Post by Sweet Meat aka CC on Jul 19, 2006 10:16:31 GMT -5
Pacing back and forth in front of Dr. Whitford’s floor to ceiling window in her office while waiting on her, the only thing that continued to run through my mind was how would Chingy ever forgive me after what went down between us two days ago? I couldn’t believe that I had went there with him when, as usual, he was telling me the truth. Because of what I had done, I had not ate or slept and each time I tried to call or text him, he wouldn’t respond.
“Janeka. How…are you today?” Dr. Whitford smiled as she walked into her office. However, her smile quickly faded away. All she had to do was take one look at me to know that something was terribly wrong.
“I fucked up,” I whispered as tears spilled from my eyes as I glanced over at her.
“What’s happened since our first session?” she asked as she quickly walked over to her desk to pull her tape recorder out as well as her notepad. I could deal with her writing notes, but I DESPISED the fact of knowing that every single thing I said would be recorded during each one of my sessions. However, Dr. Whitford reassured me that no one besides her would ever hear what I’ve said or would be saying without my consent first because of confidentiality issues.
Anyway, during our first session, she found out that I had been placed into foster care for almost three years when I was four. My mother had abandoned me at the local library where we went weekly to check out some of our favorite books. I’d find out years later that she had a serious drug problem and felt like I’d be better off without her. However, when I found this out, I was 19 and happened to be walking down to the corner grocery store one sunny afternoon when I heard someone call my name. When I looked over in the direction of the female voice, all I saw was some washed-up-looking crack head. As I stood there trying to figure out how she knew me, she confessed that she was my mother and had been watching me grow up for over 10 years when she somehow found out that her former best friend had adopted me. Now while I should’ve slapped the rest of what teeth she had left out of her mouth for having me go through some terrible things after she decided to leave me, instead I stood there and cried as she came over to hug me, stank body odor, breath, and all. It took me a while to get over the shock but once Hannah explained everything to me along with momma who went into rehab with Hannah’s help, we ended up having a cool relationship although she passed away a year later when she went back on the streets and started using again. From what we were told, she was trying to break into someone’s house when the owner of the home shot and killed her. As for my father, I never knew him.
The last foster home I was in which was the 4th one, is where I had been continually molested by my foster mother’s cousin who came by almost daily to visit the family. The last time it happened to me, my foster mother’s oldest daughter who was 15 caught the cousin in the act with me. That’s when she and I were BOTH removed from the home after she came forth and said that the same thing had been happening to her by the same cousin for several years. I never heard from any of them again. But God was looking out for me because my godmother, Hannah that I hadn’t seen since I was two just happened to sign up to be a foster parent at social services when I was placed in her care and eventually adopted by her and her husband, Gabriel. During this time, Gabriel and I became really close and he was proud to tell everyone that he knew that I was known as “Daddy’s Girl”. Now we would have our disagreements especially during my teen years like any other close father-and-daughter relationship but other than that, we were inseparable. Well that was until he was going off to work one morning, as usual, and told me and Hannah that he’d be home for dinner at the regular time before kissing both of our cheeks as he made his way over to the door to leave. But that never happened because he died in a car accident on his way to work. I don’t know, but for whatever reason, I hated him for leaving me although it took me years later to realize that it wasn’t his or God’s fault for being taken away from me.
Then there were my not-so-great “so-called” relationships that I had with two guys. The first one started slapping me here or shoving me there within 2 months of us knowing and, of course, sleeping with each other. I had to force myself to walk away from him after a year though because I was too ashamed to let Hannah know that I was letting some nigga beat on me when I knew from what she told me that Gabriel had never raised a hand to her although they had their share of arguments during their marriage. The second guy I tried to have some sort of relationship with was so much of a weed-head that he’d rather stay blazed up than give me an ounce of attention. I knew that I’d be heading for nothing but trouble with him so that didn’t last long. But the man I seriously became involved with after the last one was like a dream come true. He was sweet, gentle, and always giving me compliments. Well I ate all of that up like a love-starved fool and once he knew he had me wrapped around his finger, my dream turned into a nightmare.
When Dr. Whitford had asked me how I reacted to each one of these situations, I asked her how was I supposed to react because I had taught myself to learn that shit happens. But the minute I started telling her about Chingy and how much I loved him and he loved me and how much I wanted to trust him, I began to cry just like I was doing now.
“I accused him of someone else two days ago after goin’ through his phone and findin’ a number,” I confessed as I sat down on the leather chaise sitting on the side of her desk.
“So did you two resolve things again like the other times you told me about in our last session?”
“No, he finally left me this time and won’t talk to me.” I proceeded to bury my face in my hands as I started sobbing heavily.
Dr. Whitford came over to sit down next to me and proceeded to gently rub my back while handing me a few Kleenex from her desk. “Well did you tell him that you’re coming to see me about the trust issues that you’re having with him?”
I slowly shook my head as I lifted it back up. “I’m ashamed to tell him that I’m comin’ to see a shrink. He already thinks I’m crazy as it is.”
“If he really thought that, Janeka, then why has he stayed with you all of this time?”
“Who knows?” I replied with a shrug of my shoulders as I stood back up to walk over to the window again. I gazed out at St. Louis’ skyline while trying to deal with the fact that I think I’ve lost him for good. “Maybe he’s betta off without me now. I mean if no one else in my life wanted me around for whatever reasons, then why would he?” I turned around to look at her while waiting for an answer. After we stared at each other for several seconds, she asked me had I told him about any of the things that had went on in my life. I took a deep sigh and turned back to the window. “Even if I WANTED to tell him about all the shit I’ve been through, what difference would it make?”
“It would make a GREAT difference, Janeka. Just like you want him to be truthful with you, you have to be truthful with him,” she nonchalantly stated. “What’s his number? I’d like for him to come with you to your next session so he can get a better understanding of your issues with him.” I whirled around in surprise and saw her walking over to the phone on her desk.
“Lady, are you crazy?! I came here to talk about my problems with you…NOT you AND him! Like I said if I wanted him to know I would’ve told his ass by now! Forget this damn session or anymore of ‘em.” I walked over to the chaise to grab my purse and marched over to the door. As soon as my hand was on the knob, Dr. Whitford spoke.
“Oh, I see…you have the right to know all about him, what he’s done, where he’s been, or what he’s been through, but you don’t love him enough to give him that right to know the same about you. I get it…do as I say, not as I do. Am I right?”
I stood motionless for a few seconds, before flinging the door open, stomping out, and slamming it so hard behind me that it shook some of the pictures and degrees hanging on the wall next to it.
“Janeka. How…are you today?” Dr. Whitford smiled as she walked into her office. However, her smile quickly faded away. All she had to do was take one look at me to know that something was terribly wrong.
“I fucked up,” I whispered as tears spilled from my eyes as I glanced over at her.
“What’s happened since our first session?” she asked as she quickly walked over to her desk to pull her tape recorder out as well as her notepad. I could deal with her writing notes, but I DESPISED the fact of knowing that every single thing I said would be recorded during each one of my sessions. However, Dr. Whitford reassured me that no one besides her would ever hear what I’ve said or would be saying without my consent first because of confidentiality issues.
Anyway, during our first session, she found out that I had been placed into foster care for almost three years when I was four. My mother had abandoned me at the local library where we went weekly to check out some of our favorite books. I’d find out years later that she had a serious drug problem and felt like I’d be better off without her. However, when I found this out, I was 19 and happened to be walking down to the corner grocery store one sunny afternoon when I heard someone call my name. When I looked over in the direction of the female voice, all I saw was some washed-up-looking crack head. As I stood there trying to figure out how she knew me, she confessed that she was my mother and had been watching me grow up for over 10 years when she somehow found out that her former best friend had adopted me. Now while I should’ve slapped the rest of what teeth she had left out of her mouth for having me go through some terrible things after she decided to leave me, instead I stood there and cried as she came over to hug me, stank body odor, breath, and all. It took me a while to get over the shock but once Hannah explained everything to me along with momma who went into rehab with Hannah’s help, we ended up having a cool relationship although she passed away a year later when she went back on the streets and started using again. From what we were told, she was trying to break into someone’s house when the owner of the home shot and killed her. As for my father, I never knew him.
The last foster home I was in which was the 4th one, is where I had been continually molested by my foster mother’s cousin who came by almost daily to visit the family. The last time it happened to me, my foster mother’s oldest daughter who was 15 caught the cousin in the act with me. That’s when she and I were BOTH removed from the home after she came forth and said that the same thing had been happening to her by the same cousin for several years. I never heard from any of them again. But God was looking out for me because my godmother, Hannah that I hadn’t seen since I was two just happened to sign up to be a foster parent at social services when I was placed in her care and eventually adopted by her and her husband, Gabriel. During this time, Gabriel and I became really close and he was proud to tell everyone that he knew that I was known as “Daddy’s Girl”. Now we would have our disagreements especially during my teen years like any other close father-and-daughter relationship but other than that, we were inseparable. Well that was until he was going off to work one morning, as usual, and told me and Hannah that he’d be home for dinner at the regular time before kissing both of our cheeks as he made his way over to the door to leave. But that never happened because he died in a car accident on his way to work. I don’t know, but for whatever reason, I hated him for leaving me although it took me years later to realize that it wasn’t his or God’s fault for being taken away from me.
Then there were my not-so-great “so-called” relationships that I had with two guys. The first one started slapping me here or shoving me there within 2 months of us knowing and, of course, sleeping with each other. I had to force myself to walk away from him after a year though because I was too ashamed to let Hannah know that I was letting some nigga beat on me when I knew from what she told me that Gabriel had never raised a hand to her although they had their share of arguments during their marriage. The second guy I tried to have some sort of relationship with was so much of a weed-head that he’d rather stay blazed up than give me an ounce of attention. I knew that I’d be heading for nothing but trouble with him so that didn’t last long. But the man I seriously became involved with after the last one was like a dream come true. He was sweet, gentle, and always giving me compliments. Well I ate all of that up like a love-starved fool and once he knew he had me wrapped around his finger, my dream turned into a nightmare.
When Dr. Whitford had asked me how I reacted to each one of these situations, I asked her how was I supposed to react because I had taught myself to learn that shit happens. But the minute I started telling her about Chingy and how much I loved him and he loved me and how much I wanted to trust him, I began to cry just like I was doing now.
“I accused him of someone else two days ago after goin’ through his phone and findin’ a number,” I confessed as I sat down on the leather chaise sitting on the side of her desk.
“So did you two resolve things again like the other times you told me about in our last session?”
“No, he finally left me this time and won’t talk to me.” I proceeded to bury my face in my hands as I started sobbing heavily.
Dr. Whitford came over to sit down next to me and proceeded to gently rub my back while handing me a few Kleenex from her desk. “Well did you tell him that you’re coming to see me about the trust issues that you’re having with him?”
I slowly shook my head as I lifted it back up. “I’m ashamed to tell him that I’m comin’ to see a shrink. He already thinks I’m crazy as it is.”
“If he really thought that, Janeka, then why has he stayed with you all of this time?”
“Who knows?” I replied with a shrug of my shoulders as I stood back up to walk over to the window again. I gazed out at St. Louis’ skyline while trying to deal with the fact that I think I’ve lost him for good. “Maybe he’s betta off without me now. I mean if no one else in my life wanted me around for whatever reasons, then why would he?” I turned around to look at her while waiting for an answer. After we stared at each other for several seconds, she asked me had I told him about any of the things that had went on in my life. I took a deep sigh and turned back to the window. “Even if I WANTED to tell him about all the shit I’ve been through, what difference would it make?”
“It would make a GREAT difference, Janeka. Just like you want him to be truthful with you, you have to be truthful with him,” she nonchalantly stated. “What’s his number? I’d like for him to come with you to your next session so he can get a better understanding of your issues with him.” I whirled around in surprise and saw her walking over to the phone on her desk.
“Lady, are you crazy?! I came here to talk about my problems with you…NOT you AND him! Like I said if I wanted him to know I would’ve told his ass by now! Forget this damn session or anymore of ‘em.” I walked over to the chaise to grab my purse and marched over to the door. As soon as my hand was on the knob, Dr. Whitford spoke.
“Oh, I see…you have the right to know all about him, what he’s done, where he’s been, or what he’s been through, but you don’t love him enough to give him that right to know the same about you. I get it…do as I say, not as I do. Am I right?”
I stood motionless for a few seconds, before flinging the door open, stomping out, and slamming it so hard behind me that it shook some of the pictures and degrees hanging on the wall next to it.
[glow=yellow,1,200]***Part 4 Comin' Soon***[/glow]
