Never Thought You’d Fall So Far, chapter 13, excerpt
“I am Felicity as Levi told you and as we spoke from the phone.” Her features were soft and kind. She did this gladly and I could tell she was exactly how Prof. Ackerman promised. “Pleased to meet you, and thank you for choosing me for this adventure of yours.” Her catty eyes shined with a playful gleam.
“But, of course. You won’t be the same after that. I mean you will of course still be you…with your values and your beliefs and everything that makes you...you. But, you will also have more tools in you. You will be able to control the greatest beast.” She paused.
I could see why Levi recommended her to me. They had the same theatricality in their way of speaking. Levi talked about dragons and she spoke of adventures and beasts.
“You know, Marco.” She continued. “In the years of my experience in this job, I find that it’s easier sometimes if you take it all a bit lighter. Like a fairytale or a game. It makes it easier for you and more bearable.”
“I can see why.” I admitted.
“Well, fairytales and adventures are taught to us from our childhood. We know that the hero always wins, no matter how badly the odds are against them. Therefore we name ourselves the hero of our own tale and we know we will win in the end. No matter how long this will take us. We will get there.” I still could not find the courage to look at her for long.
I could see her nodding “You get it.”
“So, Marco…from where would you like us to begin?”
And so I told her everything I had told Jean about my childhood and about my past troubles. I told her everything about Jean as well.
I was glad that our first session was two hours instead of the classic one-hour therapy because I couldn’t find myself to stop talking.
I was so anxious when I first arrived but now it was like I was talking to an old friend.
“So, why do you think all of this began? Do you think you know the root of these feelings?” she asked.
“During my life…” I paused. I knew what I wanted to say but I had to put it in the right words, to let it out of my chest in the right way.
She waited and I was glad.
I fidgeted with my hands and began again. “During my life, I was always dubbed as perfect. I was hearing it from everyone…my teachers, my friends, my family. Everyone.” I closed my eyes and inhaled sharply.
“At first, it made me really happy. I was perfect. Who wouldn’t be happy about that? I was perfect. I was accepted. I was helping others to reach perfection as well. I was whole.” I felt my lips trembling as I reminisced these times of my childhood.
Happier times. I thought to myself and my heart banged in my chest.
She slid a packet of tissues close to me, but I was not crying…I don’t think I was.
“But, then, when my first missteps came along, I was lost. Confused and stunned.” I looked at her, deep in her green shining eyes.
“I was perfect…how could I fail?” I asked her.
“How could I mess up?” I asked again as if I expected her to know the answer. She didn’t answer nor did she take her eyes from mine.
“It didn’t make any sense…It was like I was frozen inside my brain and forced to watch myself making mistakes and ruining things.” I sniffled as memories of me shouting to my mother came to my mind. Memories of me in my room crying, not being able to understand why I was acting like that. Why I was angry all the time.
“All I could whisper was ‘why’…” I tried to swallow but my throat felt sore as if I was screaming from the top of my lungs, so I decided against it.
“When you are told all your life how much perfect you are and then life happens…it really takes a toll on you, you know?” I frowned and rubbed my hands together. I felt so small. So vulnerable. Like a newborn infant.
But, she didn’t speak. So, my turn wasn’t over yet.
“You become hyper-aware of every little mistake that you make…Even if it is choosing the right words in a conversation or talking in the right tone to a stranger…”
“It’s…It’s a nightmare, really.”
“It’s like you are an exposed nerve in a world of constant stimulation. You could make a mistake anytime, at any place! Oh, maybe you already did while you were busy thinking all of these!” I huffed loudly and I felt the knot in my throat tightening again.
A glass of water was found next to me so I gulped some down. I needed air but water could make a do for now.
“And of course…” my voice sounded hoarse but I was on a rant now.
“You cannot let others know! They believe you are perfect, remember?? For some weird fucking reason, they don’t see your flaws, your imperfections, your mistakes.” I was angry and I could feel it boiling down in my stomach, aching in my heart.
“You…you persuaded them somehow that you are pure…and perfect.” I spat the last word as if it was poison.
“So, you gotta keep it that way…You have already disappointed yourself…You can’t afford to disappoint others as well…But, eventually…you do.”
“Cause all of this stress and anxiety of not making any mistake, they keep piling up inside of you and they take even uglier forms.” I bit my lip in embarrassment. I remembered my lashing outs, my fits of rage, my hoarse throat and me slamming my door.
I closed my eyes and tried to keep the memories away.
“God…I was so angry. So angry.” The word felt like a sin in my lips.
“To myself…Perhaps, I was angry with the others who burdened me with this perfection and their expectations...who wouldn’t let me be my own damn flawed self.”
Expectations go to hell. Or send you to it.
“But, I took the blame. Like I always do…So, I turned the anger to myself and began hating me with a burning passion. After all, I was my best critic…I was the only aware of my imperfections, so I was the only one able to beat myself up for it.” I breathed in and let myself feel the moment.
Those words have never been spoken to anyone before. Not even myself.
I felt so strange. Guilty, and yet lighter at the same time.
“I became a shell of myself. I was like a landmine, really. The wrong kind of pressure could make me erupt and when I did…it was ugly and messy.” My eyes stung but I carried on.
“I made my baby sister cry once…you can only imagine the self-loathing afterward.” This memory hurt me still.
“The ‘perfect’ label is a damn heavy burden to carry.”
“And a burden I don’t WANT to carry. I want to be me.” My voice cracked and I felt five again…searching for my mother and her embrace that could hide me from the world and its cruelty.
“My stubborn, flawed, imperfect self.” This sounded like a cry for help, and it was. “I want to be able to breathe again.”
There was a long pause, I think. But, again, she waited. I decided I really liked her for that.
“But people keep dubbing me as perfect and therefore the vicious circle carries on.” I chuckled with a sad smile.
“You know…sometimes I warn them. I tell them that I am not perfect and they shouldn’t believe I am, because they will be disappointed eventually.”
“Because I can’t bear to see the look people give to you when this realization hits them. And I know this kind of look much too well.”
“Much too well…I’ve seen it from everyone around me…Friends, family…Family…Fuck, that really messes you up.” I closed my eyes again for a moment before looking at her again.
“Hell, I’ve even seen this look from myself. It’s the look I was seeing in the mirror for all these years…”
Her question surprised me but I found myself answering with a smile “…Not anymore.”
I touched my cheek and found it wet. I didn’t even realize I was crying after all.
“Because of Jean?” she pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Yes. But, because of me as well. He would huff at me and shake his head if I dared to give him all the credit.” I chuckled and ruffled up my hair.
“You know…I believed that by saving the others I would atone for my own sins. I believed that by saving them I would prove to myself that I had some kind of worth. I believed that even if I sacrificed my own sanity or, well, whatever left of it, I would be a martyr lost in a good cause.”
“Cause what’s better than losing yourself to save another?”
There must be better causes then.
“But, of course, this battle with the demons of other people only added up to the battle with my own demons…”
“That…” I cracked my knuckles.
“Now, sometimes this old habit of mine comes up to my mind again and makes me wonder ‘Do I care enough about anyone anymore?’…”
“Do you know the answer?” she startled me and gave me an apologetic smile.
I returned the smile “No” I shook my head. “I didn’t know myself…but he whispered it to me one night…and I believed him.”
“He told me ‘Even by this thought you show you care…if it didn’t matter to you, your devious mind would let it drop.” I remembered this night fondly and I would treasure it forever.
“You care, Marco.’ He told me. ‘Still, you care so much…Having limits and protecting yourself in the process doesn’t mean that you don’t care…It means you learned to care about yourself as well.”
“He’s right you know.” Felicity tilted her head and rested it in her hand, looking at me fondly.
I didn’t want to. Not yet.
“He sounds lovely. He sounds exactly how a person by your side should be, and he sounds mature as well. I am glad you have him by your side, Marco.”
I only smiled in response. My eyes fixed on the clock behind her.
“Until next time, Marco, please remember: allow yourself to feel. Anything. It shows you are human. Whether it’s pain or sadness, anger or despair. It’s a feeling nonetheless. Don’t be ashamed of feeling.” Her eyes had such a soft look I felt like she spoke directly in my heart and in my brain. Soothing them, reassuring them that they did well. I did well.
“And like a physical wound, when you can locate the place from which it bleeds you can begin to heal it. Let yourself feel in order for you to let yourself heal.” She expected an answer I figured.
“Okay.” I smiled softly, truly meaning it, and I think she realized it too as she gave me a wide smile.
“Next week?” she got up and walked me to the door.
“Next week.” I promised and closed it behind me.
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