Patrick Roche
Couples therapy
every Thursday i go to couples therapy with my depression
he whispers in my ear to stay in bed for another day, presses his palm to my chest. afraid I'm going to escape the covers.
After i scrape myself out of the shower,
i still smell like him.
like midnight panic attacks,
like first name basis with the CVS pharmacist,
like "i'm not hungry, i already had a rice crispies treat today.
our sessions with our therapist are 50 minutes
we spend that time restating the same issues to her.
We've been on again, off again since high school.
this time its been a solid year, so that's gotta mean it's getting pretty serious.
She asks about my appetite.
No i haven't been eating, but
he likes me skinny
it makes it easier for him to be the big spoon
its like i disappear
like his body swallows mine.
she asks if I've done anything with my friends lately...
not in a while,
we usually stay in
my friends are the third wheel if we're out together.
that's what happens when you've been with someone for so long.
she asks if anything has changed since i started with Zoloft.
he digs his nails into the chair, grits his teeth.
she asks again
He gets... jealous, but Zoloft treats me nice, takes me to breakfast in the mornings
feeds me french toast
He got mad though... something like cheating on him
he threatened to take out the scissors so i threatened to see Zoloft even more
all of them
all at once.
i almost... did.
She asks if that was the night my friend took me to the healthcare center.
yeah... but it was just that one time, and
the nurse said
"no visitors"
took Zoloft away from me
so we got to spend some quality time as a couple again.
our therapist thinks we're only together because
my father called my mother a whore
or because i still sometimes wish i were straight
or because I've never had a "serious love life."
she doesn't understand that this is the most serious relationship I've ever had
She says "time's up, come back next week"
he mutters "fine" under my breath
slams the door on our way out.
our therapist says "there has been improvements over the past few weeks."
that he and i will probably always be together,
but i'll start to be more independent soon
lately I've been thinking more about that.
Mornings when i wake up hungry
my body remembers how to leave the mattress on its own
feel his arms shrink from my waist for a while so i can finish a poem
watch parks and rec
make a sandwich,
or the bed...
without crawling back into it.
even when he says that without him i would be an empty house
scraped clean and creaking
and caving in
Sometimes i still think he's right.
Last week i stepped onto the scale and i gained three pounds.
it's only three pounds,
but its all me.
it's all... me.