Page 1 of Losing the Rhythm

Chapter One

“Now that we have all the paperwork done and the introductions out of the way, how about you tell me why you’re here,” Dr. Dakota Arason asked as she sat in her chair about six feet away from me. She was an older lady, with grays in her blond hair. She didn’t wear much makeup and her jewelry was minimal. The first ten minutes of our session was her introduction and explanation of how our initial session was going to go. And all that other stuff to make me feel comfortable with her and asking questions.

So far, she had only been professional and kind during our appointment. I could see why Toby suggested her after he managed to break me down enough to promise to at least meet her once. Then of course, Bryan pulled strings to get me in here sooner rather than later. The two of them refused to give me time to change my mind. The whole decision felt like a hazy whirlwind in my mind, leaving me dizzy even as I sat across from the therapist. I swore it was only two days ago that I finally relented. And the two of them ran with my decision.

“Toby Braden. About five-ten, with hazel eyes, light brown hair with blond streaks, who loves playing guitar, singing, and soccer. And smiling. He really likes to smile. And being a goofball.”

I gave her credit, she gave nothing away.

“Is he someone you like?”

“He’s the one who referred you,” I said softly, glancing briefly out the window as I rubbed at my thigh. The trees were swaying from the bitter wind that came with the start of October and hadn’t given up in the past week. “He was determined. So here I am.”

“So you’re taking the first step. That’s good,” she said. “Have you seen a therapist before and how long ago was your last session?”

I licked my lips. “When I was in the hospital over the summer. I think my last session was end of August. Can you tell me more about your professional experiences?” Talk about you and less about me.

“Of course. As you’ve heard the spiel when you called to make an appointment, I’ve been in this industry for thirty-four years. I specialize in abuse and trauma, helping my patients through different levels of PTSD and anxiety. While I do deal with all types of therapies, I specialize in EMDR therapy and psychodynamic trauma therapy.”

“Who are your main client base?”

“Teens and young adults. We also have someone on site who helps children and families. Another specialist with the elderly.”

“What kind of abuse?”

“All types of abuse, though my client base tends to lean more toward physical and mental abuse.”

“No wonder he kept talking you up.”

“Toby is a bright child.”

“So you do know him.”

She smiled. “I never said I didn’t.”

“Uh huh.”

Dr. Arason crossed her legs and rested her hands on her lap, giving me her undivided attention. “How about you tell me why you’re here? You’ve made the big first step in making this appointment. The rest of the session is all yours. Tell me what you’re comfortable talking about, and from there, we can begin to help you.”

I chuckled a bit bitterly. “Recent events or my past. There’s a lot there to unpack apparently.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened recently, or do you want to talk about your past?”

This was feeling very therapist-y. Which wasn’t a surprise. It was her job. But it still irritated me. Like, couldn’t she just take the choice out of my hand and make me talk about whatever? I had no idea where to begin, how to begin.

Did I talk about the nightmares that kept me up?

About the daze I lived in these days?

Or about my mother?

My dad?

The guys?

Janice?

Having a gun held at my head?