Can you see me?

Session No 3

‘Good morning Sarah, please come in, have a seat’

Mr Mavers requested in an officious yet friendly tone. He spoke softly and carefully, in a manner that was calming but skirting on patronising.

‘It’s lovely to see you again, you ARE looking well. How has everything been? I can see here in my notes that last time we spoke we discussed the Idea of your writing down your thoughts and feelings in a journal. And you were quite dismissive of the idea at first. Did you manage to write anything down?’

‘I’ve written some things. Stupid stories. Some ideas, dreams maybe. And things like that…’ Sarah trailed off in a worn surrendered tone. ‘I don’t know if that’s what you wanted or…’ 

‘None of this has anything to do with what I want, Sarah; this is about you and how we can work together to find better outcomes for you. Firstly, well done for doing that. Sometimes it can be hard to put into words how we’re feeling and to write down what we are actively thinking, but the more you do it, the easier you might find it, and you WILL start to feel the benefits, slowly at first’ Mr Mavers insisted.

‘I just said, I’m not writing down my thoughts and feelings, just some stupid little stories, you don’t seem to listen to me! And it isn't making me feel better, it's making things worse.’ 

‘Sarah, please don’t get frustrated. You’ve come so far, and this is just our 3rd session. Don’t undo all the hard work we’ve put in together; this isn’t a place of conflict; we are here to try to work through some of your problems; the key word there is work because it will be work for both of us. But you need to understand that everything we do in these sessions is for your benefit, and you need to work with me,’ Mr Mavers said, trying to diffuse Sarah's animosity as smoothly as possible. 

‘So far, every time I write something, it only makes things worse, so I stopped, OK!’

‘Could you send me some of the things you have written? I'd love to read them, and maybe we can discuss them in our next session. However, for now, I think it would be best if we move on 

Aware of Sarah's frustration, and her tendency to recoil and reject any suggestion of pressure or persuasion, Mr Mavers delicately maneuvered the conversation towards the more banal subjects of day-to-day life. There was a clear sense during their conversation that she did indeed believe that the ‘stupid little stories’ she had been writing had, in some way, permeated into her life and this has affected her greatly. 

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“Dear Sarah

I have read the short stories you’ve sent me. If you are able please call to book an appointment to discuss them further, I think I have a clearer picture of your psychiatric situation since reading your stories, and I have a few suggestions in the way of methods and directions I’d like to discuss with you that should be of some help to you.

Yours sincerely Mr Charles Mavers”

"Mr Mavers,

Did you read them? Then you should know that they are in no way directly related to me or my ‘psychiatric state’ they are just stupid little stories that I wrote because you said it would be helpful for me to write something down, and I chose to write short stories. They are not autobiographical nor are they some form of journal of my ‘thoughts’ I appreciate you taking the time to read them, however, and we can discuss how, as I have said, the stories have incited some form of curse on my life. Each one I write creates a new set of circumstances that follow me like a shadow.

Regards Sarah”

Session no 4

‘Please come in Sarah….Sit. Firstly, it would be remiss of me not to tell you how interesting I found your stories from a psychological viewpoint; they are like an open door into the workings of your innermost subconscious. Truly fascinating. And I can understand expressly why you have chosen to not continue writing them. But can I be so bold as to suggest that your stories are filled with themes of despair, isolation, and self-destruction? Each one seems to create a world where the characters are doomed to suffer. Could it be that by writing these stories, you're inadvertently creating your reality, in some sense, a self-fulfilling prophecy? Wherein you are in fact suffering, and if you are not you will subconsciously strive to suffer. You will put barriers in the way of your happiness, and any potential situation that could lead to you being truly happy?’

‘So what you’re saying is that everything that goes wrong in my life, is in some way my fault, that by projecting into the world a negative self-perception and a subconscious belief that the world is out to in some way harm me. I am, in fact, at fault for everything the world throws at me!?’

‘Well, not exactly…in so many words…’

Sarah got up, and without breaking eye contact with Mr Mavers, she backed slowly towards the door.

‘Miss, please don’t just walk out. You’ll be charged for a full session regardless, and I think we might be getting somewhere’, Mr Mavers pleaded.

‘You will see!’

Sarah hissed as she slid slowly out of the door and kicked it shut.

Session no 5

“Dear Sarah

I apologise if, during our last session, you found my tone or my directness a little harsh. I knew it might be a mistake to push you so hard at this early stage, but I felt that we may be slightly moving off track, and I wanted to try to pull you away from this ill-conceived idea that your writing was in some way cursing you. I truly believe that if you were to write down some of your innermost feelings with the same focus and flare you are able to put into your stories, it might help you see yourself in a more positive light. I have not charged you for our last session in the hopes that you will join me again next week so we can start afresh. 

Yours sincerely Mr Mavers”

"Dear Mr Mavers

I will be ready to restart our sessions next week, hopefully, we can both put last week's session behind us and move on with a fresh view of our shared vision for my ongoing treatment and health. Please see attached my latest short story, to show there are no hard feelings.

Thank you, Sarah.”

Mr. Mavers opened the attachment and began reading. It was a short comical story about a group of teenagers who had decided to take revenge on their headmaster for a series of unfair punishments he had bestowed on them. They had learned about the dangers of bleach on skin in their chemistry class and thought it would be funny to put it in the eye wash he used regularly for conjunctivitis he occasionally suffers from due to allergies. Instead of the harmless jape or mild irritation, the kids had intended, this had left the head teacher blind and unable to stay in his job. He went on to lose his house and his wife in a series of evermore tragic events. The story ended with him sitting on the sidewalk outside his house weeping as people walked past him, ignoring his plight.

‘Wow,’ Mr Mavers thought ‘, Sarah has a lot of pent-up anger towards authority figures and seemingly resentment towards men in general; perhaps this stems from previous relationships or her childhood?’ 

20 minutes before Sarah's allotted session time Mr Mavers printed the story so he and Sarah could discuss it further when she arrived. As he looked over the pages and started taking notes of poignant points he would like to raise, he noticed his vision slowly blurring around the periphery.

Sarah knocked

‘Come in, Sarah, ’ Mr Mavers yelled in a sharp alarmed tone. 

‘Good morning, am I early’ Sarah said in a meek and hesitant voice. 

‘No, no not at all’ Mr Mavers said, ‘Take a seat’ 

Mr Mavers was distracted, he looked Sarah up and down before rubbing his eyes in a quizzically animated fashion.

‘Everything ok?’ Sarah asked, smiling; she locked eyes with mr Mavers as she sat confidently on the leather seat.

‘Yes, yes, I just didn’t sleep well last night. Now let me tell you your last story was very entertaining, but I was disappointed to see that it once again led the characters down some unpleasant paths, and you seemed to be taking personal vengeance on your one character, the teacher, Mr er…’ Mr Mavers picked up the printed pages ‘Mr …? The head teacher character, remind me of his name?’

‘You have it printed right in front of you, Mr Mavers, ’ Sarah said, attempting to subtly mask her vitriol.

‘Of course…. Anyway, let us move on; what made you decide to write this particular story, and how did you feel writing it?’ Mr Mavers said distracted.

Sarah quietly got up from her chair and moved around the desk, slowly, until she stood next to Mr Mavers. She watched him carefully as his eyes continued to remain fixed on the seat that she had exited. She leaned in until her lips were inches from his ear.

‘I think you know’ she whispered 

Mr Mavers jumped from his chair

‘Do you SEE me now?’ Sarah laughed maniacally as she slumped back into her chair. 

Mr Mavers’ eyes were searching the room desperately. 

‘Actually Sarah I don't mean to alarm you but I'm h h having a bit of difficulty’  

He sputtered out with none of his usual confidence and assuredness.

Sarah spoke sorrowfully

‘Because I no longer see myself’

The end