Therapy 8 Pt. 2
Title: Therapy 8 pt. 2
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Some swearing.
Disclaimer: I don't own any rights in Skins or the characters, just having some fair use fun.
Summary: Multipart fic starting at the beginning of S. 3. It follows Naomi - diary entries and therapy sessions consisting of 100% dialogue (a bit of a challenge I gave myself - I hope the meaning is still conveyed).
[Therapist]: Was this your first time?
[Naomi]: To leave her?
[Therapist]: No, sex.
[Naomi]: With her?
[Therapist]: With anyone.
[Naomi]: … Yes.
[Therapist]: It’s normal to be scared, Naomi.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: …
[Naomi]: Then…then she just forgave me. Just like that. No questions. Just like that. She lets people treat her like shit.
[Therapist]: I think she lets people she cares about make mistakes.
[Naomi]: See, that’s just it. That’s the problem. She…she’s too nice. She’s too good. She’s…she’s a better person than I. So much better. And I can’t…I don’t…
[Therapist]: Why do you feel like you are such a bad person? Where does this opinion stem from?
[Naomi]: Isn’t it your job to figure that out?
[Therapist]: Why do you hate yourself so much?
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Why?
[Naomi]: I’m not a likable person. I’m not nice. I don’t care either. I don’t care.
[Therapist]: I think you do care…a lot.
[Naomi]: I don’t.
[Therapist]: Why?
[Naomi]: People just let you down, people hurt you, people are mean. At least I’m honest about it. At least…at least I don’t build up people’s expectations. Except for Emily…she just…she won’t stop. She’s obtuse and stubborn and…I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with her? Why? Why me?
[Therapist]: I can’t begin to guess the powers of the universe, Naomi. But I have lived long enough and experienced enough to believe that sometimes we simply have connections to people that we can’t control; it just is. We are drawn to certain people, sometimes kicking and screaming against our will.
[Naomi]: I hate it.
[Therapist]: Fighting it can often make it miserable.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: …
[Naomi]: She wants…she wants me to be brave so I can want her back.
[Therapist]: And?
[Naomi]: I want…
[Therapist]: …
[Naomi]: I want to be brave. But I’m not. I’m a fucking coward. I can’t...
[Therapist]: What is it you are afraid of?
[Naomi]: I don’t know.
[Therapist]: Hurting her?
[Naomi]: Yes.
[Therapist]: Being vulnerable, getting hurt?
[Naomi]: Maybe.
[Therapist]: Being gay?
[Naomi]: I don’t know.
[Therapist]: Needing someone?
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Someone needing you?
[Naomi]: Yes.
[Therapist]: Falling in love?
[Naomi]: Love is a myth.
[Therapist]: Is it?
[Naomi]: Yes. Love is just a heavy dose of oxytocin to trick us all into forming attachments and “caring” about each other so that we help each other raise offspring and don't kill each other. Like all drugs, it wears off eventually.
[Therapist]: Why is it that so many people believe in it?
[Naomi]: Why do so many people believe in God?
[Therapist]: I don’t know, why?
[Naomi]: Because it makes their miserable lives seem better than they really are.
[Therapist]: Is that such a bad thing?
[Naomi]: It’s deluded.
[Therapist]: One could argue that reality doesn’t exist beyond our own perceptions. In that case, we create our own reality. So, really, everything could be a delusion.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: If you are going to be deluded, why not be deluded in a way that makes you happier?
[Naomi]: So, you are suggesting I just let myself be a blissfully ignorant fool?
[Therapist]: No. Just let yourself have some faith in something you perhaps cannot touch. Just let yourself feel.
[Naomi]: I feel all the bloody time. That’s the problem.
[Therapist]: I thought you didn’t care?
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: I don’t think you let yourself really feel. I think you fight it, constantly.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Am I wrong?
[Naomi]: It doesn’t matter.
[Therapist]: Why?
[Naomi]: Because.
[Therapist]: What if you stopped fighting? What would happen?
[Naomi]: I don't know. I can’t.
[Therapist]: Because everything would fall apart? Because you’d lose control?
[Naomi]: I’d do stupid things. I did stupid things. I…
[Therapist]: Was it stupid?
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Was it, Naomi?
[Naomi]: I hurt her.
[Therapist]: Because you’re fighting again. Not because of what you did when you stopped fighting.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: …
[Naomi]: I can’t just stop. I can’t just turn it off. I don’t know how to stop.
[Therapist]: Do you know when you started doing this? This fighting all the time?
[Naomi]: Forever.
[Therapist]: When did your father leave?
[Naomi]: Oh God! I knew it. I knew you were going to go there. How fucking trite of you.
[Therapist]: It’s trite because it is often true.
[Naomi]: Whatever.
[Therapist]: When did he leave?
[Naomi]: He never left. He was never there. He was a fucking sperm donor. He filled my mum’s head with lies about love, fucked her, knocked her up, and then left. End of fairytale.
[Therapist]: So you never knew him?
[Naomi]: Seen pictures, heard stories. Don’t really care beyond that.
[Therapist]: Do you feel his absence created a void in your life?
[Naomi]: You don’t really miss what you don’t know.
[Therapist]: But sometimes you envy what other people have, what is the norm.
[Naomi]: Families are very diverse these days. And nothing in my life was ever “normal”.
[Therapist]: Why do you think you created this front you have?
[Naomi]: People are shit.
[Therapist]: That may be true, but not everyone survives childhood by creating a shield.
[Naomi]: Then they lack common sense.
[Therapist]: What was your childhood like?
[Naomi]: Blissful.
[Therapist]: What was it really like?
[Naomi]: I don’t know.
[Therapist]: Try for me.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: …
[Naomi]: I was really shy. They had to pin me down at infant school when my mum dropped me off because I cried so much and didn’t want to be left there.
[Therapist]: When did you stop doing that?
[Naomi]: When I realized I kind of liked my teachers better than my mum.
[Therapist]: And the other students?
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: How did you get on with your peers?
[Naomi]: If you haven’t noticed…my mum is a batty loon. Well, at five years old, you don’t have much say in how you’re dressed or how you look. And all I ever knew was weird shit. So that’s the only way I knew how to be.
[Therapist]: So you were teased?
[Naomi]: Mercilessly.
[Therapist]: I’m sorry. That must have been difficult.
[Naomi]: Kids are bastards.
[Therapist]: They can be.
[Naomi]: And I was too sensitive and reactive. I cried when they pushed. I gave them what they wanted, so they just kept upping the dose. Until I learned to play their game…or rather, not play their game.
[Therapist]: Until you learned to be hard, not feel, not care?
[Naomi]: Exactly.
[Therapist]: And that worked?
[Naomi]: Like a charm.
[Therapist]: Is it still working?
[Naomi]: I guess.
[Therapist]: Kids grow up. They stop teasing quite so much.
[Naomi]: You’re funny and clearly mistaken.
[Therapist]: The games become more sophisticated.
[Naomi]: But there are still games. And I don’t want to play.
[Therapist]: But you don’t realize you are already playing. Except you aren’t letting yourself play with all the pieces. That actually puts you at a disadvantage.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Maybe you need to learn a new strategy?
[Naomi]: Like what? How?
[Therapist]: Try opening up some. Start learning how to deal with your feelings rather than suppressing and fighting them.
[Naomi]: Oh, well if I’d known it was that simple… Wish you’d told me that day one, we could have saved each other a lot of time.
[Therapist]: I never said it would be easy.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Maybe open up in increments. Maybe only to certain people. Until you feel some degree of trust, safety. Then open up some more. Tell them about your fears, your thoughts, your dreams. Laugh, let yourself laugh.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: All you have to do is try. I’m sure you know how to put the shield back up quickly.
[Naomi]: …But I don’t know how to take it down.
[Therapist]: Listen to your heart.
[Naomi]: Oh my god…
[Therapist]: When you start to feel the desire to fight come upon you, and want to run or make a stinging retort…jmaybe you could ust pause for a moment, consider, try to feel.
[Naomi]: Right. Piece of cake.
[Therapist]: Try.
[Naomi]: Whatever you say.
[Therapist]: Everything is going to be okay, Naomi.
[Naomi]: You don't know that. You can't know that.
[Therapist]: I believe things will be okay. You will be okay. I believe in you.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Have a little faith. In yourself.
[Naomi]: ... Yeah...right.
********
I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t think I’m ready. I’ll probably just lie anyway. So why bother trying?
It’s all too much. It’s getting to be too much.
I want her.
Or my body wants her…
The oxytocin and endorphins want her.
It’ll wear-off. Eventually.
ETA: shit on a stick. I accidently posted a prior version of this. I have rewritten the last few lines of the Therapy session. Well fuck me. If you read this before this ETA, then the ending has changed slightly. Sorry.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Some swearing.
Disclaimer: I don't own any rights in Skins or the characters, just having some fair use fun.
Summary: Multipart fic starting at the beginning of S. 3. It follows Naomi - diary entries and therapy sessions consisting of 100% dialogue (a bit of a challenge I gave myself - I hope the meaning is still conveyed).
[Therapist]: Was this your first time?
[Naomi]: To leave her?
[Therapist]: No, sex.
[Naomi]: With her?
[Therapist]: With anyone.
[Naomi]: … Yes.
[Therapist]: It’s normal to be scared, Naomi.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: …
[Naomi]: Then…then she just forgave me. Just like that. No questions. Just like that. She lets people treat her like shit.
[Therapist]: I think she lets people she cares about make mistakes.
[Naomi]: See, that’s just it. That’s the problem. She…she’s too nice. She’s too good. She’s…she’s a better person than I. So much better. And I can’t…I don’t…
[Therapist]: Why do you feel like you are such a bad person? Where does this opinion stem from?
[Naomi]: Isn’t it your job to figure that out?
[Therapist]: Why do you hate yourself so much?
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Why?
[Naomi]: I’m not a likable person. I’m not nice. I don’t care either. I don’t care.
[Therapist]: I think you do care…a lot.
[Naomi]: I don’t.
[Therapist]: Why?
[Naomi]: People just let you down, people hurt you, people are mean. At least I’m honest about it. At least…at least I don’t build up people’s expectations. Except for Emily…she just…she won’t stop. She’s obtuse and stubborn and…I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with her? Why? Why me?
[Therapist]: I can’t begin to guess the powers of the universe, Naomi. But I have lived long enough and experienced enough to believe that sometimes we simply have connections to people that we can’t control; it just is. We are drawn to certain people, sometimes kicking and screaming against our will.
[Naomi]: I hate it.
[Therapist]: Fighting it can often make it miserable.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: …
[Naomi]: She wants…she wants me to be brave so I can want her back.
[Therapist]: And?
[Naomi]: I want…
[Therapist]: …
[Naomi]: I want to be brave. But I’m not. I’m a fucking coward. I can’t...
[Therapist]: What is it you are afraid of?
[Naomi]: I don’t know.
[Therapist]: Hurting her?
[Naomi]: Yes.
[Therapist]: Being vulnerable, getting hurt?
[Naomi]: Maybe.
[Therapist]: Being gay?
[Naomi]: I don’t know.
[Therapist]: Needing someone?
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Someone needing you?
[Naomi]: Yes.
[Therapist]: Falling in love?
[Naomi]: Love is a myth.
[Therapist]: Is it?
[Naomi]: Yes. Love is just a heavy dose of oxytocin to trick us all into forming attachments and “caring” about each other so that we help each other raise offspring and don't kill each other. Like all drugs, it wears off eventually.
[Therapist]: Why is it that so many people believe in it?
[Naomi]: Why do so many people believe in God?
[Therapist]: I don’t know, why?
[Naomi]: Because it makes their miserable lives seem better than they really are.
[Therapist]: Is that such a bad thing?
[Naomi]: It’s deluded.
[Therapist]: One could argue that reality doesn’t exist beyond our own perceptions. In that case, we create our own reality. So, really, everything could be a delusion.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: If you are going to be deluded, why not be deluded in a way that makes you happier?
[Naomi]: So, you are suggesting I just let myself be a blissfully ignorant fool?
[Therapist]: No. Just let yourself have some faith in something you perhaps cannot touch. Just let yourself feel.
[Naomi]: I feel all the bloody time. That’s the problem.
[Therapist]: I thought you didn’t care?
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: I don’t think you let yourself really feel. I think you fight it, constantly.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Am I wrong?
[Naomi]: It doesn’t matter.
[Therapist]: Why?
[Naomi]: Because.
[Therapist]: What if you stopped fighting? What would happen?
[Naomi]: I don't know. I can’t.
[Therapist]: Because everything would fall apart? Because you’d lose control?
[Naomi]: I’d do stupid things. I did stupid things. I…
[Therapist]: Was it stupid?
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Was it, Naomi?
[Naomi]: I hurt her.
[Therapist]: Because you’re fighting again. Not because of what you did when you stopped fighting.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: …
[Naomi]: I can’t just stop. I can’t just turn it off. I don’t know how to stop.
[Therapist]: Do you know when you started doing this? This fighting all the time?
[Naomi]: Forever.
[Therapist]: When did your father leave?
[Naomi]: Oh God! I knew it. I knew you were going to go there. How fucking trite of you.
[Therapist]: It’s trite because it is often true.
[Naomi]: Whatever.
[Therapist]: When did he leave?
[Naomi]: He never left. He was never there. He was a fucking sperm donor. He filled my mum’s head with lies about love, fucked her, knocked her up, and then left. End of fairytale.
[Therapist]: So you never knew him?
[Naomi]: Seen pictures, heard stories. Don’t really care beyond that.
[Therapist]: Do you feel his absence created a void in your life?
[Naomi]: You don’t really miss what you don’t know.
[Therapist]: But sometimes you envy what other people have, what is the norm.
[Naomi]: Families are very diverse these days. And nothing in my life was ever “normal”.
[Therapist]: Why do you think you created this front you have?
[Naomi]: People are shit.
[Therapist]: That may be true, but not everyone survives childhood by creating a shield.
[Naomi]: Then they lack common sense.
[Therapist]: What was your childhood like?
[Naomi]: Blissful.
[Therapist]: What was it really like?
[Naomi]: I don’t know.
[Therapist]: Try for me.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: …
[Naomi]: I was really shy. They had to pin me down at infant school when my mum dropped me off because I cried so much and didn’t want to be left there.
[Therapist]: When did you stop doing that?
[Naomi]: When I realized I kind of liked my teachers better than my mum.
[Therapist]: And the other students?
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: How did you get on with your peers?
[Naomi]: If you haven’t noticed…my mum is a batty loon. Well, at five years old, you don’t have much say in how you’re dressed or how you look. And all I ever knew was weird shit. So that’s the only way I knew how to be.
[Therapist]: So you were teased?
[Naomi]: Mercilessly.
[Therapist]: I’m sorry. That must have been difficult.
[Naomi]: Kids are bastards.
[Therapist]: They can be.
[Naomi]: And I was too sensitive and reactive. I cried when they pushed. I gave them what they wanted, so they just kept upping the dose. Until I learned to play their game…or rather, not play their game.
[Therapist]: Until you learned to be hard, not feel, not care?
[Naomi]: Exactly.
[Therapist]: And that worked?
[Naomi]: Like a charm.
[Therapist]: Is it still working?
[Naomi]: I guess.
[Therapist]: Kids grow up. They stop teasing quite so much.
[Naomi]: You’re funny and clearly mistaken.
[Therapist]: The games become more sophisticated.
[Naomi]: But there are still games. And I don’t want to play.
[Therapist]: But you don’t realize you are already playing. Except you aren’t letting yourself play with all the pieces. That actually puts you at a disadvantage.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Maybe you need to learn a new strategy?
[Naomi]: Like what? How?
[Therapist]: Try opening up some. Start learning how to deal with your feelings rather than suppressing and fighting them.
[Naomi]: Oh, well if I’d known it was that simple… Wish you’d told me that day one, we could have saved each other a lot of time.
[Therapist]: I never said it would be easy.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Maybe open up in increments. Maybe only to certain people. Until you feel some degree of trust, safety. Then open up some more. Tell them about your fears, your thoughts, your dreams. Laugh, let yourself laugh.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: All you have to do is try. I’m sure you know how to put the shield back up quickly.
[Naomi]: …But I don’t know how to take it down.
[Therapist]: Listen to your heart.
[Naomi]: Oh my god…
[Therapist]: When you start to feel the desire to fight come upon you, and want to run or make a stinging retort…jmaybe you could ust pause for a moment, consider, try to feel.
[Naomi]: Right. Piece of cake.
[Therapist]: Try.
[Naomi]: Whatever you say.
[Therapist]: Everything is going to be okay, Naomi.
[Naomi]: You don't know that. You can't know that.
[Therapist]: I believe things will be okay. You will be okay. I believe in you.
[Naomi]: …
[Therapist]: Have a little faith. In yourself.
[Naomi]: ... Yeah...right.
********
I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t think I’m ready. I’ll probably just lie anyway. So why bother trying?
It’s all too much. It’s getting to be too much.
I want her.
Or my body wants her…
The oxytocin and endorphins want her.
It’ll wear-off. Eventually.
ETA: shit on a stick. I accidently posted a prior version of this. I have rewritten the last few lines of the Therapy session. Well fuck me. If you read this before this ETA, then the ending has changed slightly. Sorry.