Second group is the worst; there aren’t that many of us so one of the counselors are sure to try and make you talk. Some days I just don’t feel like it; like a little kid I am resentful and want to pout in the corner. I notice that I move around in my seat a lot…around here that’s a sign of anxiety and I’m supposed to be super aware of it so I can try and bring it down. Sometimes it even works. I jiggle my leg so fast that the counselor sitting next to me places a hand on my shoulder to get me to stop. I am certain that this will go in my chart somewhere: “client has restless leg and is obviously completely crazy”.
Yesterday my mom called me crying. She’s worried about me. The only way I can show her that I’ll be okay is by being okay. Time is not my friend; right now she only has the past to go on. All of my communication skills go out the window; I get defensive and cry back at her. We are both worried about the same things, just in different ways. I hate disappointing her. I want to tell her it will be alright, but she wouldn’t believe me anyway. I miss being her baby.