I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell [I know right now you can't tell]
[Control]
sonata_adagio Jill used with permission
“Okay, Lucy-let’s talk about control today,” the therapist suggested calmly. She had found the best way to deal with Lucy was akin to the way one dealt with wild animals; a low, calm voice without much reaction or emotion it. Lucy fed off both and tended to get sidetracked and wound up.
Lucy, had she known, would have been quite offended at the wild animal implication. Unless of course the therapist compared her to a cuddly, cute wild animal; like a cheetah. Then she would have been all over the comparison. “Like impulse control or temper control or breathing and heart rate control? Maybe even emotional control?”
“Control in general,” the therapist said as she made some notes. Lucy craned her neck and bounced on the couch. She settled in and twirled a strand of her hair around her finger as she thought about the therapist’s words. After a moment she smiled and shook her head.
“I don’t have any.”
“Everyone has some control, Lucy. I’m certain people make you angry and yet you don’t deal with them as you’d likely wish.”
“You mean violently?” Lucy asked, head tilting to the side. “Nope. I guess you’re right. I won’t murder anyone for being stupid but that’s mostly because I look ghastly in orange. So does everyone else so I wouldn’t even have a hottie to be my bitch.”
That sort of left the therapist gaping for a moment before she made some quick notes and moved on. “Right…does this lack of control interfere in your life at all?”
Lucy thought about that a moment, eyebrows knitting and brow creasing as she rested her chin on her knees. Her face smoothed out and a smile quirked her lips. “Not really. I mean sure I end up with a lot of shoes and a lot clothes that I don’t need but Momma taught me that we just give those things to the homeless.”
“Are there any limits outside of murder that you put on your control?”
“Oh sure.” Lucy’s head bobbed with reassurance. “Even with the H factor, I totally don’t just grab any guy off the street. Sure I’ve screwed guys that I might not normally screw but I’m not totally lame. I keep condoms with me when I go patrol. And it’s not like they were gross. They just were just slightly lower on the pretty scale than I usually like. I shoot for high on the pretty scale normally.”
“…right.” The therapist was beginning to get a headache. She rubbed at her temples and glanced at the clock on the wall. They were only half way into the session. “Lucy, what I’m looking for is some sort of reassurance that you won’t injure someone without probable cause.”
“OH!” Lucy exclaimed, her eyes going wide and a laugh teasing at the corners of her lips. “No. Totally not. I mean sure, I’m pretty quick to use violence to solve my problems but if I hurt anyone it’ll be because they deserve it. This guy in line at Starbucks the other day TOTALLY stole my latte. I grabbed him by the wrist and squeezed until he gave it back. He even apologized and said it was a misunderstanding. He was totally not upset though. I got his number and we’re going to lunch later.”
That headache, in full force now. The therapist made a note on Lucy’s chart, got up and walked over to her desk. She got a bottle of Excedrin out and took two before moving back over to sit down on the chair across from Lucy. “I’m not-that’s not really acceptable, Lucy.”
“What? I can’t get numbers from cute guys in Starbucks anymore?” A pout was already forming on Lucy’s face and she was gearing up for a rant. “That’s so totally not fair. I have to spend my nights slaying vampires and saving the entire world I should totally get to do what I want in my off hours. It’s not like cute Starbuck boys are interfering with the slaying. I can totally juggle both AND still be uber slay girl.”
“That’s not what I was speaking of,” the therapist continued in a calm, collected voice but it was beginning to tatter at the edges. “It’s not acceptable to grab a person’s wrist like that. You could hurt them.”
“But I *didn’t*,” Lucy reminded the therapist. “I used control and isn’t that what this whole session is about? You think I’m dumb and blonde and you can confuse me. I’m not as dumb as that. I know what control is. I know what social acceptances are and I understand rules. So I like to break them and push them and avoid them and completely blow past them. I’m totally not going to turn into Bad!Slayer. Evil wouldn’t look good on me…okay, so you’re right, Evil would totally look hot on me but I’m not that sort of person so you don’t have to worry about me going all rogue and trying to take over the world. Besides, Rogue had it totally suck. She couldn’t touch ANYONE. That means NO sex. Talk about suicidal. Which I’m not and I don’t want to talk about it. I love my life and I love being me.”
About that time Jill poked her head in the door and the therapist wanted to hug her.
“I have mochas with double shots,” Jill told Lucy. She looked to the therapist for permission.
“Go. Please. We’ll continue next week.” And the therapist would make sure to have morphine on hand.
sonata_adagio Jill used with permission
“Okay, Lucy-let’s talk about control today,” the therapist suggested calmly. She had found the best way to deal with Lucy was akin to the way one dealt with wild animals; a low, calm voice without much reaction or emotion it. Lucy fed off both and tended to get sidetracked and wound up.
Lucy, had she known, would have been quite offended at the wild animal implication. Unless of course the therapist compared her to a cuddly, cute wild animal; like a cheetah. Then she would have been all over the comparison. “Like impulse control or temper control or breathing and heart rate control? Maybe even emotional control?”
“Control in general,” the therapist said as she made some notes. Lucy craned her neck and bounced on the couch. She settled in and twirled a strand of her hair around her finger as she thought about the therapist’s words. After a moment she smiled and shook her head.
“I don’t have any.”
“Everyone has some control, Lucy. I’m certain people make you angry and yet you don’t deal with them as you’d likely wish.”
“You mean violently?” Lucy asked, head tilting to the side. “Nope. I guess you’re right. I won’t murder anyone for being stupid but that’s mostly because I look ghastly in orange. So does everyone else so I wouldn’t even have a hottie to be my bitch.”
That sort of left the therapist gaping for a moment before she made some quick notes and moved on. “Right…does this lack of control interfere in your life at all?”
Lucy thought about that a moment, eyebrows knitting and brow creasing as she rested her chin on her knees. Her face smoothed out and a smile quirked her lips. “Not really. I mean sure I end up with a lot of shoes and a lot clothes that I don’t need but Momma taught me that we just give those things to the homeless.”
“Are there any limits outside of murder that you put on your control?”
“Oh sure.” Lucy’s head bobbed with reassurance. “Even with the H factor, I totally don’t just grab any guy off the street. Sure I’ve screwed guys that I might not normally screw but I’m not totally lame. I keep condoms with me when I go patrol. And it’s not like they were gross. They just were just slightly lower on the pretty scale than I usually like. I shoot for high on the pretty scale normally.”
“…right.” The therapist was beginning to get a headache. She rubbed at her temples and glanced at the clock on the wall. They were only half way into the session. “Lucy, what I’m looking for is some sort of reassurance that you won’t injure someone without probable cause.”
“OH!” Lucy exclaimed, her eyes going wide and a laugh teasing at the corners of her lips. “No. Totally not. I mean sure, I’m pretty quick to use violence to solve my problems but if I hurt anyone it’ll be because they deserve it. This guy in line at Starbucks the other day TOTALLY stole my latte. I grabbed him by the wrist and squeezed until he gave it back. He even apologized and said it was a misunderstanding. He was totally not upset though. I got his number and we’re going to lunch later.”
That headache, in full force now. The therapist made a note on Lucy’s chart, got up and walked over to her desk. She got a bottle of Excedrin out and took two before moving back over to sit down on the chair across from Lucy. “I’m not-that’s not really acceptable, Lucy.”
“What? I can’t get numbers from cute guys in Starbucks anymore?” A pout was already forming on Lucy’s face and she was gearing up for a rant. “That’s so totally not fair. I have to spend my nights slaying vampires and saving the entire world I should totally get to do what I want in my off hours. It’s not like cute Starbuck boys are interfering with the slaying. I can totally juggle both AND still be uber slay girl.”
“That’s not what I was speaking of,” the therapist continued in a calm, collected voice but it was beginning to tatter at the edges. “It’s not acceptable to grab a person’s wrist like that. You could hurt them.”
“But I *didn’t*,” Lucy reminded the therapist. “I used control and isn’t that what this whole session is about? You think I’m dumb and blonde and you can confuse me. I’m not as dumb as that. I know what control is. I know what social acceptances are and I understand rules. So I like to break them and push them and avoid them and completely blow past them. I’m totally not going to turn into Bad!Slayer. Evil wouldn’t look good on me…okay, so you’re right, Evil would totally look hot on me but I’m not that sort of person so you don’t have to worry about me going all rogue and trying to take over the world. Besides, Rogue had it totally suck. She couldn’t touch ANYONE. That means NO sex. Talk about suicidal. Which I’m not and I don’t want to talk about it. I love my life and I love being me.”
About that time Jill poked her head in the door and the therapist wanted to hug her.
“I have mochas with double shots,” Jill told Lucy. She looked to the therapist for permission.
“Go. Please. We’ll continue next week.” And the therapist would make sure to have morphine on hand.