Post by angela on Oct 29, 2012 2:20:38 GMT -5
Claudia closed her eyes and willed the tears to go away. She sat there in silence and tried to think of things that would cheer her up, even if it was just a little bit, and eventually let her mind rest. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue and swallowed. If she sat there long enough, she probably could have gone to sleep. Actually, she needed to sleep. She hadn't slept much in the past few days, and she knew that it would only continue to get worse if she let Silas invade her mind. So once her mind was more or less clear of the things that were bothering her, or at least as clear as it could be, she opened her eyes. Suddenly, she felt better. It helped that there was a gentle breeze blowing across the park, gently stinging the warmth of her cheeks, leftover from the embarrassment of having confessed that she had slept with someone.
The counselor was beginning to realize that she was at that point in her life where things started to make sense--or they were supposed to make since, but didn't for her. She was at the stage of her life where she started to break down and think of all the things she once had that she didn't anymore. Was it a midlife crisis? She thought that had happened six years ago when her husband was killed and she was pregnant. Or maybe it was the moment when she went into premature labor with her already developmentally delayed daughter. Or maybe it was the moment when she took all those pills in an attempt to kill herself, but threw them up because she heard her daughter crying. Or maybe it was this moment when she realized that she needed more than just her children for company. That she needed to be loved in more ways than a child could give. That she needed someone with strong arms to hold her at night, to make her feel safe. She had never had any fears until her husband died. And suddenly, it all seemed to come out of the dark and into the light. Other than losing her family, her biggest fear was being alone. And she was alone.
The woman started talking about how lost she felt, how she didn't really know what it meant to be Ellen Watson. Claudia looked down at her feet as she listened to the woman's words. She started to think about her situation. Could she even remember what it had been like to be Claudia Sánchez. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she had left that girl behind at age twenty-one when she and her husband had married. She never really knew who she was; she had always been someone else. She spent a lot of time making sure her mother was okay while her father was off fighting in Vietnam. And then when he returned, she had taken care of him--and she had watched him die. She was eighteen when he died and hadn't even graduated from high school. The thought made Claudia's heart break, and it also made her wonder how her mother was doing. She needed to call her, to talk to her. But she wasn't going to tell her about any of this stuff. She knew that it would disappoint her, and she would worry about Claudia's mental state. If she were being honest with anyone, including herself, she probably needed to seek psychiatric help. But Claudia was too stubborn for that and believed that she was okay... even though she knew she wasn't. She inhaled deeply and looked back across the park. The peeing dog was finally gone, and so was its owner.
"I don't even know if I was anyone before I married my husband," she admitted quietly. "I never really had a means of identifying myself. At home, I was my parents' daughter. At school, I was the girl who didn't talk a lot. And to myself... I wasn't anyone." She looked down at her hands and shook her head. She was beginning to realize that her life felt as though it had no point. Was there a reason for her existence? She had wanted to counsel students, and now she was sitting there losing what little sanity she had left. She was a horrible counselor, or at least that's what she was telling herself on the inside of her head. She just hoped that this news didn't get around the school because it could easily cost her her job. She swallowed. She really didn't want to lose her job. She liked it, despite how often she felt depressed as a result of her students' stories. "And then I got married, and everyone knew me as Nelson's wife. Or Anthony's mom. And now I'm just Mrs. Domínguez." She glanced up at the sky. It was so beautiful out. The sky was so blue. She wished she had brought her daughter with her. They could have had a picnic and it would have been fun. She closed her eyes momentarily.
"It's okay," she said quietly. She knew what it was like to keep things bottled up inside. She did it all the time. She took on other people's problems and never addressed her own. Since Nelson was dead and he had been the only one who made her talk, she had six years worth of stuff on her shoulders. She swallowed hard. When she opened her eyes, there were tears on the inside corners. She used her index fingers to wipe them away. No tears, she told herself. She couldn't cry.
When Ellen told her that there was no shame in it, the woman shook her head and looked down at her hands again. "It can be shameful," she stated, looking down at her hands. She decided not to go into detail about it because she really didn't want to recollect the reasons she had agreed to invite him home. She had no idea what she was thinking that night, but she was beginning to realize that it very well could have been a huge mistake. She shook her head gently. And then Ellen started talking about Silas and how if he made her happy, she should go for it. She finally turned her attention to the woman.
"I want him to be good for me," she told her, nodding. "I just... he's had so many come-and-go relationships that I don't know if I can trust him. And to be honest, I think that's what reeled me in." She nodded her head again, looking away from the woman. "And since he was there and readily available, I used that chance to remember what it felt like to have that warmth. He's... he's nothing like Nelson, but he's got some great things about him that I could... that I could really learn to love. And he seems sincere. Like... he really wants to change. He said that he likes my life and that he could get used to having a steady relationship and being around kids. And that made me happy." A smile crept onto her face even though she looked like she might cry. But she didn't. She maintained herself and nodded her head, thinking about things. "But I keep..." She thought for a moment. "I keep... effing things up." She had used Ellen's terms there and not her own. She was trying to think of a way to explain herself. "Like one minute I'm kissing him and the next I'm pushing him away. And one minute he's standing in my kitchen trying to get me to loosen up, and the next he's across the room pulling on his coat. And... I don't know why I keep doing these things. I just..." She gently punched her thigh with the fist of her right hand. She didn't know what to do. The poor woman, she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown--and she needed someone to help her before it got too far.
The counselor was beginning to realize that she was at that point in her life where things started to make sense--or they were supposed to make since, but didn't for her. She was at the stage of her life where she started to break down and think of all the things she once had that she didn't anymore. Was it a midlife crisis? She thought that had happened six years ago when her husband was killed and she was pregnant. Or maybe it was the moment when she went into premature labor with her already developmentally delayed daughter. Or maybe it was the moment when she took all those pills in an attempt to kill herself, but threw them up because she heard her daughter crying. Or maybe it was this moment when she realized that she needed more than just her children for company. That she needed to be loved in more ways than a child could give. That she needed someone with strong arms to hold her at night, to make her feel safe. She had never had any fears until her husband died. And suddenly, it all seemed to come out of the dark and into the light. Other than losing her family, her biggest fear was being alone. And she was alone.
The woman started talking about how lost she felt, how she didn't really know what it meant to be Ellen Watson. Claudia looked down at her feet as she listened to the woman's words. She started to think about her situation. Could she even remember what it had been like to be Claudia Sánchez. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she had left that girl behind at age twenty-one when she and her husband had married. She never really knew who she was; she had always been someone else. She spent a lot of time making sure her mother was okay while her father was off fighting in Vietnam. And then when he returned, she had taken care of him--and she had watched him die. She was eighteen when he died and hadn't even graduated from high school. The thought made Claudia's heart break, and it also made her wonder how her mother was doing. She needed to call her, to talk to her. But she wasn't going to tell her about any of this stuff. She knew that it would disappoint her, and she would worry about Claudia's mental state. If she were being honest with anyone, including herself, she probably needed to seek psychiatric help. But Claudia was too stubborn for that and believed that she was okay... even though she knew she wasn't. She inhaled deeply and looked back across the park. The peeing dog was finally gone, and so was its owner.
"I don't even know if I was anyone before I married my husband," she admitted quietly. "I never really had a means of identifying myself. At home, I was my parents' daughter. At school, I was the girl who didn't talk a lot. And to myself... I wasn't anyone." She looked down at her hands and shook her head. She was beginning to realize that her life felt as though it had no point. Was there a reason for her existence? She had wanted to counsel students, and now she was sitting there losing what little sanity she had left. She was a horrible counselor, or at least that's what she was telling herself on the inside of her head. She just hoped that this news didn't get around the school because it could easily cost her her job. She swallowed. She really didn't want to lose her job. She liked it, despite how often she felt depressed as a result of her students' stories. "And then I got married, and everyone knew me as Nelson's wife. Or Anthony's mom. And now I'm just Mrs. Domínguez." She glanced up at the sky. It was so beautiful out. The sky was so blue. She wished she had brought her daughter with her. They could have had a picnic and it would have been fun. She closed her eyes momentarily.
"It's okay," she said quietly. She knew what it was like to keep things bottled up inside. She did it all the time. She took on other people's problems and never addressed her own. Since Nelson was dead and he had been the only one who made her talk, she had six years worth of stuff on her shoulders. She swallowed hard. When she opened her eyes, there were tears on the inside corners. She used her index fingers to wipe them away. No tears, she told herself. She couldn't cry.
When Ellen told her that there was no shame in it, the woman shook her head and looked down at her hands again. "It can be shameful," she stated, looking down at her hands. She decided not to go into detail about it because she really didn't want to recollect the reasons she had agreed to invite him home. She had no idea what she was thinking that night, but she was beginning to realize that it very well could have been a huge mistake. She shook her head gently. And then Ellen started talking about Silas and how if he made her happy, she should go for it. She finally turned her attention to the woman.
"I want him to be good for me," she told her, nodding. "I just... he's had so many come-and-go relationships that I don't know if I can trust him. And to be honest, I think that's what reeled me in." She nodded her head again, looking away from the woman. "And since he was there and readily available, I used that chance to remember what it felt like to have that warmth. He's... he's nothing like Nelson, but he's got some great things about him that I could... that I could really learn to love. And he seems sincere. Like... he really wants to change. He said that he likes my life and that he could get used to having a steady relationship and being around kids. And that made me happy." A smile crept onto her face even though she looked like she might cry. But she didn't. She maintained herself and nodded her head, thinking about things. "But I keep..." She thought for a moment. "I keep... effing things up." She had used Ellen's terms there and not her own. She was trying to think of a way to explain herself. "Like one minute I'm kissing him and the next I'm pushing him away. And one minute he's standing in my kitchen trying to get me to loosen up, and the next he's across the room pulling on his coat. And... I don't know why I keep doing these things. I just..." She gently punched her thigh with the fist of her right hand. She didn't know what to do. The poor woman, she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown--and she needed someone to help her before it got too far.