“So, it sounds like the nightmares are becoming less frequent, is that right, Emma?” Dr. Oslo, Emma’s therapist, inquired.
“Yes, I guess that’s true. When I first came to see you, I was having vivid dreams every night. Now I only have them once a week or so. I guess that means I’m cured, right?” Emma smiled.
“Let’s not rush things. You know, Emma, most people never come close to experiencing the trauma you’ve endured,” Dr. Oslo began.
“True, but a lot of people have bad things happen to them,” Emma argued.
“Maybe you don’t understand the scope of what has happened to you, Emma. Your husband, Jacob, was a jewel thief who was having an affair with your neighbor, Veronica. He’d been running from the authorities for years before Liam caught him. Veronica’s husband, Xavier, the man who is obsessed with you, sits in prison for trying to abduct you. Then his mentally disturbed girlfriend, Morgan tried to kill you. Jacob died in a plane crash, leaving you alone and pregnant with no money to take care of your children. Then your parents died. A year in therapy isn’t going to make it all go away. It’s not like waving a magic wand.”
Dr. Oslo, a kind woman in her mid-sixties, peered at Emma over the rims of her square glasses. The list of horrible events was painful to revisit, but Dr. Oslo has always been very honest.
“I know. I get it; really, I do. But I told you from the beginning that therapy isn’t my thing.”
Emma was determined to avoid the business of dredging up her past. She shook her head and tried not to meet the doctor’s eyes, which was difficult since they were seated in overstuffed armchairs facing one another. It actually surprised Emma, even after coming twice a week for an entire year, that she’d had the courage to follow through with therapy. Confronting her feelings made her uncomfortable. She preferred to ignore them and hope they would go away.