Page 47 of Revelry
“Kinda yeah. Normally the first session would just be an assessment of your background, symptoms, when it started etc. But I did that a couple of sessions ago in preparation.”
“You did what?”
“Yeah, don’t you remember all my questions and your growly responses?”
My eyes bugged at him. “You lied about what it was for! You said it was a requirement of therapy!”
He shrugged. “It was, so that’s not a lie. It’s a requirement of ERP.”
I stared at him, flabbergasted. “How am I meant to trust you when you’ve lied to me? Multiple times?”
“I don’t know, Tate.” He cocked his head, narrowing his stare. “How about all the times you’ve lied to me?”
“That is…” My indignation trailed off.
He arched a brow. “Different?”
Sometimes, I really hated Neil. With his questions and logic.
“Fine, we’ve lied to each other. But no more, we need to build trust.”
Neil regarded me gently, nodding. “Yes, we do. You knew what I was like when you first started seeing me. I wouldn’t coddle you and I’d push your boundaries.”
“I know,” I whined, like a moody teenager. “So now what do we do?”
“We need to make a list of triggers for your OCD, the smallest to biggest. But first, let’s start with why you needed an extrasession when your next one is in a week’s time. What happened that you couldn’t wait?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, my pulse pounding because I knew exactly what had triggered me and I didn’t want to talk about it for fear that I would spiral all over again.
“I, uh, saw my dad.”
Neil clucked his tongue and shook his head.
“And his kids.”
“You’re his kid too, you know.”
I snorted. “Not like they are.”
“Because he chose them and not you?”
I shoved my hands on my hips and squeezed hard. A slight jerk of my head.
“Then what happened?”
“I was with a…friend…and then after seeing them, I just spiraled. My obsessions got out of hand, all I could focus on was how imperfect the house was, how imperfect I was. I needed to tidy and straighten and make everything neat and perfect. And I haven’t…I haven’t been able to stop the impulses since.” I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “And I hurt her. I scared her and I can’t let that happeneveragain.”
“Tate, please sit,” Neil gestured towards the couch.
I made my way to it and sat down. But it didn’t feel quite right, I didn’t sit down how I normally did. So I stood up and then sat down, slightly slower, like I thought I usually did but it still felt off. I stood again, slapped the cushion around a little to plump it up and then settled again.
It didn’t feel right but it was better than nothing and my cheeks flamed as Neil assessed me over the rim of his glasses.
“I think we know what your biggest trigger is, so why don’t we start with that and work our way backwards to create your exposure hierarchy.”
I rubbed my hands on my thighs, my palms damp from even mentioning my father and my feelings towards him.
“I think mess is probably a big one, I know you struggle with mess.”
