Community mental health

The first assignment in the Prolonged Exposure Therapy

Chicken Alfredo.  I have no idea why, but I really am hungry for chicken alfredo.

I stare into my closet.  Do I wear office professional? Yoga pants and a funny shirt? Jeans and a v neck? I settle on Khaki capris and the v neck.

My curling iron is hot.  I pull my messy bun out and spray my hair down with my expensive salon hair spray.  Curls actually hold with it.

Make up. 

My eyebrows need waxed.  

Stress relief lotion, perfume, oil....I brush my teeth. Again.

I check  my phone for the time.  1230. A message from Amy blinks  asking if I want to meet up for lunch before the tour. I  do. We decide on Wendy's. There wasn't enough time for chicken alfredo.

The restaurant is  somewhat crowded.  I sit in the corner and wait.   I can't stop fidgeting.  She arrives, we eat, I feel my self disassociating.  The food is too filling.  Amy's talking, I reply, but I feel like I'm underwater and gasping for air.  She laughs at something I've said.  I come back to the present for a moment, but leave again when she gets up to throw her trash away.

Amy drives and plays Kenny Loggins the House at Pooh Corner, one of my comforts songs  I wish she'd worn her Cashmere mist perfume. 

We pull up to the building.  I want to sit here and look at it. My heart is already racing.  I count the doors, the memory of which to go in have faded. The sun is warming the pavement, I catch a whiff of the tarmac and my hands begin to shake. The door isn't as heavy as I remember.  I don't have to reach up, it's at hip level.  

We step in.  Aside from a  bit of modernization, the lobby is the same. The same chairs, arranged in the same manner. The reception desk is now glassed in.  I approach the receptionist. State my name. Trip over the escort's name.  I am looking down, but feel as though I'm small. 

Amy and I turn to find a seat.  The people waiting all seem familiar, as though they stepped through time with me.  I walk around, glancing at the bathrooms. I'd forgotten about them. They don't bother me.

I have a split screen in my head.  I see everything through adult eyes, and then  switch over to my childhood memories.  Amy's voice pulls me back to the present and I want to cling to her it.  I don't want to disappear.

My name is called and I startle.  I look to see if anyone else has noticed.  I feel huge, obnoxiously conspicuous. Exposed. Vulnerable.  

The escort is dressed casually, I'm thrown.  I was expecting professional attire.  The air of condensation that I knew as a child is missing. Instead, she's warm, almost happy to see me it seems.  The three of was walk down the hall.  I try to read the names, peek into the offices.  We pass one that catches my breath. I'm pretty sure that was Leslie's.  It's empty, I take a couple steps back. The escort and Amy stop. I try to tell them, but the words catch in my throat. We progress forward to the last office in the corridor.

We stop as a group and the escort tells me I can go in.

I back closer to the wall.  The hallway seems to shrink. "It's not like the other offices. They all just had a desk and a plant. ..." I'm encouraged to go in. I take a step forward when I hear "It's 2 o'clock already?"

My contact arrived, she and another lady join our group.  It's getting harder to breathe.  I try to stand closer to Amy. I want to take her hand. Instead, I cross my arms over my chest.  

The contact lady also encourages me go into the office. Trepidly, I do.  

It's just an office.  I stand looking in, and turn to leave.  They're all watching me.  My brain speeds up.  Are they laughing? This is stupid. It's a building, with offices.  I've worked in buildings with offices.

Amy, the escort and I journey forth, asking about a room that was used for kids.  It's now offices.  We go in to the one adjacent to the one I remember being in.  A 2 way mirror takes up the wall facing the other office.

"Was that...was that always there? the mirror?"  I begin to rub my thumb up and down my fingers

"Yep. The curtains are closed on it right now." 

 "I mean, it wasn't added on later?" I ask

 The escort looks confused. "No. It's always been there." 

I laugh, or I think I laugh. "See Amy, It makes sense. I wasn't paranoid."  I'm starting to feel crazy.  I want to cry. I want to leave.  I want to hold Amy's hand. The screen splits and I see the puppets. The books that have pictures where we can talk about how and where we were touched. And the book Alexander and the Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.  (And as I got older, Betsy Byers books)

We are lead up to the lobby.  I try to say thank you, but the room is expanding and shrinking.  I try to be invisible as I leave.

I show Amy the route that I had to walk. She says how stupid the foster parents were for making us walk that far. I agree. 

 I'm disappearing.  

Her voice has lost it's ability to pull me back.  

She jokes about a hug if I need one. 

 I'm afraid I'll cry and hold on to hard.

I stop at the store on the way home to get alfredo and noodles.

The rest of the night I can't settle. I hug Travis. I hug the girls.  I watch youtube videos. I cuddle Sam. But I can't come back.  I eat Autumn's homemade pizza.  I take a bath.

I take an Ativan.  I sleep.