There was something about the leaves changing colours, and the way that they fell so gently down onto the ground. The way the wind blew, how crisp it was outside and the smell of pine cones and sweet red apples that blossomed in trees; waiting to be picked and turned into apple pies and apple crumbles. And how could I forget, the month, where its last day has us dressing up as ghouls and goblins and for some of us, shameful nurses and naughty teachers. Oh how I loved fall.
"It was October 4, the year 2008 when I lost my brother. Nate. He died in a car accident. He and his friends were out celebrating their big win at their final football game. The driver unfortunately had been drinking, lost control of the car and crashed into an oncoming truck, killing all except himself. How ironic is that?" I said, without a single tear. I had become numb to this topic of discussion; it didn't phase me anymore. The psychiatrist across from me, stared at me, as if he were waiting for an overwhelming amount of emotion to rush over me. But nothing came out and I sat there, and just stared back.
He coughed, realizing how long he had been staring, to snap out of it, "excuse me, um and how do you feel about that?" I smirked. What a typical response.
"I miss my brother. I don't have any ill feelings towards his friend, he has enough to deal with. Knowing that he killed so many people, I'm not going to add on to his stress. He's in jail for the rest of his life and I feel sorry for him. He lost everything, just as I did. My brother was my whole world."
"How old were you at the time of the accident?"
"Thirteen. My brother was seventeen, two weeks shy of his eighteenth birthday." I said, and smiled to myself, thinking of how happy he always was around his birthday. He definitely acted like a girl when it came to his birthday. He'd make sure everyone knew it was his big day and we'd always do it up big for him. He loved the attention. What he loved the most though, was his family. Family meant everything to him and to me. Still is, it's just a bit different now.
"That must've been hard on you at such a young age." I wondered if that was a question or a statement. I answered it anyway.
"Yes. It was for a time. I think the hardest part was having my parents split up afterwards. They both grieved differently and that caused frustration and fighting on both ends, inevitably ending in divorce. I was fourteen by then."
"So one year after your brothers passing, your parents divorced? How did you deal with that?" He asked. This session made me realize that all psychiatrists do, is repeat what you just said and ask how you feel about it. Before I could answer the timer went off, our one-hour session was done. Thank God for that I thought. Before he could even say his end of the day speech, I got up and left. My mom was waiting in the hallway.
"How did it go Sadie?" She asked shyly. She looked so frail. Her keto diet was working.
"It was alright. You didn't have to wait for me, but thanks anyways"
To be Continued...
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Canada • 29 years old