Page 31 of Flying

Utah was far more religious than I expected, so I headed to Vancouver. My hockey romance kick inspired me. I hoped to have my own meet-cute turned found family story, but all I got was completely triggered. It didn’t really click for me that hockey and romance together were a mirror for my first relationship when I got obsessed with reading on trend.

I was face-to-face with a man easily confused for Grant and unleashed years of resentment on this stranger. I miss my girls. I miss River. Instead, a grainy viral video was released as I was terminated and escorted out by security. Given the time of night and my blood alcohol level, I was only allowed in my room and to sober up and pack. I’m lucky Canadians are so nice.

The video quality was poor—thank goodness for bar lighting andmusic. You can barely make out the crying mess I was as I told off this poor guest. People weren’t sure if it was me or not. The virality only lasted a few days before the next thing took over. However, I won’t be able to stop hearing echoes of “Mid-tier fitness influencer Lily Long falls from grace and sponsorships are dropping faster than she can do damage control.”

My professional contacts have proven fairweather friends between the spill at Karma Fitness and the video. So I started from the bottom again. I’m doing a lot more desk work than usual, but can periodically substitute teaching classes. At least by being here, in Denver, there’s ample opportunity to hike with Pete, enjoy my favorite Wyld gummies, and explore the city.

This time being away isn’t making me feel more empowered and capable. Instead I’m feeling a sense of loss and longing. Weirdest of all, I keep thinking about New Jersey. It’s longing mixed with rage and resentment. Dorothea and I have discussed the ways that grief is not unique to death, and how after a very prolonged time being numb to it all the shock and grief were reignited for me.

Finally, she starts talking about what I’ve been wanting to know for certain.

“Lily, I’ve taken into account everything from our interactions the last few months and I agree that you are right to lean towards ADHD for yourself. I think that you developed a number of coping skills, like many young women do, that allowed you tomaskor hide the impact of your symptoms. Even if setting fire to Grant’s prized Wayne Gretzky autographed photo,” she grins a bit leadingly, “was beyond a fair exchange for infidelity, it was an extreme reaction.”

“You’ve been so dedicated to your mental health these years through your work, but visiting the environment where you were hurt reopened doors you thought were bolted shut. I think you are beyond capable of managing this, but I’ll be placing information of local physicians in your portal. I recommend considering a medication consult. Medicine is not the only way to manage your symptoms, but with the high-stress events coming up it would likely benefit you to consider them even as a temporary tool to enhance your success. It is a lot to think about, and please know while only you can decidewhat is best for you I am always here to discuss and work through the options as you examine them.”

It is exhausting and validating to find out. There are so many stories of my life that just seem to add up better in this framework. Adding in my preference for large, open, quiet places and big feelings, it truly comes together. The more I examine it all, even my preference for THC over alcohol is there: it helps to slow the anxiety, it allows me to eat when I forget, it brings my nervous system to neutral. Everything I’ve been drawn to is either a product of this wiring in my brain, or something those with it do constructively or destructively to themselves. I’ve become so lost in these thoughts I almost miss what she says next.

“Now, Lily, I know that your birthday is coming up. As is Christmas. What do you have planned?”

“I’m not sure, honestly, I’m so lost right now, I barely know where I am mentally. Physically, I’m in Denver. This city always grounds me a bit.”

“Okay Lily, I think it’s important that we remember days like these can be a trigger for big feelings. Your moves happened in part because of the incident in Vancouver. Anger deserves to be felt. When we try to keep it in, we become like a shaken up Coke bottle. The pressure will reach a tipping point and explode. Even if it is on the wrong person.”

“Like a greasy hair tattooed Canadian man?” I grumble.

“Exactly. Given the conversation on the train with Grant, do you have more you wanted to say to him?”

Shaking my head side to side, I acknowledge, “Sober me has nothing left to say.”

“Well, then. What about to your parents?”

She holds space for me to think. This is something I’m struggling with, the quiet. I’m used to trying to fill silences when with others but we’ve worked on allowing me to take my time. To not feel like I must rush the conversation to say it all.

Blinking, I ask, “What about them?”

“Well, let’s use the magic wand question. Tomorrow you wake up back in your hometown, you have a magic wand that allows you tosay anything you want to your parents. What do you say? And what happens after you say it?”

“I… I don’t know. I did find out by showing up in September there’s a chance the town will still want me to sit in those ankle stocks.” I blow out a puff of air, frustrated that this subject can’t just stay in the past.

“Lily, there's something I need to ask you, and please take this the right way.”

I’m nodding, waiting. Finally she asks me, “Is there really a stockyard in your hometown? So much of this sounds like a fever dream, I just worry that you may need someone you can see in person.”

Laughing, I open a screen share web browser and pull up our town's website. There on the homepage is a photo of town hall, a tiny red brick old church. There’s a golden peacock statue on a pillar and the pillory stocks. “These are made for holding ankles instead of the Salem, Massachusetts Puritan hands and head style. In the summer they let tourists use them for photos, but there is a giant lock on it overnight and the brass key comes out to make it usable each morning.”

Her face is a mix of shock and amusement, before she regains her usual composure.

“Alright, that’s… unique.” Adjusting her glasses she resumes, “Let’s plan for you to write a letter to your parents. Please do not send it. I’d like to discuss it with you during our next session. Usually the writing exercise is enough. Often, sending these words hurts more than helps. I like to frame this as: there are many things we need to say, but does the other person need to hear it?”

With those words of wisdom, we part for the week. Signing off there is so much on my mind, and I contemplate do I tell anyone? I don’t want to disturb Stef when there is a wedding to plan, Delia doesn’t usually do well with this sort of thing, and Nessa is a professional. I don’t need a second therapist. I need a friend. Looking down at my phone I sigh and debate telling River.

Lily:

I just got some news… I don’t know how I feel about it

River:

What’s up? I’m just in the office doing schedules, I can talk

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