “I wish you had brought it to test my limits, but we’ve been here 3 days and you kept it so well-hidden until last night… it doesn’t add up.”

“I’m sorry…”

“I know. And you know I will do what I can to ensure this doesn’t happen again, testing or not.” I gulped and he pointed to the corner. “Bare your bottom, nose in the corner, and think about the paddling you’ve earned.”

Random scene in mind

“Remember our deal? You need to take care of yourself, not worry about taking care of me or anyone else. So you need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

I huffed and folded my arms at gabe. “That’s not fair!”

“Molly, do I need to put you back over my knee?”

The threat made me more angry than excited. “The only reason you’re making such a big deal out of this is because you’re projecting. You never open up to me or let me take care of you, nor do you let anyone else do it. And how am I supposed to express love to you if you won’t let me do it in the only way I know how? And you’re also not being a good example of how to accept help, just so ya know.”

Gabe opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, frowning. “Okay,” he said simply.

I blinked. “Okay what?”

“Okay, I hear you. You’re right. I can’t expect you to let me take care of you if I don’t reciprocate.”

Toby Chloe convo

“What don’t you like about working at gabes firm?”

“Just I’m not good at it and creepy clients, like we talked about before.”

“Ah, yes, I remember now. But that doesn’t really answer the question. You can be good at any job you feel drawn towards, and and creepy clients also happen regardless of the job. What’s the real reason?”

I glanced down, a little uncomfortable (and excited) at how easy it was for toby to keep the conversation about me. “I’m just not really cut out for it… it’s not my thing.”

He shook his head, unsatisfied. “Still not an answer. I would love to break you of that habit.” (😈 Toby has an evil side)

“Well what if I just don’t have an answer?” I said with an awkward giggle, unsure if I wanted this interrogation to continue 🤔

“I would say you’re lying,” he answered flatly. “An appropriate response may be, ‘I’m not going to answer,’ which works in non-coaching situations… but if I were breaking you of this habit, I wouldn’t allow that answer either.”

I squirmed, wondering what it would be like to have Toby in that role, though I felt shy to say anything about it out loud.

What a new feeling — shy around a guy? That’s not me!

“Haven’t you ever disliked a job without any clear reason?”

“No. But we’re discussing you right now.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling like a pre-teen talking to her crush. “Why don’t you just tell me the answer then.”

Toby just stared at me for a minute, confident expression, kinda cocky but kinda serious. “That’s not how this works. I don’t have the answers to your questions… the answers come…”

“From within?” I said in a mocking tone, giggling a little at Toby’s surprise that I was making fun of him. “You’re so hippie dippie sometimes.”

“And you’re using every defense to avoid any vulnerability, which I’m not criticizing, simply stating.”

I blushed. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“It’s not about what I want you to say, it’s about what you genuinely think and feel. I don’t find much fulfillment in people feeding me bullshit.”

I sighed, wondering what I did genuinely think and feel. “Maybe it’s too stressful… high stakes… corporate. You know, my grandparents were super hippie, too. Maybe this job just isn’t in my genes.”

Toby gave a half smile. What is he thinking? “I’ll accept that answer… for now.”

More Molly

“Molly?”

I didn’t move, body too heavy with depression to socialize, so I hoped gabe (and violet) would think I’m sleeping and just carry on with their day.

I should’ve known better — these are the two most persistent people I know.

“Bro she’s just faking sleep, you gotta talk to her.”

Continuing Molly scene

“How Can Molly get her job back.” Gabe asked it with such confidence, I was sure an answer with actionable steps would follow.

Toby maintained a neutral expression, though I suspected he didn’t like Gabe’s cockiness. My body tensed as I awaited conflict, pleasantly surprised at the calmness in Toby’s voice. “I don’t appreciate the implication that my decision isn’t about what’s in Molly’s best interest.” Now he glanced in my direction, causing butterflies in my tummy. “When was the last time you smoked within an hour before a session started?”

My heart stopped and I chewed on my lower lip, not wanting to answer. But the way both men looked at me, that wasn’t an option. “I… i don’t remember…” I stammered, looking away so they couldn’t read my eyes.

Toby only made us sit in the uncomfortable silence for a few excruciating seconds. “I’m willing to bet it was yesterday.”

My heart thumped against my chest as I chewed on my fingernail, staring at the floor.

“In fact, I suspect it’s nearly everyday, but I don’t want to believe that. I haven’t wanted to believe it for a while. We all want you to succeed, Molly. So much that I’ve deceived myself about how serious this problem has become. You aren’t happy as a therapist — at least I don’t think you are — and I don’t know if you will be until your childhood trauma is resolved.” He now turned to Gabe. “You know as well as I do that if we tried to fight this, her body language would tell the truth for her. Poker face is not her strength.”

I didn’t have the courage to look up and see how Gabe respond to Toby’s thought, and he didn’t speak.

So Toby continued. “And if she got away with it this time, how long until it happens again? There’s too much on the line here. At least this way,” he turned back to me, “you won’t lose your license, so once you’ve worked through… whatever this is… you can always come back.”

We sat in another tense silence until this time, Gabe spoke. “He’s right.”

That’s when I finally looked up, surprised at the admission. My friends faces were both filled with worry, which triggered something inside of me that turned on the waterworks. I felt so ashamed and useless…. But cared for at the same time. The most confusing cocktail of emotions.

Izaaks experience

The room was silent as we waited for izaak to reveal his big discovery. We’d all heard him throughout the experience — he’d cried a lot, and those big, ugly, uncontrollable sobs. I’d never seen him breakdown like that, and even though I’d been in the middle of my own separate experience, I’d managed to send loving kindness vibes to him (I know, sounds corny af).

He cleared his throat. Normally, thousands of guesses would leap to mind, but my own defenses having been worked on, there was a quiet curiosity engulfing me instead.

“I was transported to a childhood memory, but a different perspective… it’s difficult to explain.” The way he sucked in a deep breath, I knew his vision had been profound. “I met my parents… in spirit somehow… they weren’t the people I thought. From them I felt intense love and gratitude. And I realized… the betrayal I have been angry at myself for wasn’t really my fault. I was a child, and I was manipulated by adults who knew how to scare me into obedience. Then somehow, I was able to forgive myself.” Tears welled in his eyes as he said this, and it genuinely felt like something had been lifted from him.

Later when he and I were alone, I pried for more information, which I thought would make him uncomfortable, but he seemed different.

“Some American soldiers stopped me and asked information about my family… I wasn’t supposed to be out and had been advised not to speak to foreigners, so when I realized I’d given the men info that resulted in their death, I naturally blamed myself. But in my vision I saw what would have happened if I hadn’t said anything — I would’ve died too. And then I saw how that would have affected everything and everyone else… like Chloe, Molly… you.”

I couldn’t help but blush even though I tried to play it off.

“And then went back to these people who were my parents. It felt true. I don’t know… it showed their life… controlled by my family… then me as a baby being kidnapped, taken to the village leader who had received a ‘message’ about me being a prophet or something. It was really because he’d raped the woman and thought I was his son. He hadn’t been able to have his own with his wife.” Izaak paused, still in shock by the image. “I don’t know if it’s true. It feels like it is, and makes sense emotionally, but it’s hard for me to translate emotions into facts. It’s hard to process.”

“Maybe that should be part of your intention tonight… figuring out how to be comfy with emotions when there are no concrete facts.”

It’s like me trying to give advice reminded him of being in the spotlight and made him want to turn it back on me. “Did you find any answers to your questions about spanking?”

“Sorta, but i haven’t found words for it yet.” Really I just wasn’t quite ready to say anything out loud… because that’s what makes it true.

Violet in Mexico

(this was more brainstorming than anything, so doesn't make much sense)

“Next… violet?”

I glanced up at the psychologist Toby had recommended — a Harvard graduate who provided ayahuasca ceremonies for rich white people in Mexico — then back down where I’d written out my hopes for this weekend retreat.

“My intention is to learn about the root of my anger problems. I want to be guided towards resolution and find peace.”

I turned to izaak, who had expected me to say more, given I’d written a full page of thoughts. But it’s because I didn’t want to say the spanko thoughts out loud. Or the thoughts I was having about him. And besides, the doc said we only needed to share whatever we felt comfy with.

Seeing that I wasn’t going to continue, izaak decided to read his notes (really bullet points). There was a slight quiver of nervousness as he spoke. “To understand my purpose, have more clarity about the future — my career, my family, friends. I feel numb to many of life’s pleasures in an attempt to bury past traumas. It’s uncomfortable to seek support, but now I’ve hit a low at a time in my life where I have people who care. Maybe it’s time to confront my past… not only what others have done to me, but what I have done to others, and what I have done to myself.”

x-x-x-x

I’m just laying there when I start to feel sick. My tummy gurgling, wondering why I drank that nasty tea. I tried to remind myself that it’s okay, just let it happen. I noticed the thoughts then hugged the bucket, hiding my face to vomit out the badness. As I hurled, I heard layers of noise. Crickets and other forest creatures. Other participants puking. Shamans chanting. Light drumming. Such a contrast from typical nyc sounds. My body finally eased into the environment, the last of my stomach contents finally out of me.

I stretched out on my side, feeling a little dizzy. Eyes closed, i felt the vibrations from the shaman chanting. The vibrations turned into my spirit guide, which is the only way I know how to describe it even though I don’t know that it encompasses my full experience. Love flowed through my being, so vibrant and joyous that I couldn’t stop the tears.

Suddenly my body turned cold, all the loving warmth concentrated in my heart, my legs tingling. I noticed the feeling of being a small child… a baby even. Immediately I recognized the apartment, though I wasn’t sure where it was. I was in my mothers arms but she looked cold, detached, angry. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I was crying and she was trying to shush me.

The warmth came back as I felt myself detaching from the scene, now noticing it as if I was floating above. My mom looked so young… and I, unrecognizable. She picked up a phone and shouted at someone. Chills covered my body. Someone knocked on the door and suddenly the scene changed… now I was alone with strangers, crying, wondering why my parents had abandoned me.

exercising my writing muscle

Toby's vibe sent a chill down my spine as I followed him into his office, trying to talk my anxiety down before it spiraled out of control.  "Is everything okay?"  Instead of answering, he directed me to sit as he closed the door behind us, which didn't help me feel any better.  The silence suffocated me as I waited for him to take the seat in front of me.  He wouldn't look me in the eyes...  "Toby... you're scaring me... what happened?"

He cleared his throat and finally looked up.  "Your client's mom is accusing you of being 'on something' during a session."

My heart skipped a beat then sank into my stomach, sizzling with self-hatred.  "W-what?  Why does she think that?"  Gabe's voice was embedded into my brain, reminding me never to admit to something without evidence, but I was ready to burst into tears, apologizing.  I swallowed back a lump in my throat.

"Listen," Toby said, leaning forward and now making fierce eye contact that made me want to squirm away.  "This isn't easy..."

My body turned to ice, suddenly wondering if this was a nightmare and trying to find a way to wake myself up.... 

"You and I both know the truth.  And I can't..." he paused and looked away for a second.  I'd never seen Toby struggle so much to find words.  "I can't allow it to continue.  I think you should take a break from being a therapist."

"Is that a request... or a demand?"

Random Toby/vic scene in my mind (from the past)

“I’m just feeling so insecure.”

Vic cocked his head to the side, not really computing Toby’s statement. “About what?”

“It’s a lot of responsibility.. peoples lives are in my hands… I can’t fuck up.” Sweat beaded on his forehead as his mind spiraled into the worst case scenario… losing a patient because of carelessness.

Unaware of his friends anxiety, vic chuckled a little. “Bro, you shouldn’t have let your narcissism decide your career!”

Toby knew he was joking, but it rubbed him the wrong way. “That’s so invalidating,” he said, eyebrows crinkled disapprovingly. “Now I understand why Violeta’s emotional intelligence is nonexistent.”

There was a tense silence as Toby instantly regretted his words and tried to take them back…

“I didn’t mean that…”

Vic isn’t the fighting type, valuing harmony instead, but couldn’t help being a little snappy and defensive in response. “Yes you did.”

“I shouldn’t have said it… that was out of line.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have. And you’re right that I was being invalidating. If I’m being honest, it’s strange for me to think of a privileged straight white boy feeling insecure about work. But I guess you are human, even if you act like a robot sometimes.”

Toby gave an uncomfortable laugh at Vic’s lame joke. Then before Vic could continue babbling, Toby looked him in the eyes and said, “I’m not straight.” He turned like a million different shades of red, but didn’t break his friends gaze.

Vic’s heart jumped a little. He’d kinda known this already, and felt a little relieved at the confession, but tried not to let it show. “Okay, well you’re still a white dude. Lots of privilege wrapped up there.”

“And still allowed to feel insecure,” Toby insisted.

Vic playfully rolled his eyes. “Fine, I hereby validate your feelings, sir Toby.” He made a gesture as if knighting him (or whatever it’s called), then got serious. “But for real, you’re gonna be fine. Your heart is in the right place and that’s all that matters.”

“My heart is located in my thoracic cavity, just like every other human. That doesn’t mean I won’t fuck up.”

“Oh you’ll definitely fuck up, especially if you take shit so literally like that. But you’ll learn from your fuck ups and become even better, then help even more people. It’s all part of the process. But you know that already, right? Cuz if you don’t… maybe shrinking isn’t the job for you…”

Now was Toby’s turn to eye roll, even though he felt a deep admiration for Vic. There was something about his vibe… the way Vic just enjoyed life without being too careless, the way he took care of his family without feeling obligated…. Vic seemed perfect… normally a red flag… but their relationship felt… right.

Random past toby/tristen

“Tristen, what’s going on?”

“Nothing you’d understand.”

“Try me.”

I rolled my eyes at my big brother, continuing to walk towards the train station and ignore his request.

Toby’s persistent though. He reached for my shoulder to stop me from walking too far ahead, then looked me in the eyes. Worry lines were etched into his brow. “What I meant is, I’ll try to understand as best as I can. I genuinely want to know. No judgments.”

My eyebrows raised. “Promise?”

With a half smile he thrusted out his hand to shake on it.

I felt silly recounting my minuscule teenager problems, a voice in my head calling me dramatic every ten seconds as I shared complaints about mom. I’m supposed to be grateful I even have a family, a roof over my head, food on the table. Same lines fed by my parents day after day, somehow now embedded into me.

“It’s not supposed to be like this. Moving was supposed to be good for everyone… mom was going to be able to take care of her health better… dads back so we’re like an actual family…” I paused, swallowing back tears because even I’m not that dramatic. “But it’s like nothing has changed. Nothing fucking changed. It’s the same shit, different location. Dads ‘sobriety’ lasted two seconds. Moms manic trying to make everything perfect for him and forgetting about me. It’s just not fair. Parents suck.”

There was a pause as we boarded the subway, and I noticed myself holding my breath, waiting for Toby to feed me the same bs all the adults always did. “Oh they didn’t mean it” or “life isn’t fair” or “cheer up, kid, it’s not so bad!”

My brother isn’t like all the other adults, though. “You were expecting to finally have this picture perfect family that you’ve been waiting for all this time… and now you’re disappointed because they’ve proven to you, once again, you’ll never get that.”

Cue those tears I’d been avoiding earlier.

Toby wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me against his chest for a hug. I pressed my face into his t shirt, wanting to hide from everyone.

“Sorry, I’m such a baby,” I muttered.

“It’s okay to be a baby sometimes.”

A street musician entered the train cart and belted out an acoustic song in Spanish, then held his cowboy hat out for tips. Toby reached into his pocket and tossed a $5 bill to the man.

I peeled myself away from the hug and wiped my eyes, now feeling a little calmer.

“Does Tanya’s diagnosis make you nervous?”

My tummy flinched. “Why would that make me nervous? Nothing we can do about it, it is what it is.”

“It could make you nervous that something similar could happen to you, or it could make you feel powerless in general I guess.”

My eyes widened, then I pulled my feet up in my seat, hugging my knees against my chest. The diagnosis had been shocking and depressing, not only prompting my parents spirals, but clearly also my own. “At first I just tried to stay positive about it, maybe in a toxic way. Blind faith. What religious people talk about. But obviously god isn’t real. Nothing I’ve ever stayed positive about has worked out. It’s just disappointment over and over again.. ever since I can remember.”

Toby placed a hand on my shoulder. “You were born into chaos. Staying positive has been the way you’ve survived all the bullshit… and sounds like now it’s starting to do the opposite.”

I nodded. “Life sucks. When can it just be over?”

He let out a slight chuckle. “Some people say after this life is over, you have to go through it all again in another body.”

My eyes narrowed at him. “What the fuck, no way. We don’t believe in that shit.” It was nice to see him laughing though. He’d been so stressed out too. “If you actually become a shrink one day, that’s gonna be how you save a suicidal person. Remind them they might have to do this all over again. Fuck. That.”

We had a good laugh about that, letting our creativity take over for a while, making meaning out of our tragedy.

As we walked up the stairs to our apartment, Toby stopped me for a second. “Hey, I don’t want to be called in to pick you up from school again about stealing art supplies.”

“Allegedly.”

“I’m not dumb, Tristen,” he said in a firm enough voice to make me gulp. “I’m here for you no matter what, but steal again and there will be consequences, got it?”

I blushed, hoping no one had heard. “Yeah yeah, I hear you, no stealing, yada yada.”

He gave me a light swat on the bottom. “I mean it. We don’t need the school to call child services again.” He paused, realizing how much responsibility he was putting on me. “At least we don’t need them to be called over this, right? If you want art supplies, I’ll reward good behavior.”

With a sigh, I resisted the urge to correct him again — no one had evidence of me stealing! — and just agreed. “I’ll be a perfect angel 😇.”