Brighter prospects

Biting back tears, I sat on the train to Brent. I’d just got a text from L, explaining she couldn’t help me with medication anymore. I’m okay about it now - and even then, I don’t think I was taking it personally. But it did add to the feeling of isolation.

I warned Brent I might cry. In fact, I hoped to. But, by the time I arrived in his office, things felt brighter. I’d even had an adventure trying to get up and (of greater challenge) get down from the mound of Bishops Stortford.

It was boiling in the room, with the heater on full blast, despite the sun beating down on the country. We moved our chairs across the floor, away from the radiator. I say ‘we’ but it was more Brent: he moved his and then, after watching me fail miserably, suggested we work together for mine i.e. he did it too.

I tried to pick up my glass of water and promptly spilt it everywhere.

‘Well, you haven’t cried yet...but the water has...’

I apologised profusely as he mopped up the spillage, feeling confused by my newfound strength of mind.

‘So it’s been really sh*t?’
‘Really, really, really.’

I told him what had been going on and it felt good to be listened to. He was proud of me for how I’d stood up to L in her stroppy text on Saturday. He reckoned that was why church on Sunday had been better. I’m not sure they were related but hey. I mentioned my wrist wound breaking open.

‘I’m worried about this cutting, Laura.’
‘Yes, so am I to be honest.’
‘It seems that if you can’t cut, you overdose’
‘And if I can’t overdose, I cut.’

The conversation went on. Brent asked some more about this issue of me thinking people are cross with me when they aren’t. I was trying to describe how my mum had often seemed cross when I was younger but it wasn’t like she was really shouty.

‘You’ve got to understand, Laura, I know what it’s like having three children.’

Yes! Result! I’d got Brent to say he had three children without even trying. You see, he’s often talked about his twins but never mentioned there being any other children before and yet a cheeky google of him had informed me that he had had a son a few years back. I’d been beginning to worry the son had died or something terrible due to the lack of mention of him. I didn’t know how to ask without potentially causing upset (and/or admitting to my little stalk). But no, no, all was OK. Must text the housemate, I thought.

Before I knew it, time was coming to an end.

‘I’m worried we’ve only got five minutes left and we don’t have any answers.’
‘Yes, I can see you looking at the clock’

Last time that was said to me, it was because I was willing a counselling session to end! Quite the opposite this time.

‘I will FaceTime you on Wednesday to check in.’
‘Thank you. And in the meantime what did we say I needed to do?’
‘You need to speak to your GP about a medication plan and get a nurse to check your wrist.’

It was so kind of him to suggest speaking on Wednesday, I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t suggested it actually.

I was somewhat embarrassed when I later ended up going to the nurse and there was literally no opening on my wrist! Oh well, at least it was alright.