“That’s right, but Ethan, I think it would be best if you let her call you. Be patient with her, she doesn’t know what’s going on here, and we don’t know what she’s going through there. She needs to focus on her,” Dana said.
I nodded. We finished eating and took the girls to Dana’s. I felt a lot better on the way back to The Lock than I had on the way down to the city. As soon as I got in my house, I replied to Gia’s email. I’d let her call me, like Dana suggested, but I had to respond to her letter at least. I wanted her to know how I felt as soon as she was able.
Chapter 15
Gia
As the short, portly woman led me to my private room, she explained some of what I could expect there in the next thirty days. I tried to stay calm, but I kept looking behind me, hoping to see someone, anyone, coming to pull me out of there. I felt like I’d done something wrong, something to be ashamed of, punished for. No one ever emerged. I was on my own.
When she opened my door, I was pleasantly surprised. My room was pale blue, with a white bed, dresser, and night stand. My little closet had white shutter-type doors, and my bedspread was white with little blue butterflies. I liked it, and I felt like I could be comfortable there.
“You have one hour to put your things away and get settled before your first session,” June said. “Feel free to walk around and become familiar with your new home. Your schedule is in the packet on your bed, along with a map of the facility and other frequently asked questions.”
I nodded. “Thank you, June.” She smiled and left.
I unpacked and started reading through the packet. The map was overwhelming. There were so many different areas with wings and meeting rooms. It looked confusing. I was in the women only wing. There were a dozen or so rooms the size of mine on the map. Then there were therapy, counseling, and meeting rooms, along with massage, acupuncture, and meditation areas.
I looked at my schedule. Wake up during the week was at six a.m. and the day was packed full until lights out at eleven p.m. Wake up on the weekend was nine a.m., and there was more free time on those days. I noticed the family visit time on Sundays, and wondered if I’d have any visitors while I was there. Maybe Sean would come if I asked him to, being as he was the only person I knew in the area.
I took my map and headed to my first therapy session. It was easy to find since it was just down the hall. The door was open when I approached it, so I peeked inside. There was a woman, about my age, with long dark hair and black rimmed glasses, sitting at the desk. She looked up and smiled when she saw me.
“Gia?” she asked.
I stepped in. “Yes,” I said.
She held her hand out. “Gia, it’s good to meet you. I’m Laura, your counselor.”
“Hi, Laura.” I shook her hand. She was pretty, in a bookish sorta way. Kind of like a sexy librarian.
She asked me to sit as she walked over and closed the door. She didn’t waste any time with chit chat or talking about the weather. “Gia, why are you here?”
“Um, well, I’ve been depressed for a while. I’ve had several miscarriages, resulting in a failed marriage, a suicide attempt, feelings of worthlessness, nightmares, anxiety, and utter confusion.” I could’ve added several other things to that list, but I was sure she got the picture.
“Interesting. You think your failed marriage was a result of the miscarriages. Do you really believe that, Gia?”
What was she talking about? Of course it was. “Yes.” I nodded.
“Why?” I had a feeling I’d better get used to this question.
“My husband wanted a family more than anything. He couldn’t handle it when he realized I couldn’t give that to him. They were hard on our marriage, the miscarriages, and we grew apart.”
“How did it make you feel when you realized you couldn’t carry a child and give him the family he wanted more than anything?”
I looked down at my hands. “It made me feel like a failure, like I let him down, like I was broken inside—which I was—am.”
“How did he react to the miscarriages?”
“He cried and cried, for two days, after the first one. After the second one, he looked at me differently, like he suspected I’d done something wrong. Then, after the third, it was like he died inside, and I could see the disappointment and hatred when he looked at me.” I took a deep breath.
“What did he do for you while you were recuperating?”
I looked up at her. “What do you mean?” I didn’t understand what she wanted.
“What did he do to help you get through the loss you’d had?”
I thought for a while. All I remembered him doing was crying and talking about what I’d need to do differently the next time, so that’s what I told her.
“Do you feel responsible for the miscarriages?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“Because it was my body that rejected them. It was because I hadn’t taken care of myself like I should’ve.” Tears were streaming down my face. I took a Kleenex from the box on her desk.
“Who told you that?”
“I don’t know if anyone did. It’s the facts.” She was getting on my nerves.
“Isn’t it true, Gia, that your recurrent miscarriages were caused by an abnormality of your uterus?”
“Well, yes, but if I would’ve taken better care of myself, and been extra careful, maybe I could’ve carried the babies.” I remembered Lex telling me that.
“No, Gia, you couldn’t have.” She said it like she knew it to be a fact. I was starting to get angry.
“Maybe,” I said.
“No, Gia, not unless you had it surgically corrected. Did you have it surgically corrected?”
“No. I didn’t find out about that until later.” About a year ago, I’d had a hysterectomy because of cysts, and my gynecologist discovered the divided uterus.
“Did you do something to cause the abnormality?”
What is wrong with her? “No, I was born with it.” She should’ve known that.
“So, I’ll ask you again, do you feel responsible for the miscarriages?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
It felt like déjà vu, we had that exact conversation four times until I got it. I finally got it! No matter how well I took care of myself, or how careful I was, there was no chance I could’ve carried a baby. Holy Shit! When she asked me again if I felt responsible, I said no. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and I’d only been there for two hours!
“Good job today, Gia.” Laura smiled at the wonder on my face. “We’ve got our work cut out for us. You’re not going to like me at times. It’s going to hurt—a lot, at times—but in the end it’ll all be worth it. I’m excited for you! You’re going to be a new woman when you walk out of here in a month. In fact, the transformation has already begun, how do you feel?”
“Relieved.” I smiled.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Gia.”
I went back to my room and splashed some water on my face. I was exhausted. I looked at my schedule. Lunch was in fifteen minutes, and then study group, whatever that was. I wandered around until I found the dining room. It was beautiful. There were two huge tables, each looked to hold about a dozen people. I wondered if everyone had a certain seat they always sat in. I decided to wait until everyone had come in and picked their spot before I sat.
I wandered around the room aimlessly. I felt alone and uncomfortable as I anticipated the arrival of my new housemates. I wanted them to like me. I felt like I was ten years old, and it was my first day in a new school. I took a deep breath and thought about Sean. He’d surely know how to make me feel more confident. He’d probably say something like, “Gia, of course they’re going to like you. What’s not to like? You’re beautiful, smart, funny, and you could eat your way out of a corn maze.” I chuckled to myself.
“Hi,” I heard a sweet voice say, “I’m Brynn.” There was a tiny little thing in front of me, rea
ching out to shake my hand. She was blonde, cute, probably weighed a hundred pounds, if that, had big blue eyes, and a welcome smile.
“Hi Brynn, I’m Gia.” I shook her little hand.
“Welcome, Gia. Would you like to sit next to me for lunch? I know how hard the first few days can be, but it gets easier, I promise.” She sat and I sat next to her.
“Thank you, Brynn. I wasn’t sure if there was designated seating.” I was relieved that such a friendly girl had come in first.
“Most people do sit in the same spot every meal, but this seat has actually been empty for a week or two, so now it can be yours, if you want it.” She talked very softly. It was soothing.
“I appreciate that.” I smiled at her.
As the women entered the room, Brynn introduced each of them to me. I thought it was very sweet of her, and it made me feel much more relaxed. There were only eleven of us total, so we didn’t even spill over to the other table. I guessed Brynn to be the youngest one there, she looked to be in her early twenties, and I guessed Paula to be the oldest, she looked to be in her mid-sixties. We were a diverse group. We had several different nationalities, races, looks and demeanors. I was curious about each of their stories, and hoped I’d make friends with them all.
We were served our lunch, which surprised me. I guess I’d pictured a line, like I’d seen on TV in some jail or something. I tried to get it out of my mind that this was some kind of punishment for bad behavior, but I must’ve been seeing it that way in my mind for some time, because I kept relating the two. We had chicken stir fry, with a garden salad and white cake for dessert. I tasted everything and it was very good, but I didn’t have much of an appetite for once. I thought of everything I’d eaten in the last couple of days with Sean, and was surprised I could even look at food. I smiled when I thought of him.
The women were pretty quiet. A few of them had short conversations with whoever was sitting next to them, but there wasn’t a big group discussion or anything. Some of the women looked like they’d been crying, and others looked totally numb. I wondered which one I’d resemble the next day, or in a week, or two.
After we ate, Brynn asked if I wanted to walk outside for a while. The sun was bright, so we sat on the grass and soaked it up. It felt warm and I wished I was having a picnic with my family and friends. I knew as soon as I went back home, I’d be surrounded by them at Mom and Dad’s for the Fourth, so I tried to focus on that. I was thankful to have a sure thing to look forward to, since I didn’t know where Ethan and I stood.
“We’d better head in for study group,” Brynn said as she stood and brushed off the back of her shorts. I got up and followed her. The room we entered was full of book cases, desks with lamps and computers on them, huge bean bag-looking seats, pillows, blankets, and all sorts of comfy little spots to sit and read or write or study. There were six of us there to share the room, which would’ve seated four times that many. I sat at a desk and began my workbook, which was handed to me by a sweet older woman who greeted us all as we walked in.
“Gia, good to have you here. The workbook is self-explanatory, let me know if you have questions, and work at your own pace,” she’d told me.
I filled out a short questionnaire in the beginning of the book. It basically wanted to know what symptoms I had and if I’d ever seriously contemplated suicide. I answered them honestly and moved on. The next section talked about what to expect from the book. I was going to learn what lifestyle changes I’d need to make to help treat my depression. Things like exercise, nutrition, sleep, social support, and stress reduction. We worked for an hour and then took a fifteen minute break. Some of the women went outside to smoke. I went to the restroom and grabbed a bottle of water. I was feeling lonely and wished I could make a phone call or text. I knew this was going to be tough, facing things that I hadn’t had to until then, but I was determined to make the best of it.
After the break, I got back to work. I started to read about building my emotional skills so I could cope and bounce back after adversity, trauma, or loss. It said I needed to bring my life into balance so I could confidently deal with life’s problems and make myself more resilient to setbacks. All of this sounded great, but could I get there? That was the question.
After study group I had fitness, which was basically working out in the gym for an hour and fifteen minutes. Normally, I would’ve hated that, but it was a welcome sight at that moment. I worked out hard. Each time I worked a muscle, it seemed to make me breathe easier. I had a feeling I’d work out more in the next month than I had in the last year.
Next, were a couple of hours of personal time before dinner. I showered and rearranged some of the stuff in my room. I wanted it to be as cozy and personal as I could make it. I wished I had a couple of personal items from home. Maybe I could have Dana or Lill send me a few things. I’d need to remember to ask.
I put my ear buds in and pulled up the playlist Ethan had made for me. I skipped to the third song, since that was where I’d left off in the tub. As soon as it started my heart beat faster and a naughty smile spread across my face. I found the paper Ethan gave me.
Poison – Talk Dirty To Me. “You know why this song reminds me of you! What you may not know was how I felt while I pleasured you atop my desk that night. I wanted to kiss you softly, hold you in my arms, make love to you, all the things I’d dreamed of doing with you for so long. I knew what you wanted, though, and I wanted to be your fantasy. I had to show you that I could be the guy who saw you, and had to have you that very second, like you needed. I was nervous. I didn’t know if I could pull it off. But when I saw you standing there, watching the concert, it was easy. I was that guy. You were the sexiest, most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and I had to take you atop my desk. Shortly into it, it was no longer your fantasy I was fulfilling, but mine. The way you looked, smelled, and tasted pulled me in. I was like a moth to a flame.”
Oh my! I had to take a deep breath. Why didn’t I read this before I let some guy put his mouth on mine and tempt me to go to his hotel room? How could I have had exactly what I’d always wanted, and selfishly cast it aside like it meant nothing? How could I have hurt Ethan and pretend like it was no big deal? I don’t deserve him or his forgiveness and understanding. What is wrong with me?! I read the paragraph Ethan had written again and again. It turned me on, it warmed my heart, and it made me smile and cry. It gave me hope and doubt at the same time. I hoped Ethan still felt that way about me, but I doubted it.
I thought about Ethan all through dinner. I knew I’d screwed it up with him, but I also knew he deserved better than me or what I could give. He must’ve realized it, too. I’m surprised he didn’t tell me off before he hung up on me, because I had it coming.
After dinner, I had women’s group. It was an hour and a half of independent studies, and an hour and a half of group study and discussion. Alice was our counselor there. She gave me a study book and packet of other papers and information I’d need. My independent study was focusing on the female body. I was about to learn, in depth, about my body. Everything from menstruation, reproduction, post-partum and menopause, the whole cycle. I took interest. I’d never really had the opportunity to understand it all, so I was taking advantage of it. Plus, it was a distraction from thinking about Ethan, and I needed a break from that. I dove into it and before I knew it, the time was up.
“Okay, ladies, let’s huddle up,” Alice announced. It was time for group. We all made a big circle with our chairs.
“First off, I’d like you all to join me in welcoming Gia. She arrived today, and I’m sure she could use all the support we can give her.” I smiled and everyone greeted me.
“Gia, this is women’s group. We will meet here three nights a week. Each woman in this room has her own independent studies, as each of us are individuals with our own needs. In group, we discuss all sorts of different issues, some will pertain to you personally, and some will not. You may join in, or you may observe, the choice is yours.” I nodd
ed. I was nervous and didn’t think I’d be participating anytime soon.
“Denise, I heard you’d like to start tonight, so go ahead,” Alice said.
Denise looked to be about thirty years old. She was short and chubby, with a round face and short, dark hair. Her face was plain, and her teeth needed some work, but she had a warmth to her that made her seem genuine and sweet. Denise told a story about how she’d used food to feel better after her boyfriend had beaten the shit out of her because she was fat and he was embarrassed to be seen with her. Holy Shit! I gasped and tears flowed from my eyes, as they did from hers. Her story was heartbreaking. They’d gone to a Christmas party for his work. She’d searched all over for an outfit that she thought made her look appealing. She was excited to wear it in front of him, and got all made up for a fun night out. He made no comment when she entered the room feeling sexy and beautiful for the first time in months. At the party, he ignored her most of the night while she sat alone at a table for eight. When they got home later, she wanted to make him happy by having sex, any way he wanted. He laughed at her, told her he was disgusted by her, and beat her for the next hour, leaving two of her teeth knocked out. He left and she ate a quart of ice cream.
I was taken aback by her courage to tell that story. I felt for her so deeply. I couldn’t imagine being beaten by anyone, especially a man you were trying to be your best for. I realized at that moment that I would be affected, somehow, by each and every woman in that room. I also realized that I was lucky to be there, with those extraordinary, brave women, and that I was one of them. I felt like part of a team, and that was a good feeling.
We had a short evening review and daily wrap-up before we headed to our rooms for the night. I was exhausted. I felt physically and emotionally drained. I washed my face, put Ethan’s t-shirt on, climbed into bed, and fell asleep.
Six a.m. came too soon. I showered, made my bed, and got to the morning meeting by seven. We discussed setting goals and future plans. My homework was to come up with some short and long term goals to set for myself. Breakfast was veggie omelets and fresh fruit. It was delicious and I ate every bite. After breakfast was meditation, which I knew nothing about, but ended up loving. I felt very relaxed and focused as I headed to my individual therapy session with Laura.
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