Cutting Out The Climax Pt. 2 (Therapy. Happiness.)

The coffee pot in the waiting room was empty.      
That was fine. I only ever get a cup for...I don't know...formality?        
Something warm to hold?        
To look busy?        
It's nerves.        
Mostly just nerves.        
Though i'm not sure why.          
Why am I lying? She gave me 'homework'.        
It seemed very Socratic method.    
She wanted me to think of a question to ask Her.        
It's been a few months of this now. Bigger fancier words spring to mind. Cognitive behavioral therapy. Holistic therapy. 6 syllable antidepressants i've long since given up on pronouncing the names for (mostly because i've been shuffling through them, something about finding the 'right' one.)        
         
"Harold! Come on in!"        
         
Same room. Same French press smell. A part of me wanted to mention the empty pot in the lobby...maybe I could ask to use hers?        
         
"Sooo, how are you? How are your legs?"        
'it's a good leg day. i'm starting to think I hold on to things, stay close to things, more out of a reflex now? i'm just scared of...'        
'falling again'        
"Falling again"        
She smiled.          
"That's great to hear."        
         
More simple pleasantries, weather, her morning, something about finding parking.        
Then she asked how my medications were making me feel which usually meant we were actually going to start.        
         
I interrupted her and said I didn't like how the current one made me feel and was thinking about changing it again. She started to talk again but I got impatient.        
'i thought about what you um, asked me to think about earlier this week'        
"Oh?! You thought of something YOU wanted to ask!"        
She flipped the folder over and opened up her notepad.        
She leaned forward. It's something that I won't get used to, this...just this...attention. I've only felt this way once before. But that person and I rarely talk these days, let alone about anything that I would consider intimate or personal. And she had admitted once while together that it could be overbearing for her sometimes. That made me feel guilty and burdensome. So I stopped...       
         
"So what did you come up with."        
I shifted in my chair. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable. My confidence is mostly a coward.        
I stood up and looked away.          
'do you think...i don't know....uh...do you think that...people are just naturally happy? Like, they wake up, do their wake up routine or whatever, and if everything is...er....'right' in their life, bills paid, okay job, grocery shopping done, kids, pet, picket fence, blah blah blah blah blah whatever...that they just feel...ya know....happy? normal? is being happy normally...normal?'        
         
Her face did this...thing...I started noticing it on the rare occasion that I surprised her.        
         
"Well, now what I think we're talking about is self fulfillment. And I would say that's what most tend to strive for, whether they know it or not. Is that what you're angling towards?"        
'no...i mean...that's not quite right...i'm not talking about my limbo...for once...at least those things are just in the air ya know? like finding a new job and where to move and live and all that, the money is already there, those are all just things that are taking time and i've accepted that....'        
"So you're not fulfilled on those things right now necessarily, but you know it's okay because it's in motion?"        
'Yeah...'        
"Hmm could it be ju--"        
'it's like...what am i doing? why am i doing anything?'        
"Does it feel frustrating?"        
'constantly. it's like...playing 1 f3....accidentally...every time...'        
"....you play chess?"        
'yeah, well no...like not crazy. my friend Joe told me about it...it was kind of an inside joke.'        
"Oh. So...you think you're constantly making the wrong  move?"        
'...i don't know about that...but that's how it feels...'        
         
"Did your old life style make you happy?"        
'ha! no, not at all...it led me here.'        
She smiled.        
'! I mean...like i'm not mad i'm here talking to you....actually TRYING to getting all of this figured out..it's just...'        
"haha I know! No offense taken."        
'...but i think it was just...it made me forget that I was distracting myself from not being happy? like a deadbolt on a already locked door....'        
Strange Rabbit Eared Boy With A Stone Hard Shell        
         
'it's all nonsense isn't it.'        
"No not necessarily. You know what I do think though? I might have a better understanding on where to go from here. That this is a great step for you! Something that's reoccurring in our sessions is that you don't ask anything that isn't more of a....technical?..."        
She thought about it for a second and nodded,          
"...question. Like something you could just flip a page to in a book and read about, and that's great! I know understanding this is a big part, not only of you, but to you as well, and this was more of an exercise to help you...open up in a way. Like that one poem you told me about with the bluebird."        
I knew which one she was talking about. I felt embarrassed for using such a obvious example.        
I sat back down in the chair, I felt exhausted.        
These sessions always tire me out        
"So what I want you to do is find a rock."        
My head turned. Confused.  
"Metaphorically. What grounds you? What makes you calm down?"        
'....'        
"You're making that face."        
'i have one too?'        
"?"        
'nothing....my answer is dumb....'        
"Go ahead."        
I looked at the clock.        
We had nothing but time.        
         
'can I use your French press?'