Better Than This

by Cathy Zane

  “Sarah?” A woman in business-casual attire greeted her. Sarah guessed she was in her mid-forties.

  Sarah nodded.

  The woman reached out her hand. “I’m Monica Richardson. It’s good to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” Sarah managed to say as she extended her hand to Monica.

  “Right this way,” Monica said, motioning her forward and moving back through the door. Sarah followed her down a hall and into a well-lit and nicely decorated office. There was a simple but elegant writer’s desk sitting at a diagonal in one corner and a sofa and oversized upholstered chair on the other side of the room. Several abstract modern paintings in muted colors decorated the walls. Windows lined one side, opening the room to the canopy of lush green foliage outside.

  Monica motioned to the sofa. “Have a seat,” she said to Sarah as she sat down in the adjacent chair. Sarah sat down tentatively on the edge of the sofa. She didn’t want to be here. She needed a way out. Maybe she could just tell her it was a mistake to have come, apologize, pay her for the session, and leave.

  “You know,” Sarah said, “I feel a little silly being here. I’ve had a rough time recently and a friend thought it was a good idea, but I’m okay. I’m not really sure I need this.” You are so full of shit. You can’t even get out of bed. You scream at Lizzy. You can’t get anything done.

  “Well, Sarah,” Monica said warmly, “I don’t know if you need this or not, but since you are here, maybe you’d be willing to tell me a little about what’s been going on.”

  Sarah’s throat tightened and tears sprang into her eyes. “Sure,” she squeezed out. She settled back into the sofa, swallowing hard and blinking to try to keep herself from crying. “Although I’m not really sure where to begin.”

  Monica leaned forward slightly. “Why don’t you start with what you are feeling right now?” she said as she picked up a box of Kleenex and handed it to Sarah. “What are the tears about?”

  For the next thirty minutes, Sarah reviewed the past several weeks, pausing at times to cry more deeply, to blow her nose, or to compose herself. Monica listened attentively, and Sarah increasingly found herself feeling more at ease as she spoke. She was surprised that her words poured out so effortlessly. When she finally finished the story, she looked at the pile of Kleenex on the table in front of her and suddenly felt self-conscious. What are you doing? Why did you tell her all that? A complete stranger. She probably thinks you’re totally nuts. You never should have come. This was a huge mistake.

  Exhaustion took hold, sudden and complete. Sarah shifted uncomfortably and looked at Monica.

  “What are you feeling right now?” Monica asked.

  “Tired.”

  “You’ve been through a lot in the past couple weeks. It makes sense that you’re tired.”

  “I just want to go to sleep and forget everything.”

  “That’s completely understandable. You’ve suffered some big losses. It’s hard to make sense of it all.”

  Sarah nodded. “I just feel so lost. And I have thoughts sometimes that scare me. Like I’ll never get better and there’s no point in going on.”

  “That’s the grief talking,” Monica said. “It may not seem like it right now, but you won’t always feel this way.”

  Anger replaced exhaustion. This woman was just like everyone else. She didn’t understand. She didn’t have a clue what she was feeling. Coming here was a total waste of time and money. It wasn’t going to help her at all.

  “What’s going on for you right now?” Monica asked, breaking the silence.

  Sarah shrugged dismissively. Oh my God, is that all she ever says? She’s like a fucking robot or something. Why should you tell her anything? She wouldn’t get it. Sarah had no desire to even try to talk to her.

  “I ask because I noticed a subtle change. You seemed less sad and perhaps a little angry,” Monica said.

  Sarah looked away. Of course she was angry. She was tired of everyone telling her how she should feel—that she should get over this. And now this strange woman was just staring at her, expecting her to say something. The silence was unnerving.

  “I hate when people say things like that,” she said without meeting Monica’s gaze. “‘Things will get better. This too shall pass.’ It’s all bullshit.”

  “So, when I said you wouldn’t always feel this way, you felt angry because I was just giving you the same line of bullshit that everyone else has been feeding you.”

  At this, Sarah looked at Monica. “Yes! I felt like you didn’t understand what I was going through.”

  “Well, in some ways you’re right. I can’t ever fully know what you are going through. Everyone’s experience of loss is uniquely their own. So I’ll depend on you to tell me that.” Monica leaned forward slightly. “What I do know is that there are stages of grief that are very universal. Different individuals have different time frames, but slowly, that grief does begin to resolve.”

  “How?” Sarah asked. Part of her was still screaming at herself to get the hell out of there, but she pushed the voice away. Some of what Monica was saying seemed to make some sense. Maybe she should hear her out.

  “With time,” Monica said. “And with the hard work of feeling all of the emotions that come with grieving.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I’m up to that.”

  “You’re not. Not yet. First we need to do some simple things to get you stronger.”

  “Like what?” Sarah was afraid of what Monica was going to say next.

  “I’d like you to start adhering to some simple routines every day,” Monica said. “Would you be willing to try that?”

  Sarah hesitated. “I guess. What do you mean by routines?”

  “I’d like you to stay out of your bed except to sleep at night. Get up, shower, dress, have breakfast, and take Lizzy to school. Does that sound doable?”

  “I guess so,” Sarah said, not at all sure that she was telling the truth. “I just get so tired.”

  “I know. You’ll probably still need some naps, but just don’t go back to bed. You could sit in a chair or lie down on the sofa instead. And you should set an alarm so you don’t sleep more than an hour at a time during the day. Do you think that could work?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You sound like you aren’t really sure. Should we come up with a different idea?”

  Sarah shook her head. “No. I can give it a try.”

  “Okay.” Monica tilted her head as if considering her options. “Also, do you have friends who could do something with you during the day? Maybe take a walk or go for coffee?”

  Sarah nodded. “Yeah.” She knew Kate would do that. And probably Maggie, too, after school was out.

  “Great. So, I’d like you to try to do at least one thing out of the house with a friend each day. What do you think?”

  Sarah nodded, feeling slightly more confident. “Sure, I can do that.”

  “Good. That will be your homework for the week.” Monica smiled. “We are almost out of time, but I want to check in before we end. When we started today, you weren’t sure you wanted or needed to be here. I think a lot of what you are feeling is very normal given all that has happened. And I’m also confident that you can move through this and feel better. I’d be happy to support you to do that, but I want to be sure that you would like to continue here.”

  Sarah thought for a moment. She still felt foolish being there, but she had to admit that she also felt a little better. It felt good to have a plan that might help her start to feel better. And she felt comfortable with Monica.

  “Maybe we could meet again and see how it goes,” Sarah said.

  “That sounds fine to me,” Monica said. She reached for her appointment book. “We can schedule an appointment for next week.”

  As she left Monica’s office, Sarah thought back over the past hour. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d liked Monica and was glad she’d come. After being near panic in the waiting room, she now felt calm. And
a little more hopeful. She wanted to feel better, and Monica seemed confident that she would.

  She drove to Kate’s to pick up Lizzy. As she pulled into the driveway, gratitude for all Kate and Maggie had been doing flooded through her. They’d both gone out of their way to help and she’d been such a pill, wallowing in self-pity and not showing any thankfulness. She was lucky they hadn’t dumped her by now. She promised herself she would do better. And she could start by apologizing to Kate now.

  She had barely pressed the doorbell when Lizzy and Emma threw the door open.

  “Come see what we made,” Emma said, waving for Sarah to follow.

  “Yeah,” Lizzy said, grabbing Sarah’s hand and pulling. “Come see!”

  Sarah smiled when she saw the huge fort that had been constructed in the living room. Dining room chairs had been strategically placed in the middle of the room to hold up the sheets and blankets that were draped over the sofa and chairs.

  “Look inside!” Lizzy pulled Sarah down to the floor in front of the opening. Sarah peeked in through the gap in the sheets to see a string of small white Christmas lights wound around the perimeter and a dozen pillows piled up to create two cocoon beds. The rest of the floor space was covered with stuffed animals of all sizes and shapes.

  “Wow!” Sarah said. “What a cool fort. Did you do all this by yourselves?”

  “Yep! ’Cept Mommy helped with the lights,” Emma said looking over at Kate, who had just come into the room carrying a plate of cut-up apples and string cheese.

  “And a little with the blankets, ’cause they kept falling down,” Lizzy said.

  “Well you did a great job,” Sarah said. “It looks really cozy in there!”

  “It does,” Kate said. “So why don’t you both crawl in there and I’ll hand you your snack?”

  The girls quickly slithered into the fort. Kate handed them the plate and turned to Sarah. “How about some coffee or a cup of tea?”

  “A cup of tea sounds great.” She followed Kate back to the kitchen.

  “How did the session go?” Kate asked as she filled the teapot and turned on the stove. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “No, not at all. It was good, I think. I was freaking out a bit in the waiting room and came really close to bolting. I seriously think if she’d come out to get me a minute later, I would’ve been gone. But she was easy to talk to once I got going, and by the time we were done I felt a little better.”

  “Well that sounds positive,” Kate said.

  Sarah nodded. “Yeah. She said that a lot of what I’m feeling seems normal considering all that’s happened. It helped to hear that. Honestly, I felt like I was totally losing it and never going to get better. I feel bad that I’ve been so out of it. You and Maggie have been great . . . I’m sorry I’ve been such a mess.”

  “Sarah, don’t talk that way,” Kate said. “You’re not a mess. You’re just grieving and adjusting to some big losses all at once.”

  “That’s just what Monica said.”

  “Well, there you go! She must be a smart therapist! So, you’ll see her again?”

  “Yeah. I have another appointment in a week,” Sarah said. “And I have homework! I didn’t know therapists gave homework!”

  Kate laughed. “What kind of homework?”

  “It’s sort of silly,” Sarah said. “Basically, to get up every day, take Lizzy to school, and not go back to bed. And she wants me to get out of the house and do something with a friend every day.”

  “I was thinking about that myself! You should come back to yoga. I could pick you up for a morning class while the girls are in school, and then we could get some lunch afterwards.”

  Sarah hesitated. She wasn’t sure she wanted to commit to yoga every day. “I don’t know. I don’t want to put you out.”

  “It’s not putting me out at all. I want to go too. It’ll be good for both of us.”

  “Well, I guess I could try it out.” She really wasn’t sure. She still felt so tired. Yoga might be too much. She decided to go once and see. If it felt too hard, she could always bail.

  “Great!” Kate said. “We’ll start tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at nine thirty.”

  Chapter 18

  Sarah proudly reported to Monica the next week that she’d followed through with her homework. It hadn’t been easy. She still felt sad most of the time and needed afternoon naps every day, but she’d gone to yoga every morning with Kate.

  “I’m really glad to hear that,” Monica said. “Yoga was a great choice. And what a great effort on your part to go every day.”

  “Well, to be honest, it really wasn’t my choice or my effort. Kate suggested it. I tried to get out of it a couple of times, but she wouldn’t let me.”

  Monica smiled. “She sounds like a good friend.”

  Sarah nodded. “Yeah, she is. She’s helped me so much lately. And as hard as it is to motivate myself to go, I know the yoga is helping. I always feel better afterward.”

  “That’s good. My guess is that each day you’ll continue to feel a little better,” Monica said. “Do you think you can keep doing it next week?”

  Sarah smiled. “I don’t think I have a choice. Kate is totally obsessed.”

  Monica laughed. “Well, I’m glad you have such a dedicated friend!” She squinted a little, as if sizing Sarah up. “I’d like to try something a little different today. Would that be okay with you?”

  “Uh, I guess so,” Sarah said. Her stomached clenched with anticipation. She didn’t really want to do anything more. She was just starting to feel a little better. Why couldn’t she just keep doing what she was doing? What was Monica going to ask? What if she didn’t want to do it?

  Monica frowned slightly. “You’re thinking maybe it’s too soon?”

  “Well, sort of. I guess.”

  “You’d probably rather just keep doing what you are doing for now.”

  “Yeah,” Sarah said. “How did you know?”

  Monica smiled. “Just a guess.”

  “I mean, I’m still so tired,” Sarah said, trying to backpedal. “I just don’t want to overdo it.”

  “Good. I’m glad you’re checking in with yourself to see what you’re feeling.”

  Sarah wasn’t so sure. Maybe she was just scared. Or depressed. Or both. “I’m still having a hard time knowing what I’m feeling most of the time.”

  “That’s understandable,” Monica said. “And I don’t want to push you if you don’t feel ready.”

  Sarah was struggling inside. She felt nervous about adding more to her plate. Sure, she’d gotten through last week, but it hadn’t been easy. On the other hand, she had to admit that Monica’s suggestions had helped so far. And now she was really curious.

  “What was it that you were going to suggest?” she asked.

  “Actually,” Monica said, “I wanted you to try a simple visualization process.”

  Sarah’s eyebrows drew together. She wasn’t sure what Monica meant.

  “I wanted to ask you to remember a time when you weren’t depressed—when you were happy or excited about life.”

  “Right now, I don’t feel like I was ever happy.”

  “I know,” Monica said. “But we both know that you have been. Maybe when Lizzy was born?”

  Sarah thought back for a moment. “Yes and no. It was mixed. Robert was very indifferent so it was actually kind of a lonely time for me.”

  “Okay, so keep thinking,” Monica said. “Think about a time when you felt truly happy. Try to visualize where you were, who you were with, what you were doing.”

  Sarah closed her eyes and sat quietly, letting her mind wander. Finally, she shifted in her seat and opened her eyes. “College,” she said. “I was really happy my junior year of college. I had a great boyfriend. I loved my upper-level lit classes. And my writing . . . I loved writing. It seems silly now, but I even had fantasies of being a writer.”

  Monica shook her head. “It doesn’t seem silly. It sounds like somethin
g you were passionate about.”

  Sarah nodded. “It was. I still think about it sometimes. But I really don’t have the time with Lizzy and work.”

  “Well, right now you have time, since you’re off work for a while.”

  “I don’t know . . .” It had been so long since she’d written anything. What if she had forgotten how? Lost her touch?

  “Would you be willing to try it between now and when we meet again?”

  Sarah thought for a moment. She did want to write again. But she felt scared. “I guess I could try . . .”

  “That’s all I’m asking. Just give it a try. Block out thirty minutes a day to write. Don’t worry about the content or whether it’s any good or not. Nobody but you will ever have to see it. Just let it be fun.”

  Sarah thought for a moment. She liked the idea that she’d never have to show it to anyone. If it was awful, she could just throw it away. “Okay, I’ll try.”

  “Good.” Monica stood up. “I know everything still feels difficult right now, but think about how you feel today compared to last week. Each week will get a little better. Just keep focusing on Lizzy and your day-to-day activities for now.”

  “Okay.” Sarah extended her hand to Monica. “Thank you.”

  “You are very welcome.” Monica took Sarah’s hand in both of hers. “I look forward to seeing you next week.”

  Sarah ripped the page out of her notebook, crumpled it up in a loose ball, and tossed it onto the floor. She had been trying for an hour to write something at least marginally readable and she felt like screaming. All she wanted to write was “fuck this shit” over and over, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t what Monica had in mind. She wasn’t ready for this. Monica was wrong. She shouldn’t have told her to do this. It was making her feel worse. She’d had so many dreams of writing again, but clearly that ship had sailed. You’re such an idiot, thinking you could write. You obviously can’t. Robert was right. It was just a stupid pipe dream. The sooner you recognize that, the better.

  Sarah looked around at the crumpled papers scattered on the floor in front of her chair. She felt hopeless. She wanted to just go crawl into bed. To hell with Monica’s rules. Who was she to tell her what to do? She uncrossed her legs and pushed up out of the chair. She dropped the notebook onto the floor and kicked angrily at the pile of crumpled pages—and connected with the leg of the coffee table. Pain shot through her big toe and she dropped to the floor to grab it, tears bursting into her eyes. She felt scared and little and alone. She wanted to be held, to feel safe, to know that everything would be okay. A child’s voice inside her cried out, I want my mommy. Why did she leave me? Why didn’t she love me? Sarah’s tears turned into sobs that racked her entire body until she was so exhausted that she lay down on the floor and fell into a deep sleep.