A Life: Aimless

The room was dead quiet. A void of noises, allowing anyone to hear the faintest bit of breathing from whoever chooses to inhale. It was a therapist’s office. The theme was warm beige, from the carpets to the walls, everything was meant to relax you. Books lined the shelves, mentioning self-help and guidance. Dr. Griffin adjusted herself in her chair. She owned this very office, keeping it nice and tidy for her clients. She was an older woman in her late forties, fit with a brown blazer, matching skirt, and white shirt.

Her eyes darted to her client. A pale, broken-looking man. His dirty wolf cut almost covered his face. His gaze only met her for a moment before looking down. He hated eye contact. Made him feel nervous. He despised being watched. But he had to be here, after all, Tiffany asked him to be here. He hated breaking promises. They were silent for a long time, letting the dead air have their conversations before Griffin finally broke it.

“Mr. White?”

His ears perked at the sound of his last name. It repeated over and over in his head. White. White. White. His eyes met hers. “Yes?”

“You seemed to have spaced out for a moment. Did you remember the question I asked?”

“No.”

“I asked how were you feeling? It’s been a few weeks since we last talked, and I know you struggled a bit with adjusting after coming home. But you’re doing much better now.”

He grits his teeth at the thought. Being home made things worse. The army didn’t do shit for him. He hated the world for betraying him. He thought he could make a difference. All he got was a bullet to the shoulder and two lifetimes of trauma not even Griffin can unpack. If he told her what he really thought, he’d be in a mental institution for the rest of his days. “I don’t feel that way.”

“Well,” Griffin asked after writing something down. “Why is that, Jackie?”

“I feel stuck. You know what it’s like to feel like a tool? Like someone is using you for their own benefit? I grew up knowing how to say yes. I was a fucking yes man. Father told me to jump, I said how high. Mother was the same way. Every time I felt like saying no, she’d tell me how ungrateful I was.” Jackie paused for a moment to reach into his jacket pocket to grab his packet of cigarettes. He glanced at her for silent permission. She nodded. He popped the stick in his mouth and lit it, blowing smoke out of frustration. “Me? Ungrateful? Fuck off.”

“Do you resent your parents?”

“Kinda. There's a reason we don’t talk so much anymore. They were a pain in my ass. They were the only people I’d talk to constantly, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

Griffin jotted down more notes, adjusting her glasses. “You said you joined the army at 18?”

Jackie nodded.

“Fought in Iraq?”

Jackie nodded.

“Honorably discharged?”

Jackie nodded.

“You hated your time there as well, correct?”

Jackie nodded.

“It seems to me you don’t like authority. It’s understandable. It’s not fun being bossed around. You’re stationed in Africa for a bit then you’re ordered to fight a war. That won’t be good for anyone. Maybe that’s why you’re finding it hard to open up to me. You see me as someone with power, right?”

Jackie grunted, not exactly disagreeing.

“Can you explain to me what’s your problem with authority?”

“They fail people.”

Griffin was expecting more, but Jackie smoked, looking up at the ceiling. She cleared her throat before continuing. “...Well. I assure you that I’ll do my best not to fail you. I know that in your environment, institutions fail you. The army, the government, the police. But I promise you there are people and organizations who want to see you thrive here. It’s New York, you’ll be bound to have someone who’s in your shoes. It’s easier said than done, but I want you to have trust in people again. Let’s end the session for today. We can meet anytime, just give me a call, ok?”

“Yep.”