embrace my past

It was a short bus ride to my destination, which was the office of one of the people who helped me in the past. Dr. Wilbert had been my therapist from the day I learned that Harry died.

He had guided me to the point that I had started to accept that Harry was gone, and I was still alive to move on. Although I would not say I fully recovered, his contribution did help me to live normally. Well, as normal as I was able to manage.

After a year, I had not seen the point of continuing with the session. I saw no progress in my mental state. I had decided to take matters into my own hands. Eventually, I moved out and tried to live my life and run away from my past.

Today was a different story. Maybe Dr. Wilbert could help me decipher this maze in my brain. He must have a way to unlock the mystery of my past with some of my latest discoveries. I believed that I would need his expertise and experience in analyzing my condition.

"Good afternoon, Scarlet. What brought you here today?" Dr. Wilbert asked as soon as I was inside his office.

"Hi, Doc," I greeted him as I settled on his couch. It was our routine. He would ask me a few questions and then wait for me to tell him the details of my answers.

He was always patient and kind. I guessed all doctors had to be that way. "It's been a long time," he said.

"Yes, I'm here because something happened these past few weeks." I started.

"Go on." He started scribbling on his pad as he waited for my next words. I never once saw what he wrote on his pads. Sometimes I wondered if it was just a trick for me to think that he was listening. Maybe he was drawing or playing during all this time while I talked incessantly.

Shifting in my seat, trying to get more comfortable, I began to recount all my dreams and memories that I recollected. Hoping that somehow, Dr. Wilbert would have some answers to it.

After I finished, he scanned his notes before putting them aside. "Our mind can easily play tricks on us, confusing us with make beliefs and realities. I can neither tell you if it was all real nor deny that it happened. Only you can distinguish that."

I sat down attentively, hoping his words would make sense in my mind. Unlike in our previous sessions, I was more receptive this time. I was not fighting his council. Instead, I wanted to hear what he had to say.

"Our mind, like our body, has its defense mechanism. It wants to protect itself against anything that can harm it. Your mind blocked all those unwanted memories for a reason. You are the only one who has the key to unlock it. Just as I once told you. You have to convince yourself that you are strong enough to handle whatever it was your mind was protecting you from." He continued.

"Could these memories mean that I am getting better?" I asked him, yet doubtful still.

Dr. Wilbert tapped his chin and thought of his next statement. "Maybe in this past month, you have managed to be stronger, more in control of your life. In a way, you have proven to yourself that you are managing well under your new condition. Maybe your decision to move out of your comfort zone and lived on your own helped."

"Yeah, I think I get what you're getting at," I interjected. I was making progress with myself. If what the doctor said was true, then my memories might come back sooner than I might think.

"Have you talked to your family about this or your old friends? Maybe they could clarify some of your visions if it occurred or not," he suggested. My only family who knew my past was my mom, while there was only one friend I could think of that could help with my situation.

"I wanted to talk to you first before I talked to Mom later," I said. "I also plan to visit Mia." Mia lived just a few hours away from here. Back where we used to live.

Mia, my bestfriend back then, before the accident happened. I wanted to see her. I missed her. The problem was she wanted nothing to do with me the last time we saw each other. She severed all ties between us.

We also talked about Harry. It was much easier this time. He was very proud of the development I made compared to the last time I was here. I had finally learned to accept his death.

"Try to continue what you love to do, like drawing and painting. Maybe it could help with the suppressed memories to unravel." He recommended as he started scribbling again on his notepad.

"I plan to, Doc," I happily said. He was thoroughly amazed at my difference. Just like before, he did not say what I wanted him to say, but he did tell me what I needed to hear.

Nobody could tell me what happened to me, except me. I hoped that this week would continue to be fruitful. So far, things were on the right track. I was slowly achieving some progress.

It was still early when I left the clinic. After a few hours of wandering around town, I found myself in a bus station, sitting on a bench, watching as passengers come and go, as buses left the station one at a time.

I considered my options. I could choose never to go back and just let all those memories go and hope that they would eventually stop to haunt me. Then again, I could finally opt to face it head-on. Uncover the whole truth and decide from there whatever would happen next.

If I rode the bus now, I would be there in the morning. I guessed I was choosing to embrace my past this time instead of running away from it again.