Confessions of a Therapist I

take a deep breath.

my heart is pounding, my head throbbing as i try to suck in air, knowing i have only moments left before the looming presence of yet another client is outside my office door.

how hard can it be. how hard can it be. how hard can it be. 

the words ring through my head as i contemplate my current situation. client number ten for today. 

you just sit in a chair all day! at least you’re not out breaking your body. 

but my body feels broken. stiff from sitting, from bearing the weight of countless stories and failures. twisted with guilt and shame that i couldn’t find the magic fix to make it all better. ripped apart as my experiences don’t blend and dance with the experiences of others.

the noise in my head is steadily rising. the sound of time click, click, clicking away. 

it’s only one more person. easy. 

i don’t think i can do it. i can’t listen to another person beg for help in a situation where there is no help.

my phone vibrates on the table next to me. with every ounce of remaining strength i have for the day, i shove the aching behind my left eye to recess of mind as i swing the door open, smile plastered onto my face with as much sincerity as i can muster.

“Hey! Come on in!”