Page 24 of The Plus One
Indira fiddled with the hem of her shirt, the silence in the room crushing her as doubts circled around her shoulders.
“I sometimes wonder how I’m allowed to be a psychiatrist when I still carry all of these issues,” she whispered, giving words to the fear that kept her up at night. The same one she’d tiptoed around at her last session. It pissed her off that she wasn’t magically over this fear. “How can I be this damaged and still help people?”
The silence stretched until Indira thought she would snap from it. Finally, Dr. Koh cleared her throat. “Indira, you’re self-aware, and that alone is half the battle.”
Indira made a dismissive noise.
Dr. Koh leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. “If you’re open to it, would you hear me out on something?”
Indira opened her mouth, but that question seemed a bit like a therapeutic trap. She opted for a shrug.
“You are incredibly early in your career, and doubt is a near-universal feeling, especially in those first few years. Offer yourself some grace as you navigate this new role.”
Indira stared down at her lap.
“There’s also this huge misconception,” Dr. Koh continued, “thatpsychiatrists and any other mental health professionals are ideally self-aware and have perfect coping strategies and practices for every situation and have overcome all of their trauma and never crumble. That’s a ridiculous standard to be placed on anyone, regardless of profession.
“We struggle too. We hurt. We handle situations badly or get depressed or anxious or anything else. We’re all flawed. Your emotional struggles as a human are not a moral judgment of your worth, and they’re not a reflection on your ability to help others.”
Indira stared at Dr. Koh.
“Sitting with these feelings is a great place to start with healing from them.”
“I hate sitting with my feelings,” Indira mumbled. She thought back to all the times she’d told her patients the same exact phrase and wondered how much they had despised her and her advice in those moments.
“If sitting with them were comfortable, we wouldn’t let them fester until they infected our hearts and our heads. But we avoid. We throw ourselves into work or vices or others because it’s easier to focus on those things than our own hurt.”
“That, unfortunately, makes too much sense for me to argue.”
“I think that’s what they refer to as a breakthrough,” Dr. Koh said, her lips tipping up.
Indira blinked at her, then busted out laughing. “Dr. Koh, was that a joke?”
Dr. Koh was fully grinning now. “I’ve been known to make them from time to time.”
Indira continued to giggle. Humor might be one of the most healing aspects of therapy.
“Do you think it’s possible for you to view Jude as an acquaintance or even a friend?” Dr. Koh asked, redirecting. “Instead of as some sort of childhood adversary?”
“Do I have to?” Indira asked impertinently.
Another laugh. Indira was on a roll today.
“You don’t have to do anything,” Dr. Koh said. “But if you’re going to be forced to see him until the end of this wedding, living in the same house as him even, perhaps it might be easier to sit with your emotions if you two can find level ground. Maybe even open up a dialogue to some of the emotions and worry you’re experiencing.”
Indira shrugged. That also, unfortunately, made sense.
“This week,” Dr. Koh continued, “if I can encourage you to do anything, it’s to sit with whatever emotions come up. Trace their source like a map in your body. Let them burn until they snuff out, if you’re able.”
Well, that sounded awful. But Indira nodded, blowing her nose one last time before gathering herself and leaving the office.
Out on the street, she caught herself trying to shake off all the feelings, all the pain that hovered on her shoulders like she always did after sessions. And she stopped. She felt the hurt, the heavy weight in her chest.
And, for once, she let it be.
CHAPTER 10
Jude
