Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“You didn’t mention much of your father in that story. Did he come to your supermarket in the kitchen?”
“No,” I said, scoffing. “He’ll have been watching football or some shit.”
“I hear animosity there, yet none for your mother, despite the fact you feel neglected by her. Why do you think that is?”
“I…” Fuck. That was a hard one. “I guess…Mum had more to deal with. She spent more time with me. My mum might not have dealt with my feelings or my meltdowns in the best way, but she dealt with them. My dad never showed up till it was over. He had it easy. He didn’t see how difficult things were for either of us…and he still couldn’t love me. There was literally nothing I could’ve done to make him care about me, and he hasn’t even got the decency to be incapable of caring because now he’s shacked up with a new family and kids that, seemingly, mean the fucking world to him.”
“Ah.” Phoebe nodded. “That’s a lot to process.”
“Yeah.” Again, I scoffed. “So you see my point? It’s me. I’m the problem. I must, I dunno, give off a weird, damaged aura or something.”
“I actually see an entirely different point and one I’d very much like you to consider.”
I raised an eyebrow, sceptical.
“Have you considered your parents were, as you put it, damaged people? I think it’s highly unlikely this was ever about you. As you said earlier, you share a lot of traits with your mother. I disagree with the descriptions you used, but you see similarities in your patterns of behaviour. Perhaps she herself suffered with a mental illness. Would you have known?”
Her statement felt oddly like a slap to the face. “Uh…no. No, I suppose I wouldn’t. I was a kid. Even when I got older, if she was like me, she probably wouldn’t have said anything.”
“I feel confident saying I don’t think your mother and father set out to fail you, Hugo. That doesn’t mean they didn’t. I would, however, think it profoundly rare for someone to bring a child into the world with the intention of causing them harm, psychological or otherwise. In case of an emergency, do you know why you’re asked to put on your oxygen mask before assisting others on an aeroplane?”
“Right. I see where you’re going here. You can’t help others effectively if you’re running out of air yourself, right?”
Phoebe grinned, looked proud of my answer. “I think it’s most likely your parents were struggling to fit their own masks. You aren’t responsible for their issues or failures any more than Helen is responsible for yours.”
“Helen? What’s she got to do with my parents?”
“You keep telling me how much you let her down. Much like how your parents let you down, no? Do you blame her? Has she pushed you away?”
“Of course not! I’m the one with the prob… Right.” I waggled my finger. “You caught me. I get it. You’re good, you know.” I didn’t know how it had happened, but little by little, I began to feel myself evening out. It felt like my thoughts and emotions were made of several bunches of tangled yarn and, slowly, one by one, Phoebe was helping me to unpick them, sort them into the correct colours, rewind them into smooth, neat spools.
“That’s why I get paid the big bucks,” she said.
In my head, I laughed, but the motion never reached my face. I was fucking exhausted. I’d never shared so much with another person before, not even Helen. I felt…liberated. Freer. I actually felt pretty fucking amazing…but still tired.
“I think we should leave it there for now,” Phoebe announced, the words musical to my worn ears. “Give you time to prepare for your acupuncture.”
Fuck. “Lucky me.”
“I’m confident you’ll love it.”
“Lotta confidence today, haven’t you?”
“Today and every day,” she said with a wide smile. “You’ve done fantastic today, Hugo. You should be really proud of yourself.”
I thought on that for a moment, eventually deciding that I was. I really fucking was.
Two weeks later…
It felt really fucking good to have Helen in my arms. She warmed my body from the inside out as she wrapped her arms around my waist, pressed her cheek to my chest. “I’ve missed you,” she said, holding me tight.
“God, I’ve missed you, too.” It wasn’t mandatory, but we were encouraged to give up our phones while holidaying in rehab. I say holidaying because when we weren’t breaking down in front of a therapist, we were pretty much being waited on hand and foot amidst luxury scenery. We could swim in the pool, dine on fine food whenever we wanted, play tennis, snooker, golf, even ride horses. The idea of blocking communication with the outside world was to work on living with ourselves over relying on the support of others. I wanted that. I needed to know I was capable of it so I wouldn’t risk burdening Helen.