Learning How to Swim
Drowning Sessions
“So Karolyn is home now?” my therapist asked me, smiling gently. I nodded. “And how is she adjusting?”
It’d been a week since she had been released from Beckham. She would have a bad day, and then a good day. I had gotten used to the pattern, and I could almost look past the bad days when I thought of the good. Steven was always visiting after school, though my parents were always out of the house with Kara (they wanted to take her to parks and relaxing places of that nature).
“She’s doing fine,” I told her, smoothing a wrinkle out of my jeans.
“And how is Steven doing? Are you two still friends?” I nodded. “That’s good. I’m sure he knows what it’s like for Kara and you.” I nodded again. “You do know about him, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” I told her, shaking my foot.
“It’s nice that you can look past that.” I didn’t see what the big deal was, but I nodded anyway. “I know his mother. She’s a very talented woman. But how have you been?”
We always came back to that question. How should I feel? Well, there was one thing I wanted to talk about: what does bipolar depression feel like?
She made a contemplative face. “I suppose it’s like a rollercoaster. She can’t see the top, but she can feel when she’s on the way down. As soon as she reaches the ground she’s already on her way back into the clouds. I suppose it could be a bit hard to deal with, maybe like she can’t breathe without fearing that it might be her last.”
“Like she’s drowning?” I whispered, remembering the conversation I’d had with Kara in Beckham. “And she forgot how to swim?”
“Hmm, I suppose that could be like that. She thinks someone has to save her, but she really just needs to remember how to swim. She wants someone to save her, but then she’ll just have to keep getting rescued every time. She needs to learn to save herself, not rely on others.”
“So we should sit back and watch her drown?” I asked, not liking the idea.
“Or just tell her to swim. She just needs to be reminded that she knows how to help herself.”
I scowled. “I think we’re done here.”
“Alright. I’ll see you next Thursday,” she said, nodding understandingly.
I got out of my chair quickly, darting out the door. I would not watch my sister drown and gasp for air.
One Hour Later
“So how was your session?” Steven asked me over the phone.
“Horrible. Hey, I think I might take up that offer you gave me a month ago,” I told him quietly.
“Which was that?”
“Can I head over?”
“Oh. Sure, yeah. That’s fine. When?” he asked. There was shuffling in the background again and a door slammed.
“Now. Right now.”
“Oh. I was about to do something, but sure. I’ll meet you out back and we can talk. How’s that?”
“Okay.” I hung up, grabbing my coat and heading out the front door.
Kara asked where I was going, so I told her I left something at school and I was going to take the city bus back. My mother didn’t buy it either, but she was too busy taking care of my sister.
If I was drowning, I would want someone to save me.
It’d been a week since she had been released from Beckham. She would have a bad day, and then a good day. I had gotten used to the pattern, and I could almost look past the bad days when I thought of the good. Steven was always visiting after school, though my parents were always out of the house with Kara (they wanted to take her to parks and relaxing places of that nature).
“She’s doing fine,” I told her, smoothing a wrinkle out of my jeans.
“And how is Steven doing? Are you two still friends?” I nodded. “That’s good. I’m sure he knows what it’s like for Kara and you.” I nodded again. “You do know about him, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” I told her, shaking my foot.
“It’s nice that you can look past that.” I didn’t see what the big deal was, but I nodded anyway. “I know his mother. She’s a very talented woman. But how have you been?”
We always came back to that question. How should I feel? Well, there was one thing I wanted to talk about: what does bipolar depression feel like?
She made a contemplative face. “I suppose it’s like a rollercoaster. She can’t see the top, but she can feel when she’s on the way down. As soon as she reaches the ground she’s already on her way back into the clouds. I suppose it could be a bit hard to deal with, maybe like she can’t breathe without fearing that it might be her last.”
“Like she’s drowning?” I whispered, remembering the conversation I’d had with Kara in Beckham. “And she forgot how to swim?”
“Hmm, I suppose that could be like that. She thinks someone has to save her, but she really just needs to remember how to swim. She wants someone to save her, but then she’ll just have to keep getting rescued every time. She needs to learn to save herself, not rely on others.”
“So we should sit back and watch her drown?” I asked, not liking the idea.
“Or just tell her to swim. She just needs to be reminded that she knows how to help herself.”
I scowled. “I think we’re done here.”
“Alright. I’ll see you next Thursday,” she said, nodding understandingly.
I got out of my chair quickly, darting out the door. I would not watch my sister drown and gasp for air.
One Hour Later
“So how was your session?” Steven asked me over the phone.
“Horrible. Hey, I think I might take up that offer you gave me a month ago,” I told him quietly.
“Which was that?”
“Can I head over?”
“Oh. Sure, yeah. That’s fine. When?” he asked. There was shuffling in the background again and a door slammed.
“Now. Right now.”
“Oh. I was about to do something, but sure. I’ll meet you out back and we can talk. How’s that?”
“Okay.” I hung up, grabbing my coat and heading out the front door.
Kara asked where I was going, so I told her I left something at school and I was going to take the city bus back. My mother didn’t buy it either, but she was too busy taking care of my sister.
If I was drowning, I would want someone to save me.