I once asked my mother what was the first lie I told. She looked at me strangely, paused only for a second, and then she softly answered,
“Hun, I asked you what you thought of daddy and his paintings. I think you said you didn’t like them. Funny thing is when I tried to take one of his paintings away; you fought and screamed with all your might. You also cried and bagged me to give it back.” She had this distant look on her face.
” Finally, after I had enough of your tantrum, I gave it back and later that evening I saw it in the trash can, beneath all the garbage.” After that that day, my mother and I didn’t talk much about my father; still don’t. I really don’t remember that happening, but I do remember the pained look she had on her face after she had finished talking.
A pause.
“So? What does that have to do with the current you?” asked my therapist. Her name is Melina Biding. She is being paid to fix me, or at least that’s the way I see it. But what’s there to fix?
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “You’re the therapist so you should know why.” I looked at her straight in the eye, daring her to give me an answer. Truth be told, I really didn’t know why I had brought up such a distant memory. She had asked if there was ever a person who had changed me, and that situation had popped up.
“Elizabeth, the idea of this session is to-“and this is the part where I zone out. I looked over to my right at the clock and checked what time it was. 2:45 in the afternoon. Fifteen more minutes until I was finally free.
“Are you listening to what I’m saying, Elizabeth?” Of course I wasn’t listening to what she was saying but I guess some people can’t tell by looking at others faces.
“Huh?” I must play dumb for now. She would just tell my mother that I needed to come back next Sunday for another session. Melina would write down other meaningless things about me in her clipboard, and then come to a reasonable conclusion as to why I draw the things I draw.
“If you want results then you must accept my help, “she sighed softly. I wanted to correct her and say it was my mother who wanted result not me. Then that would probably get me another three sessions with her, which is why I kept my mouth shut for about three seconds.
“Aren’t I supposed to tell you how I feel and then you find out what’s wrong with me,” I asked a little aggravated. To waste an hour of my life, so my mother could figure out what’s wrong with me, made me a little angry.
“Elizabeth, please try to-“she began to say but was interrupted by the timer on the clock. Finally, I was free to leave. I began to get up and grabbed my purse.
“Remember next Sunday you must come an hour earlier. I have more clients than usual next week.”I paused for a while and then looked at her. My mouth opened on its own without my consent and was let loose.
“He loved black and white paintings. That’s why I never paint with those two colors,” I really have no idea what made me say something so meaningless to her. I knew that was an error in my part, because this would probably get me a few more sessions with her, but she wanted me to accept her help. When I looked at her, she had this gentle expression and a smile on her face.
I left her office with this unsettling feeling in my stomach. I had exposed myself to her by stating such simple statements. I suddenly realized maybe my mother wasn’t the only one who wanted results.
